Rolling is Exhausting!

Last Monday was so exciting! When I arrived at the daycare after work, his teachers could not stop gushing about how he had rolled over! YAY! I couldn't wait to get him home so that he could show mommy and daddy his new circus tricks (because you KNOW he's not going to do it for us first. I guess he figures we got our share of the excitement during birth. We must spread the love!) If I had only known the implications of this milestone then....

 Rolling over is quite exciting for Grey! And just to prove to us how much he loves it, he's taken to practicing his newfound talent as much as possible, including in the middle of the night. Now that rolling for Junior = no sleeping for mommy and daddy (apparently he thought we were getting too much sleep before?) it's not nearly as exciting to us as it initially was. Nighttime now consists of us being awoken at 11 pm, 1 am, 3 am, 4:30 am all hours of the night to the shrieks of a baby who's stuck on his tummy. Keep in mind this kid has hated tummy time since day 1. On the rare occassions we could actually get him to succumb to tummy torture time, he'd start off on his back, then sloooooowly turns on his side, hang out for a bit, then eventually flop over on his tummy. Then he'd lift his head and look around for about 30 seconds, get tired of holding his head up, faceplant and lick the blanket for a minute, then hysterics. Now I don't know if those are the same steps he takes when rolling in the middle of the night, but judging from the screaming baby monitor next to my ear, the outcome definitely appears to be the same. 

 Junior's rolling has presented some new challenges for us as well. Most notably, there's no leaving him unattended on his changing pad anymore. Not that we made a habit of that before, but when the motion sensor on his crib monitor was screaming that OMG THE BABY'S NOT MOVING!!!! (well, duh, he's not in the crib), it was pretty easy to take the two steps across the room, switch it off, and return to the changing table in 2 seconds flat. Now we have to take Junior with us to perform that 2 second task. And when you think about it, the fact that he's on his changing table in the first place should be a pretty good indication that he's not exactly suitable to take any kind of journey, even the 2 second kind. We've been lucky so far and haven't had any peeing across the carpet incidents (or, god forbid, the other kind of incidents), but it's making us much better at remembering to turn the stupid alarm off before taking him out of the crib. See? Mommy and Daddy are trainable too.

 Checking In!

Weeks Post Partum: 21 weeks
Total weight gain/loss: I'm finally back to my pre-pregnancy weight! Actually I was a pound under this morning. So now I just need someone to tell me the reason why, if my scale insists that I'm skinny again, are some of my clothes still arguing otherwise? 
Sleep: Riiiiiiiight. See above.  
Best moment this week: Greyden rolling over.
What I miss: Greyden not rolling over.
What I am looking forward to: Greyden figuring out how to roll the other direction, from his tummy back to his back.
Milestones: In addition to rolling, Junior also found his piggies. It makes for interesting diaper changes when you're trying to work around an infant that is hell-bent on chewing his toes.  

Solids = Fail

Well we gave it the old college try. The Saturday after Greyden's doctor told us it was time to start solids, we went out to "The Wawl-Mart" as the Texans say and stocked up on our supplies. Armed with new bowls, spoons, rice cereal, and a very, very washable vinyl tablecloth, we decided that we were as ready as we'd ever be. 

 Step 1: Inventory supplies. Decide that we're way too lazy to spread out the tablecloth. Put Junior in his Bumbo seat on the counter. The counter is washable, no?

Step 2: Begin first attempt at making rice cereal by following directions on box. Put 1 tablespoon rice cereal into the bowl. Add 3-4 tablespoons of breastmilk. Watch as rice cereal completely dissolves into the milk and disappears.

 Step 3: Stir rice soup cereal in hopes of making the cereal magically reappear. Stare blankly at the bowl and wonder how in the hell we messed that up.

 Step 4: Deviate from directions on box. Add another tablespoon of rice cereal in an attempt to make the contents of bowl look more like "cereal" and less like "milk." Again, watch rice cereal instantly disappear.

Step 5: Remove a now bored and pissed off Junior from Bumbo seat on counter and pass him to Daddy while Mommy attempts to perform miracles.

Step 6: Add another tablespoon of rice cereal to the bowl. Watch rice cereal disappear. Begin to add another tablespoon, stop and evaluate the insanity of doing the same thing yet again while expecting different results, say "screw it" and dump half the box into the bowl.

Step 7: Succumb to defeat and admit that the rice cereal won and Junior will ultimately be attempting to drink milk from a spoon.

Step 8: Place Junior back into Bumbo seat on counter.

Step 9: Attempt to balance milk on the end of the smallest and shallowest spoon on earth. Slowly move it toward Junior's mouth, proceed to dump it down the front of him.

Step 10: Refill spoon, again move it toward Junior's mouth, then dump it down the side of his face when he turns his head at the last second.

Step 11: Regret not using the tablecloth. 

Step 12: Realize that next time we're going to have to somehow make the tablecloth wearable for all parties involved.

Step 13: Refill spoon, sigh loudly when Junior clamps his lips closed and refuses to accept the spoon, and, for the second time, admit defeat.

Step 14: Remove a now seriously pissed off Junior from his Bumbo seat and give him a boob.

This past weekend we thought that giving him a spoon to play with might help him get used to it, since everything he touches goes into his mouth anyway. This picture could actually be a decent indicator of some underlying problems:

Wrong end, Tater.

He actually appeared to be catching on for a second, but I think it was just because the right end happened to be facing him at the right time. Then he quickly lost interest:

 

It's funny, he wanted nothing to do with solids when they were in the form of rice soup, but hand the kid a Girl Scout cookie and you'd better watch your fingers.

So we tried. I was told that I'll know if my baby isn't ready for solids yet by following his cues. I'm assuming that clamping your lips tightly shut and glaring like someone just stole your pacifier are just a couple of those cues. I'm sad to say that I think my role as the local Dairy Queen will be continuing for at least a few more weeks. Unless a Girl Scout with a serious quota to meet knocks on our door anytime soon.

It's Just a Matter of Time

As many of you know, Greyden is in daycare. Or "storage" as Kevin likes to call it. We looked into getting a nanny, but as I've said before our opinions on what a nanny should be are vastly different. Leah: Old, grandmotherly type with 10 children of her own. Kevin: 18-ish, hot, big boobs, preferrably Swedish, child experience not necessary if all previous criteria are met. So daycare was just easier than fighting about it.

We're actually pretty happy with our daycare. The teachers obviously love children and they have a camera system in the rooms so that I can spy on them check in on Greyden from time to time via my computer. In fact, the only problem with it so far is that it's a Christian daycare, which would normally be a check in the pros column. However when we enrolled, we didn't take into consideration the fact that Kevin and I don't exactly have filters. This became apparent last month when the daycare had its monthly fire drill. Since the babies in Greyden's classroom can't walk yet, they're put in cribs according to size and wheeled outside. Grey is still on the (*ahem*) lower end of the spectrum for size, so he gets put into the crib between the other two smallest babies. Which just happens to be a set of cute, little twin girls. Can you see where this is going? When I picked him up that afternoon, the teachers were laughing about how they hadn't though about how it would look until they were already outside and one of the dad's came by and told Greyden that he was one lucky little man. The following day the teachers were still laughing about it when Kevin picked him up. They told him the story, to which he responded "Dang, Bubba. You've managed to do something in 3 months that Daddy hasn't been able to accomplish in 30 years." Which is probably not the ideal response while standing inside of a Christian daycare. **insert big sigh here**  Luckily the teachers just laughed about it and as of today we haven't been kicked out yet.

On top of Daddy's little snafu, I am about 99% sure Greyden's teachers think that I'm a total fruitcake. There is a Daily Feeding Form that I'm supposed to fill out when I drop him off in the morning that tells them what time Greyden woke up and when he last ate to help them distinguish when his shrieks mean "I'M STARVING HERE PEOPLE" and when he just wants attention RIGHTTHISSECOND. Notice I said this is a form that I'm supposed to fill out. Those poor people have to call me at work at least twice a week to ask me what time he last ate.

Last month I had to endure the nightmare known as Valentine's Day. Of course I waited until the last possible second to go out and get Valentines cards for his class. Oh yes, I said VALENTINES CARDS for his CLASS. Because we all know how disappointed 4-6 month old children would be if they didn't get a Valentine from all of their classmates, right? Ugh. In protest of having to buy Valentines for infants, I waited and ended up doing them the night before. I wrote them all out, scooped them into an envelope and tossed them in his diaper bag. The next evening, I was going through his Valentines goody bag when I noticed that they had put a bunch of blank ones of his in his bag. Funny, I didn't remember sending the extras with him. Ho. Ly. Shit. I had sent the extra ones to school, and not the ones I filled out. His poor teachers had to fill them out for me. Of course there were also a couple of mothers helping out that day. I'm sure there was much talk about what a lazy piece of poo (this is a Christian daycare) Greyden's mom is. And just to top that day off, when I dropped him off that morning I committed a cardinal sin and forgot to take my shoes off before going in the room. It wasn't until I was standing in the hallway wondering why someone stole my shoes that I realized they were still on my feet. So that would explain the dirty looks I was getting from the mom that was there. I'm sure they all think that the new mom in class is quite a gem.

Want one more? When the baby starts daycare, the parents get a piece of poster board to make a photo collage poster for above the crib. The week before Greyden started daycare, we went to pick up the registration packet and forms. Me, being SuperMom (oh, this was so long ago....), requested his piece of poster board at that time so that I could make it over the weekend and have it all ready to send with him when he started on Monday. My kid was NOT going to be the only one in his class without a poster! Aaaaaaaand then they gave me another piece about 3 weeks later with apologies for forgetting to give me one. And I actually just got my 3rd piece last week, again with their apologies for forgetting. Of course I'm not one to admit that it's my fault that he doesn't have his poster yet, so I tell them that it's about damn time they gave it to me. My poor little boy has had to go almost 2 full months without a poster above his bed and I KNOW all the other kids are making fun of him! It's all your fault! Or not. True, I don't admit to them that my poster board collection is reproducing like rabbits on my dining room table. I just smile and thank them. Again.

Can you see why we're thinking that it's just a matter of time before they give us the boot? 

4 Months Old!

Greyden was 4 months old on Tuesday! You know what that means - it's shot time! My least favorite part of having a baby. I can't stand to see him get stuck with those 12 inch needles. Okay, fine. Maybe the needles aren't quite that big. But they're close. Even though I'm pretty sure it bothers me more than it bothers him. Yes, he shrieks for about 10 seconds after the initial stick, but after that he's fine. Mommy on the other hand continues to shriek.

Here's Greyden at the doctor's office, pre-shots. I was freaking out way too much to take any post-shot pictures. The guy in the scrubs is NOT the doctor, thank goodness.

Greyden is 12 pounds, 6 ounces and 24.5 inches. That means he's in the 10th percentile and 30th percentile respectively. Much better than the approximately 6th-ish percentiles that he was before. And he's gaining weight and growing at the right rate, so according to the doctor he's just a little peanut and there is no reason to worry. Not that I am worrying. Have you seen his father? There is no way this kid will be a runt.

One of the things that I was NOT expecting to hear at the appointment was that it was time for us to start solids. I had always heard that you were supposed to start them at 6 months. She was telling us rice cereal at 4 months, oatmeal at 5 months, and fruits, veggies, and meats at 6 months. I thought I had two more months before I even had to THINK about taking this step. Suddenly she's telling me to start now. I just about lost it. I wanted to yell "Not yet! I'm not ready!" But for fear of being labeled as one of "those moms" I held my tongue. I've since resigned myself to picking up some rice cereal and making a go of it this weekend. I figure there's a 50% chance that he's going to eat like his mommy, so my newly revised shopping list includes rice cereal, nursery water (whatever the hell that is), and a tarp.

In addition to it being Greyden's 4 month birthday, it was also my little sister's birthday. She's the one who is currently incubating her own Bob the Baby. And even though I'm told that her Bob stands for "Baby on Board," the former grocery store cashier in me can't help but think "Bottom Of Basket" every time I hear it. (If the bagger asked me how Bob was doing or if I'd heard from him, I knew that the customer had something on the bottom rack of the cart that they forgot to put on the conveyor. I have no idea why we couldn't just ask the customer if they had anything in the bottom of their cart.) Although come to think of it, Baby on Board doesn't seem to fit either. Every time I hear it, I think of a ginormous SUV barreling down the road with the little yellow sign in the back window. Kerry's not quite an SUV. She's more of a...........Prius. She doesn't quite have the girth to be an SUV yet. And yes, I did intend to say yet (insert evil laugh here).

OMG, take the picture already....

Are you laughing at my Grandpa Shag pants?

Another picture? I don't think so. Rar.