Boundaries

I guess Reid is getting to be that age where we have to decide what is overindulging him and what is not.

I've been struggling with night weaning in the past few days. You see, "they" tell me that Reid should be sleeping through the night right now and should not need to nurse. So I have tried to rock him to sleep instead of nursing. The result: I'm tired. Really, really tired. Today I came across this and it made me feel much better. Basically it says that if the baby is not responding to weaning, back off and try again later. Something that also made my shoulders unclench a little was the idea that sleeping through the night is a milestone like crawling or walking, and every child will reach it eventually in his or her own time. So "they" can suck it. I'm going to nurse my baby in the middle of the night and we're all going to be fine.

Still, though, I am surprised at how many times a day Reid cries and I have to decide whether I need to immediately relieve him of whatever it is that's causing his displeasure or not. I also have to figure out how to handle his outbursts. For example, if I lie him down on his back and he immediately cries, my general reaction is to sing and dance and wave toys around in his face until he forgets how much he does not want to be on his back. Same with his tummy. Actually, unless I'm sure it is a pretty serious "I am hungry/I need Mama/I'm in danger" cry, I try to talk him out of it before I go and pick him up. I do not want to have a whiny child who is constantly attached to me because he never got a chance to figure things out on his own. OK, I don't want to have a whiny child who never got a chance to figure things out on his own.

But then there are the times when we are having so much fun, and there is a little voice in the back of my head that says "one day this is going to backfire on you so bad. And you are going to wish you had put a stop to it." Like when my sweet, sweet boy grins, takes my face in his hands, and starts sucking on my chin and giggling. I end up covered in drool, but he is grinning at me and I am grinning at him, and my face is clean, and I make sure that I use facial products that are not going to cause him harm. So what's the problem?

I could go to the church Christmas cookie exchange without realizing that I have a giant hickey on my jaw.

That's the problem.

Reincarnate

When someone suddenly leaves your life, and a new person suddenly enters it, I think it may be normal to see traits in the new person that the departed left behind. Maybe it is a way of cushioning the blow of the loss. Maybe it's wishful thinking. Maybe it's my imagination. Maybe I'm crazy.


When Reid is stuck somewhere he doesn't want to be (like his carseat), he lets out what I call his "Boy Are You Mad!" cry. Which, to me, sounds exactly like my dear, sassy, pissed-off cat Maggie (1999-2009) when she would accidentally get locked out of the house or in our roll-top desk.

I put the Boo in Peek-a-Boo

Today Reid was in his Bumbo chair with the tray attached. I hid behind the ottoman, and when I reappeared, the poor child jumped so high that the tray actually flew off the chair.

One Month Ago Today

Okay, it wasn't precisely a month ago today, but it was close. That was the last time I posted. I have been trying to think of things to say but I'm just not feeling like a very funny storyteller these days. Not because funny stuff hasn't been going on. But because I'm thinking my audience only wants to hear so many blow-out posts (up to his armpits and down to his feet the other day, by the way. It was something, I tell ya). And also because I'm living the fun instead of writing about it.

So here's a quick recap of the last month.

- Reid has been playing a lot in his exersaucer. This has given me more time to do things around the house. Lately I have chosen to bake cookies. Now I need an exersaucer.

- Reid's been sitting up on his own. He still has his wibbly-wobbly moments, but for the most part he's pretty stable. This means he spits up on his feet a lot. True story.

- We've started solid food. Night one, he didn't know what to make of the stuff. Night two, he was cautiously optimistic. Night three, he was grabbing my hand to get the spoon to his mouth faster. So far it's just rice cereal. Sunday will be either sweet potato or peas, not sure which. I actually tasted the rice cereal tonight. If he's grabbing for more rice cereal, which tastes like stale butt in case you're wondering, I do not know what's going to happen when he has delicious vegetables.

- Reid just took a nap on his tummy and I neither had a heart attack nor flipped him over.

- Saying "woo-woo!" will make him laugh so hard he gets the hiccups. So will throwing his pants over his head during a diaper change.

...I guess that's about it. To my loyal reader, I will try to be better about posting more in the future.

One Year Ago Today

It was a year ago today that one Reid P. G. died and one Reid P. G.'s impending arrival was announced.

It has been a hard year and a sad year and a wonderful year and an incredible year and a horrible year and an amazing year.

I miss my Grandfather every single day. But I'm better. Better than I was. :)

Unsolicited Advice, Part II

If a baby poops in a diaper and no one is there to hear it, the diaper still needs to be changed.

Never, ever feel smug because your partner gets peed on during diaper changes and you don't.

When you are changing your little angel and you hear the unmistakable sound of pee hitting the hardwood floor...that was not the dog.

Check your shirt.

And your jeans.

Keep a towel near the changing area from now on.

And don't forget to laugh.

Rollin' Rollin' Rollin'

Yesterday I went out for a run and came back to the news that Reid had rolled from back to tummy! I knew that stupid old friend of mine (about whom I apparently wax poetic when I am on an endorphin high - what was WITH that last post?!) would do something like this - monopolize my time so that I'd miss a huge milestone.

But anyway, Reid recreated the moment for me, and it was really super cute. He cried once he landed on his tummy, I expect because either he was stuck, or because that Crazy Lady started hollering and squealing and gushing about how proud she was of her Big, Strong Guy.

He didn't do it how I expected he would, either. I thought he would arch his back and flip, like my niece did and like all the "baby rolls over" illustrations show it in the baby books. Instead, he pulled his knees up in the air and rolled to one side - baby's got that Pilates knee drop move down way better than I do - and then just rolled the rest of the way.

Apparently this new workout tired him out, because he went down to sleep without a peep last night, only woke up twice, and is now on HOUR THREE of a nap. This has been a challenging couple of weeks, sleep-wise, so this change in routine is both odd and welcome.

As for me, I've been sitting here on the couch doing absolutely nothing productive for the past three hours. And you know what I should have been doing? Absolutely nothing productive. You know why? Because it's okay to just sit. Look at me, I'm growing up too.