Gametes In Love

Aka “Elephant: Tastes like Chicken” and “I am G, hear me roar.”

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G is 7 months old today. We celebrated this milestone with Corn & Butternut Squash (yet another veggie meal in his solids repertoire), walks in the park, and naps.

He’s 14 lb 11.3 oz, and almost 1/2″ taller?longer? (what is it at his age?) since last month. His head has grown 3/4″, making room for his World Domination plotting brain. I can’t tell you what he’s planning for us, but I can say that it starts with putting everything in his mouth.

In these last few weeks he’s become a little inch worm… unintentionally, I’m sure. He’s inching upwards while lying on his back: he plants his feet firmly on the floor, lifts up the butt and pushes up. He thinks the change of scenery is funny.

We’re finally having some OK moments on his tummy. We’re a long ways away from tummy time, but he can spend almost 30 seconds on his belly before he realizes it and tries to flip over or scream in disaprooval. And you bet I try to trick him as often as possible.

The side effect of said trickery, however, occasionally produces one pissed off baby. I mean PISSED OFF. He will start crying and as a bonus he now recognizes which of the two parental units was the culprit. He’ll whine for half an hour following, when the offending parent is in his sight. Kid has a temper and holds a grudge. I pity our future.

He’s still a cute one though, so we’re still planning on keeping him.

When S’ parents were in town we had some pictures taken for G’s 6 month birthday. They were taken by Kelly M Photography (who also took his newborn pics) and are really, really great. Can I tell you how incredibly fortunate I feel to have such great photographers around us?

And here’s a bit of contrast from the last time Kelly took pics of G.

Then

& now

Same basket… BIG difference.

G came home today in a cute little onesie… except that it wasn’t his… aaaaaand it was made for girls.

Now granted, as far as girls clothes go, this was really understated, but it feels a little strange to see my boy cross-dress. The irony is that I love having him wear green or yellow outfits that are really gender non-specific. I get asked all the time if he’s a boy or a girl and that doesn’t bother me, yet seeing him in an outfit made for little girls just feels awkward to me.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m not hung up on the boys doing only boy things and girls doing only girl things, but imagining G having been a girl (which is what the outfit is prompting me to do) just doesn’t feel right.

So here goes: G in drag 🙂

I realize I owe you guys an update on my experience with Reglan.

It’s working for me! More than anything else.

I’m not turning into a dairy farm to be sure — I’m not making anything left-over, but at least I’m back to producing just enough for G’s daily consumption. This is a good thing, and I feel very relieved.

I have not experienced any discernible side effects from it which is a good thing. I am feeling more tired and sleep deprived in the mornings, but I think this is work stress related (good stress I assure you). Even better, I’m not seeing any side effects in G either. He’s still a mellow and happy little guy… although have I mentioned he has a temper if he doesn’t get what he wants? That’s a whole other story though.

I stopped the herbal supplements and am just on the Reglan to see if that alone will help, and it has. I still have an occasional 1/2 a beer though. I figure if an adult beverage is in order, it might as well be one that benefits my kid ;p

One test we’re yet to experience though is Aunt Flo time. By my calculation she’s due for a visit in about a week or so, so I wonder how my body will perform on the meds with her around.

That’s it. G is turning 7m on Saturday and is still a breastmilk fed baby. That’s still 7 months more of this diet than I thought he would have and I’m a thrilled little camper. Yey, Reglan!

I found out yesterday what the worst possible sight is when going to get your child from daycare: an ambulence, a fire-truck, 5 cars parked outside, and open gates (normally locked) leading up to your child.

G is fine.

…but one of his classmates wasn’t.

I don’t normally get G after school: S does. However, due to some scheduling stuff I did it. After yesterday’s sight, I can’t say I’m eager to do it again either, for fear of the same sight awaiting me.

I was the 2nd to last parent to pick up yesterday afternoon. I walked in to a sight of a little girl sitting on her mom’s lap, two paramedics surrounding them, and one paramedic standing over my child. Ms. F (the day-care provider) was no-where in the room (as it turns out she was getting the emergency paperwork for the paramedic who was watching over G). I was confused. I didn’t know what was going on: if the teacher was the one who was taken away, was it the little girl getting the attention, was it another child, was it MY child?

The look of bewilderment on my face must have been pretty apparent because as the mom saw me at the doorstep surveying the room for clues as to what happened she told me that her little girl was having a hard time breathing. They were here for her. It turned out that she had had an allergic  reaction, impacting her breathing, and Ms. F immediately called 911. She’ll be OK. They were giving her an inhaler which was making her cry. It was a sad sight, and G was not amused. My little guy was whimpering from all the comotion and hearing his friend be unhappy. It made me want to cry: for the little girl’s discomfort… for the mom… for our teacher who must have been scared stiff… from relief it wasn’t G.

It’s making me really ask a lot of “What if?” questions:

• What if it HAD been Ms. F? She has an assistant some days, but not all week long. What happens to the kids then? Do the older ones know how to call 911?
• What if it had been G? I realized after this that I have a terrible habit of leaving my mobile phone on my desk when I’m in meetings. This has to stop now! I would not have been able to be reached if it had been G, and the idea that he would be alone, or taken to a hospital without me just tears me apart.
• What if something happens when either S or I are home alone with G? We took first aid to help him; but what about us? I don’t have a solution to this, but if any of you have any ideas, please chime in.

I feel like an unprepared parent. I know what I would do in case of earthquake & fire while at home. I didn’t think to prepare for this type of situation. I think that’s what has me rattled most: not what happened, but the prospect of being unprepared if something were to happen.

So that’s my freak-out for the week. Hopefully for the month. Hopefully for the year.

I’m open to suggestion on how to prep better by the way. Wise parents, child caretakers, HELP!

Have you ever noticed the choice in animals on the Fisher Price Rainforest bouncy chair? It’s a monkey and a parrot. And if that wasn’t enough, some toy designer is having a good cackle over the actions that each does: the bird flips over it’s pirch, while the monkey spins when smacked.

Well here’s G having a ball with his toy doing what he’s asked to do: flipping the bird and spankin’ the monkey.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7WWZ1VGv7bQ]

Laugh it up Fisher Price, laugh it up!

G’s outgrowing clothes.

You’re thinking “No, duh, lady — it’s been 6 months!”, but it didn’t really hit me until I folded them to put them away. I’d been shoving small clothes into a bin, until the bin filled up.

There went the “NB” sizes, and the 0-3’s. He’s no longer a newborn.

I’m obviously happy that he’s growing, yet sad that the time we had (reflected in those clothes) has passed.

As I put them away, I remembered many of the outfits and times we had in them: the fancy baby dior duds; his “home from the hospital” outfit; his first baby playdate wear. It’s not just putting clothes away, it’s putting memories away.

It’s bittersweet. ‘Nuf said.

P.S. He’s 14lb 5.3oz (butt naked, pre-food), 25.5″ long and 17″ head circumference.

Well, kind of.

…ok not really speaks, but G been vocalizing a lot more these days.

I’d like to pretend that he knows how to say “Dada” and the Bulgarian word for “Yes”, which is “Da”, but I think he just doesn’t know when to stop the “Da-da-da” syllables. Sometimes we’ll get one (for Yes), sometimes two (for Dada), sometimes a whole bundle in a row. From my perspective, G’s just multi-lingual!

He’s also a little bit like a canary — he really enjoys being the loudest talker in the room. If S and I are talking and not actively listening to his elaborate monologues, he’ll start yelling. It’s cute… so far at least 🙂

G and Special K had a fun-filled play day today. We started off with brunch with little R (aka the Miracle of Wishing For My Miracle), followed by a baby shopping trip at Lullaby Lane (G got some loot), and a little bit of play-time back home.

Here’s G and K illustrating safety drill. Topic? What to do when your head is covered. (aka “Hey, who turned off the lights?”)

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nh-_bRGzC4I]

And here’s how G lovingly caresses the ladies… or in this case, NOT. Sorry, Special K 🙁

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