Monkey (or the baby formerly known as Peanut): 5 & 6 months

MonkeyBoy (as Grandpa calls him) turned 5 months in July but as you know, I've been distracted by the situation with my brother, so I'm late. So late in fact, that he turned 6 months yesterday so I seem to have missed out on the 5-month update. For posterity's sake, here's things that have happened in the last couple of months.

Big news: He learned to sit up! All by himself! The first week of August we were at my dad's and I had just finished feeding Monkey and had him on a pillow on my lap. Like I always do when he's done eating, I sat him up on my lap - normally he leans back against me, but this time he leaned forward and sort of sat there. I thought maybe the pillow was making it easy for him, so I plopped him on the floor and poof! There he was, sitting all by his lonesome. Luckily, I told Mr. Fantastic what I was doing first and so we captured it all on video. It was terribly exciting and exceedingly adorable.

He's getting better at sitting for longer periods - but sometimes he will get distracted and reach for something or just forget what he's doing and tip over, but we're working on it. Practice involves the use of many, many pillows as our hardwoods are not forgiving to tender little baby heads. Monkey is also thiiiis close to crawling, I think. He's doing this sort of army-crawl thing - only backwards - and when he sleeps, he sticks his butt in the air, which I've heard is a sign crawling is nigh. We've also started him using a sippy cup, trying to get him used to water and a new method of drinking. He took to it right away, although he makes a yuck face when he realizes it's just water in there. He's even drank from a straw which surprised me that he figured that one out on the first try.

Monkey has definitely found his voice and spends much of his time babbling away and also making "pbbbbbt" raspberry noises with requisite spit bubbles. LOTS of spit. Also there's this happy little "arooo" noise he does that comes with a super cute face. He continues to be the drooliest kid on the planet, despite the fact that I don't think any more teeth are coming for a while. He has his two front bottom teeth and they say the top two are next but so far they don't look like they're coming anytime soon. He chews on his hands a lot and has now discovered his feet in earnest. It's really hard to change a diaper when he's got his foot in his mouth. Babies are bendy! Plus, if it's not his foot or hand in his mouth, it's whatever is within grabbing distance. They say babies use their mouths to explore the world, and boy does this one! He still won't take a binky with any regularity though - there was a brief week or two when he started taking one so we rushed out and bought some more, but he's back to not liking them. And he does a thing where he doesn't so much suck his thumb as chew on it, with it stuck way back where his molars will be.

"Arooo!"

We also have just started him on solids. My cousin Heidi and I did a day of baby food-making for our boys - steaming & pureeing a bunch of fruits and veggies and then freezing in ice cube trays. So far the jury is still out for the most part. We have tried peaches, pears, banana, avocado, sweet potato and rice cereal. Mostly everything gets spit back out although he does seem partial to the pears and might actually be swallowing some of that. Until he's 1, solids are mostly for fun and learning new textures and tastes, not for nutrition. Which is a good thing because some of the yuck faces he made while eating were hysterical. We did a video of the first time and at one point, he gave me this big smile, so of course I stuck some food in there and the speed at which he went from smiley to yuck face is hilarious. He looked so betrayed. Evil, evil Mommy, where is the boobie juice?

So, it turns out Monkey is a boob snob. We thought it might be a good idea to try and introduce some formula in case I'm unable to pump enough boobie juice for times when I have to be away. Unfortunately, in a disastrous trial by fire, Mr. Fantastic learned that formula is NO GO. He wound up having to drive home from his mom's with a hungry, crying baby so I could feed him. He called me from the car and put me on speaker phone so I could talk to Peanut, which would calm him down momentarily until he figured out that I was not actually present and the yumyums were not forthcoming. Poor Mr. F. That was a rough one for him. We are going to try some other formula brands and maybe work on getting him to take a little each day so he'll get used to it. The majority of the time he'll still have breastmilk, but we'd like to have the option just in case.

We had his 6-month checkup and shots yesterday, including flu shots for all three of us. As always, he cried for a minute or two and Mommy cried for ten. The doctor (Dr. Sarah this time) said he looks great - good strength and control, and she commented on how resourceful he is when she put the eye/ear scope thingy down on the exam table and he wanted it but couldn't reach it. So after a few tries of reaching for it, instead he started pulling the paper table cover towards himself until the scopey thing was close enough to grab. Smart boy!

This month he weighs 17 lbs, 5.5 oz and is 27 3/8" long, putting him in the 50th percentile for weight and 80th for height. Funny, I keep thinking he's gotten quite thick - in fact, I've taken to calling him Chunky Monkey - but people still comment on how skinny he is! Also, we get asked a lot if he's a boy or girl (despite the fact that he wears a lot of blue and baseball hats). This is because although I call him the Cutest Baby in the World, a more accurate word is pretty. He has ridiculously long eyelashes and big blue eyes and this little tuft of blond hair that sticks up in the middle of his head.

Aside from being beautiful and intelligent, Peanut is still the happiest baby I've ever met. He is so content, so happy to just sit and play or be held. He hardly ever cries except when he's hungry. He takes to strangers easily - so far has no fear of being held by someone he just met. He smiles and laughs all the time, especially when he sees Mommy or Daddy. I cannot tell you how much joy it brings us when he just lights up at us. I hope he has some idea just how much we love him and how much our lives have been enriched with his presence. I think having a child my own has finally given me an understanding of just how much my parents loved me.

So, all is well in Peanut Land and I will hopefully be back on track for next month's update. Stay tuned for such newsworthy evens as Peanut tries Peas! and Bathtime for Monkey: Is it time for the big tub yet?

Brother update

So, as I previously mentioned, I'm long overdue for a 5-month Peanut post, but things have been a little crazy these last two weeks. My brother was back in the hospital for a week - we just brought him home on Monday afternoon and had to bring him back in yesterday.

Steve called me the morning of Tuesday the 4th because he was having what he thought was a stroke. His right arm and hand had stopped working and he couldn't feel them and he was having trouble speaking and finding words. We had a very disjointed conversation because we were both panicked and he was unable to tell me what was wrong. Through a combo of me playing twenty questions and him telling me as much as he could, we determined that he wasn't bleeding and could breathe but couldn't use his hand, didn't want an ambulance but wanted us to come get him and take him to the ER. I have never heard him sound so scared and that in turn scared me. I hung up with him long enough to get Mr. Fantastic and we loaded Peanut up and raced over.

I called Steve back as soon as we were on the road because I was imagining him sitting all alone in his car, not being able to do anything and being scared and so I wanted him to know I was there, that we were coming as fast as we could. Since he still was having trouble talking, I just told him where we were and played more twenty questions. It was weird, he could understand me and knew what he wanted to say but certain words just wouldn't come out. Like I asked him what floor of the parking garage he was on and he couldn't tell me. He could say, "I'm on..." but couldn't get out the word "three" even though he was staring at the big number 3 on the wall.

We got him to the ER and there was more twenty questions as he and I tried to explain what had happened and tell them about his medical history. They took him off pretty quickly for an MRI, and when he got back we had another scare. They wheeled him back into the little curtained area where he'd been and I'd been waiting. As the nurse was fiddling with the various monitors and tubes and things, I was asking Steve how it went and he started having a twitch on his right cheek. Then he started sticking his tongue out and I asked him why he was doing that and suddenly he started having a full-body seizure. It was awful to watch and to just have to call for help and not be able to do anything. It didn't last long and they quickly gave him some anti-seizure meds.

That was the only seizure he had, but his right hand was still not working. He spent a few days in the ICU, then got moved to a regular room where he had visits with physical therapy and occupational therapy. He had several scans and basically the brain doc said it was a metastatic brain lesion that burst and the bleeding into the brain causes swelling and pressure, which in turn causes the stroke-like symptoms. Apparently, given time, if the bleeding can be stopped the brain will reabsorb the fluid and that should relieve the symptoms. They keep assuring us that use of his hand will come back eventually if the swelling and pressure go away.

I was not comfortable with this "wait and see" approach, but we're told it's better to give the brain a chance to heal itself as opposed to going in surgically to drain it with a shunt or something. So they ended up sending him home on Monday with medication for seizure and blood pressure and appointments for more OT and scans. Through it all, Steve was basically feeling fine - no headache or pain of any kind and all the doctors were amazed at how well he presented despite what was going on in his head.

He was home all week and basically doing ok. We did some grocery shopping for him but he has been mostly self-sufficient even with the right hand still not working. He can move it and grip loosely, like to hold a highlighter, but not squeeze tight enough to open a factory-sealed jar. The OT told him to keep using it for everything he could, even if it means taking longer and making more of a mess than with the left.

We thought things were going well since he's been feeling and doing fine, and then yesterday he was on the phone with a friend and started having trouble finding words again. They hung up and he called me. I know how much he hates being in the hospital but I told him I thought we had to go back to the ER, since it was Saturday and I didn't think there was any alternative.

They admitted him to the ICU again and kept him there overnight last night. They did another scan and there's some discussion on whether it's bleeding in a new area or more bleeding from the same area or what. They are moving him back up to a regular room again today and the brain doc will by to see him tomorrow and make some decisions. I'm still uncomfortable with the waiting-and-seeing but I'm trying to keep in mind that it's supposed to be better for him in the long run.

They have him on steroids this time, which is supposed to help the swelling and I think it may be having some effect. He says it feels like his right hand is working a little better - not major improvement but enough to make him hopeful. So, we'll know more tomorrow but they've said he could possibly even go home again as early as tomorrow.

This whole thing has been incredibly scary - I thought more than once, "Is this it? Is this when we lose him?" I try not to have the mindset that we're going to lose him to this cancer but sometimes it's so hard to push that fear back. For all that it was terrifying, he seems to be just fine now (with the exception of his right hand, of course.) I don't know what to make of it. I mean, a bleed in your brain can't be good but nobody seems to be in a big rush to do anything. Is it because it's a lost cause and they just aren't saying it? Or is it really as simple as they say? It's his brain. But sometimes these things can be deceptive.

So, I'm trying to keep my spirits up (and his) and would dearly love your good thoughts, wishes and karma to help him.

So, this is new.

Long overdue 5 month Peanut post coming soon.

Pants! (in the good way)

I have, right now, comfortably on my person, a brand-spanking-new pair of jeans...in a size 10. Please join me in celebration!

This means it is entirely possible that in my adult lifetime, my pants size might actually become one digit. It boggles the mind.

Health care reform is a joke. Here's proof!

My dad sent me this email today:

The American Medical Association has weighed in on the new health care plan being developed by the Obama Team.

The Allergists voted to scratch it, but the Dermatologists advised not to make any rash moves.

The Gastroenterologists had sort of a gut feeling about it, but the Neurologists thought the Administration had a lot of nerve.

The Obstetricians felt they were all laboring under a misconception.

Ophthalmologists considered the idea shortsighted.

Pathologists yelled, "Over my dead body!" while the Pediatricians said, 'Oh, Grow up!'

The Psychiatrists thought the whole idea was madness, while the Radiologists could see right through it.

Surgeons decided to wash their hands of the whole thing.

The Internists thought it was a bitter pill to swallow, and the Plastic Surgeons said, "This puts a whole new face on the matter."

The Podiatrists thought it was a step forward, but the Urologists were pissed off at the whole idea.

The Anesthesiologists thought the idea was a gas, and the Cardiologists didn't have the heart to say no.

In the end, the Proctologists won out, leaving the entire decision up to the assholes in Washington.

Is there a word that means "bigger than a poosplosion?"

OH. EM. GEE.

I'm writing this naked because my clothes are covered in baby poo. If you don't want to know more than that, stop reading now.

As the parent of a nearly five month old child (!!), I am no stranger to the various bodily fluids that come with the territory. I have, at times in the last five months, had various parts of my body covered in drool, spit up, pee, poo and breast milk. Sometimes all at once. We have had our share of barfs and poosplosions and diaper blowouts that require changing baby's clothes, maybe a ghetto bath with a washcloth, sometimes even requiring an actual bath if it's 'splosion-y enough.

Look, the point is, I am not afraid of a little poo or what-have-you. I have determined that once you become a parent, your acceptable level of tolerance for having any or all of the baby-associated bodily fluids on your clothes or person increases greatly. Look at all the parents walking around covered in spit up. You become resistant to the disgustingness of things. Either that or you're so sleep deprived that you just don't notice.

Despite my increased tolerance for baby poo (hee! it's funny when baby poops on daddy's hand!), today's poosplosion and subsequent blowout was masterfully horrifying. I got done feeding my little Monkey and was holding him sweetly on my lap, still sitting on the boppy, as I talked on the phone with my dad.

It started innocently enough. There were the usual poo noises he makes after a feed and I thought nothing of it, planning to let him finish the job and then change him. Nothing out of the ordinary. Then I started to notice that the places where he was pressed against me seemed a little sweatier than usual, so I leaned him forward to check his diaper, just in case - and - AND. OMG. POO. EVERYWHERE. This was like the silent assassin A-bomb of poosplosions. All up and down his back, all over my shirt and pants, all over the boppy.

I gasped mid-sentence, got off the phone with my dad and then hollered for Mr. Fantastic because this was a job for two people, at least one of whom was not screeching in horror. Mr. F took Monkey - he had to hold him by one arm and one leg to avoid getting pooed - and I ran to strip off in the bathtub, only to discover that my bra and underwear had also been 'sploded. I can't believe the amount of poo that escaped that little body. Thank heavens for Mr. F who got the boy cleaned up and dressed in new clothes while I was hopping around going "ewww" and trying to wash poo off everything at the same time.

This is why they make babies so cute. See?

Breaking News

I officially now weigh less than my driver's license says I do. *\o/*

Peanut: Four months!

Peanut - four months already! So it turns out, we're not really calling him "Peanut" all that much anymore. He has lots of nicknames - most often I call him Monkey. I have no idea where that came from, although he does have these big ears that kind of stick out, so maybe it was subconscious. And he gets called PreciousPreciousPants by the both of us a lot, with the occasional Captain FussyPants thrown in as needed. Also, there's Noodle and Doodlebug, and I seem to call him ____-y Bear all the time, inserting whatever adjective fits at the moment, such as Sleepy Bear, Hungry Bear, etc. This has somehow morphed into Monkey Bear oftentimes which I'm sure when he gets older will be confusing. Also, he gets from Daddy a lot Fletch-y Poo. And to round it out, I seem to be calling him Buddy a lot when we're (I'm) having a conversation. So, lots of names, but strangely, not usually the one we started with.

All is well, although we have discovered that it turns out Mom really does know best. See, since about the time he was three months-ish, Fletcher has been excessively drooly, fussier than usual - especially at night, and had green poo. If you read as many baby books as I do, you would know that these are all classic signs of teething. The books say average age for first teeth is around 6-7 months but it can happen as early as 3 and as late as 12. So I was thinking maybe he was teething but couldn't believe it was happening this early.

Fletch had a cold a couple-three weeks ago and while we were at the doctor for this, we had to see a different doc than our usual Dr. Matt. So I asked Dr. NewGuy about Fletch possibly teething already and he totally dismissed it, like "No. No chance. Waaay to early."

So of course you know where this is going...about five seconds after that doctor visit, Fletcher's first tooth broke through. I know! My little baby, all grown up. :) It's the bottom right front tooth and from the looks of things, the left one is close behind. And let me tell you, that sucker is SHARP. I am trying to figure out what we can give him to gnaw on to dull the thing down a bit.

As you may recall, some time ago Fletch randomly decided he doesn't like the binky anymore. This means that when I'm not boobing him, if he wants to suck on something he gets one of our fingers. The other day Mr. Fantastic and I were talking and right around the time Fletcher's tooth was cutting, we both thought we had paper cuts on our finger because it would sting whenever we stuck it in his mouth. Turns out it was the brand new little tooth! Ah, if only we had each complained about our respective paper cuts sooner.

Now that the tooth has fully broken through, you're taking your chances putting a finger in Fletch's mouth. Kid has a powerful bite and it hurts like the dickens if he gets a good chomp on you. Naturally, I am very concerned with how this affects breastfeeding. Turns out, since it's the bottom teeth, as long as he's latched right his tongue will cover the teeth and it shouldn't hurt me at all. It's when the top teeth come in that I'm going to have to worry. I can only hope that won't be until he's a bit older so he will be more "trainable" and I can teach him not to bite Mommy. Yikes.

Let's see...we had our 4 month checkup and shots on the 29th. Everything went well. He was a champ with the shots again and again, I cried more than he did. Same process as before, Mr. F helped hold him and two nurses gave him two simultaneous shots each. Then Mr. F cuddled him and gave him a bottle with a little sugar water (maybe 1/2 oz.) and all was right with the world. As before, he didn't seem to have any lingering effects, although he was hot that night, which I'm not sure was a fever from the shots that they told us we could expect or if it was just because of the heat. Either way, he was fine the next day.

Peanut's growing like a champ. At the 2 month checkup he was 24 inches and just shy of 10 lbs with head circumference of 15 inches. This time he was 13 lbs 13.5 oz, 25.5 inches and 16 inches head. Last time he was in the 15th percentile for weight and the 85th for height, now it's 25th for weight and 75th for height. So while he's still considered tall and skinny, he's much more roly-poly and chubby-baby looking. And of course, still the cutest baby ever. :)

He's made good progress in the rolling over department and although he hasn't quite mastered the straight front-to-back, he is quite good at the multiple roll and pushing himself off things. What that means is that I'll put him on the play mat, turn around for a millisecond, and when I turn back he is three feet away and sideways from where he was. I can see this becoming troublesome in the very near future. He's super strong - holds himself up really well, will push all the way up on his arms when on his tummy with no head wobbling at all. He can almost sit up unassisted and when he's on his back, he will lift his head up and do like a half-crunch and hold it for ages just so he can look at his feet. (They appear to be very interesting feet!)

Peanut's also getting very vocal - lots of laughing and squealing, cooing, etc. He's getting LOUD too. We'll all be minding our own business and suddenly out of nowhere Peanut will start squealing and yowling to raise the roof. I've had to ask him to hold the ruckus down several times. And now we can't stop him smiling, especially when he sees Mommy or it's time to eat. This makes Daddy sad to be second fiddle, but what can we expect? It's Mommy that has the boobie juice.

Doc tells us we can start solids any time now but we would like to hold out until 6 months. There's no evidence that it will make him sleep longer at night (we are still feeding every 2-3 hours at night but sometimes up to 4 hours during the day) and he doesn't appear to be ready yet anyway - still has the tongue thrust thing where he pushes foreign things out of his mouth.

Peanut has some favorite things (besides Mommy, that is...). He still likes bathtime and doesn't mind riding in the car. In fact, riding in the car and going for walkies in the stroller are two surefire ways to put him to sleep. Mr. F has been on some nighttime strolls when Peanut doesn't want to go to sleep. Lots of times the little guy is asleep before Mr. F gets out of the building. Peanut received a gift of a brightly colored squeaky moose from Mr. F's Aunt Joan and he seems to be partial to Mr. Moosey, so we don't go anywhere without him. Peanut also like to clutch fabric in his hand and suck on it - does this a lot with his bibs, so we have taken to giving him these cute little burp cloths to hang on to instead and he seems to love them.

And we had another first this month - swimming! Well, not actually swimming but going to the pool. First we went to the pool in our building, then to Aunt Heidi's pool with cousin Brody, and finally to Water World for cousin Megan's 12th birthday. He doesn't know what to make of the water at first but I think he had fun. He especially seemed to like the wave pool at Water World.


I have uploaded lots of Peanut videos (fairly short - most under a minute long) at my YouTube channel if you want to see Peanut being cute and hear Mr. F and me being dorks. I think I might even be in one or two of them. And as always, for Peanut pictures, check out the Peanut Gallery, which I update regularly with new photos.

And so it begins...

Last night was day one of the Twelve Days of My BirthdayTM. Went out with my cousins H1, H2, H3, T and G to one of my favorite restaurants, Cherry Creek Grill (where I had a glass of champagne, a grilled artichoke and my favorite salad. YUM!) It was a really lovely way to celebrate my birthday and I had such a good time just talking and laughing with them.

I missed Peanut horribly though, and H3 and I had a hard time not talking about our babies, but everyone assured us they'd just tell us to shut up when they got sick of it (which they never did, bless them.)

Today is my actual birthday, and Mr. Fantastic and Peanut have let me take a nice long nap. And when I woke up, there were beautiful roses and cards from both of them and Mr. F is in the kitchen right now baking me a cake! And he tells me that later we are going out to eat with my dad and Steve and I'm to put on my pretty dress but won't say where we're going just yet.

Tomorrow we have a family BBQ for the both of us at Mummy Fantastic's (Mr. F's birthday is on Wednesday) so I am looking forward to that too.

By now you all know just how much I love to have a big deal made out of my birthday, so this one is already shaping up wonderfully. I love surprises!

Thanks to all of you who've already posted birthday wishes! ♥

Fletcher: 3 months, plus bonus HATSTRAVAGANZA

So. Three months. Apparently, the mantra for the rest of my life will be "Where does all the time go?"

Our little Peanut is doing great. He has his fussy moments, but for the most part, he is still a happy little guy. Lots of "talking" and smiles, squeals and laughs. He has excellent head/neck control, and so loves to be upright, whether in his bumbo chair or when we're wearing him in one of the carriers or sitting on a lap. He's also gotten good at grasping things, especially if you touch them to his fingers. His playmat/gym thingy has a monkey hanging from it and he spends a lot of time pulling on it. Because we are twelve, Mr. Fantastic and I giggle like loons when one of us says "Look, he's yanking the monkey!"


Fletcher has also gotten the hang of rolling over, although he doesn't do it a lot. He's pretty content to lie on his back, but he hates tummy time, so he's pretty good at flipping himself over to his back. He's much happier doing tummy time when we lay him on our own tummies. He also does the little mini-pushup thing and rests on his elbows.

Since he was born, when it's time for him to eat, we have always called it "Yum-yums." As in, "Time for yum-yums, baby!" And he may not recognize his own name yet, but he sure as heck knows what yum-yums is. He can be fussy or crying or whatever, and we'll say "time for yum-yums!" and he will stop whatever he is doing and lift his eyebrows and look around for mommy. And then he'll open his mouth when Mr. F brings him to me. The downside to this is that if we accidentally say "yum-yums" and the yum-yums are not forthcoming in the next minute, we move immediately to Defcon 5. You can bet we didn't slip up often once we learned that. Also, "boob" has become a verb. As in, "Well, lets go for a walk now so I can boob him at 3."

Sometime in this last month Fletch suddenly decided he doesn't like his binky (the pacifier) anymore. I know there are whole books written on this subject and many, many people who feel babies should never use a binky. But when the other alternative is your boob, it sure would be nice to have the binky sub in. Luckily, he seems to find a pinky an acceptable substitute, so at least Mr. F can take over.

While he's pretty great at sitting up in his bumbo chair, he's not real good at sitting on his own yet.

Still a little top heavy.

















Success! And a little bit of a smile.






















Peanut, being the sartorial genius he is, has a lot of hats. Many of which he doesn't get the opportunity to wear that often, especially now that the weather's nice, so I decided to take pictures of Peanut in his hats for posterity. I have to say, he tolerated the pictures for hatstravaganza extremely well. Mr. F would like you to know this is his favorite bib in these pictures. It's a polar bear!



The bee hive hat. How cute is this? That's a little row of bee buttons going up the front.




















His other baseball hat, which is a bit bigger than the one he usually wears. But which is nonetheless darling.





















Ride 'em cowboy! He is clearly thinking, "Look, lady, I'll wear the hat. But don't you dare put me anywhere near a horse."


















Winter cap with a dinosaur on it. "I have just seen the pile of hats you have over there..."





















An absolutely adorable hat my friend Erin knitted him. I wish he could wear this hat every day. "OMG, what is sprouting from my head?"




















"Hmm...actually, this is quite fetching. I can see why the bringer of the boobie juice likes it."



















Traditional baby bonnet. He'll probably wear this a lot this summer since it's so light even though it looks pretty old fashioned. "Lady, what year do you think this is? Bring back the ball cap."




















Another winter hat that I adore. "Ah! The fetching sprouty one in blue. Very nice."



















Reversible summer hat. "How YOU doin'?"





















"Good lord, I have just seen the inside of this hat!"





















And this hat, which he has worn only for this picture and probably never will again. It's one of those painter-style caps with flaps in the back, very reminiscent of the 80s. It reminds me of Russ from European Vacation. Probably not the look we're going for this summer. "Duuude."





















So that's it from the world of Peanut for this month.