Gametes In Love

We’ve been alerted that S2 is showing signs of teething. Kid is not even 5m old. WTF? Ensue my panic. I’m not ready for him to teethe! My nipples aren’t ready for him to teethe!!!

It would explain a lot of his recent behavior though: the constant first in mouth, the drooling, the stuffy nose… the frequent night wake-ups.

What’s the rush kid? You couldn’t wait to run for the exit, you’re staring at my food with those devouring eyes, and now this? Why couldn’t you take after me and wait to sprout chompers AFTER you turned one?

Clearly there will be no break between teething children in our home. Just as G is finishing up his last molar we’ll be starting over again with S2. I can only hope, at least, that S2 will take it easy on us for those first few.

Sigh!

I’ve mentioned this before, but daycare tracks diaper changes, bottles and naps for the kids in the infant/toddler room. I LOVE this! Being a data junkie aside, it’s actually really helpful for me as a working parent. It helps me plan for my evening better. Last bottle at 3, and it’s now 5:30? Well, then, baby’s dinner comes first. If it was after 5, then I have the possibility of eating with the S and G. Short naps throughout the day? Then get ready for a loooong night with lots of wake-ups.

I look at this sheet every afternoon, so imagine my surprise last week when I saw this:

7:20 Breastfed.

Breastfed? Cool! This is a special treat for me since I left by 7:15 that day. So I jokingly asked Ms. J “So who breastfed by child this morning?” Poor Ms. J gave me the most horrified look. She doesn’t come in to open in the mornings, so, sadly, she had no idea what had happened that day. I assured her that I wasn’t upset in any way, just that I found it humorous.

I will admit though, that I am just a wee-bit disappointed. How sweet would it be to have this option, huh? Talk about full service daycare!

S2 loves his paci. He’s also trying reeeeeeeeallllly hard to get it back in his mouth when it falls out.

Sometimes I feel he’ll make himself crosseyed looking for it:

S2’s friends are finally all named. It took us awhile to agree on a name for the cow. Interestingly enough the cow is getting the name I orginally wanted to call G’s giraffe. So…. presenting:

Rory. From Roary… ‘cuz he’s a tiger
Mo. As in Mohawk… ‘cuz the zebra looks like he’s got one, AND
Spot. Spot the cow.

After a good nap today  I took G to his little activity mat for some tummy time. We’re really trying to be diligent about this even though he’s still not a huge fan.

S was in the kitchen (doing something), as I, 5 feet away, laid G down. And there he went — from his belly to his back. His big ole’ head (this kid really has a big one, let me tell you) finally gave him some momentum to get going. I squealed from excitement, and as S heard this he was so bummed. He was standing so close and yet he missed it. I was thrilled, and G seeing how excited we both were over this new accomplishment just laid there smiling.

So I flipped him over again (no tears even for try #2) and he rolled a second time. This time for S’ viewing pleasure. It was so cool to see! It was watching rolling in slow motion. First the head, then his shoulders, followed by his little bootie.

Now S and I are both grinning and cooing, G is smiling ‘cuz he knows something good is happening, and we go for belly time placement #3. And he rolls. Again!

At this time of course, I’m thinking  “I gotta go get the camera”. I run as fast as I can up the stairs, digging into the diaper bag, and come storming back down. Of course now that the camera is running, G wants no part of having any video evidence that he will tolerate tummy time, let alone roll, so the tears and crying begin. Figures! So you’ll have to take our word for it… for now.

If you think about it, rolling is hard. I was on the floor the other day looking up at S as we were disecting the anatomy of rolling. Think about it: how would you roll over if you were a baby? You can’t really lead from the hips because you don’t have the core strength to do it. Your arms are also not strong enough to get you going, and a little short to boot. Get on the floor and give it a shot. It’s good, cheap family fun. I promise 🙂

I also discovered tonight that G does a pretty good job sitting up on his own. He won’t initiate it, but if I pull him away from my body, he props himself up pretty well. Occasionally he’ll loose balance and start to topple over, but I think it’s pretty good.

I’m pretty excited. Another set of milestones!

There was a period of time when I believed that I wouldn’t be consuming any alcohol until Griffin was weaned. But as it turns out my consumption of beer is almost “prescribed”.

I, sadly, am not one of the lucky moms who produce a great deal of milk. G gets what he needs for his weight group and nothing more. I’ve tried Fenugreek supplements, the teas, the oatmeal, the extra pumping, but I gotta tell you out of all of the above what’s worked (surprisingly so) has been beer. Yeah, no joke. Beer!

Beer is supposed to help with breast milk production.  More specifically, if you want to get nerdy, the polysaccharides in barley stimulate prolactin.

Yet I don’t like beer. Tequila, wine, cocktails… yummy… but beer? No thanx! It has a bitter taste, that I just don’t enjoy.

Still, I was out with some colleagues for lunch yesterday and everyone ordered a beer, so I figured… “Sure, why not? I’ll give the “old-wives tale” a shot!” I drank half of my “lunch beer” (yes, that’s how it was ordered) and at my next pump — immediate response. Nothing miraculous, mind you, but enough for me to be able to tell. I repeated the experiment at dinner with another half a glass, and again I had some good results.

I’m surprised! I never thought I’d be finding myself consuming alcohol in the name of my child, yet here I am.

I’m not getting drunk here, to be clear, but it looks like I’ll be integrating half a pint of beer to my diet once in awhile.

Now the trick is finding out what beer I tolerate. I feel so immature really because I don’t know what to order. I just don’t really know what’s out there. Tonight at dinner, due to the lack of “menu” of beers, I ordered one based on the highlighed sign at the window of the restaurant. I got lucky, it was fine (Sierra Nevada Pale Ale if you’re curious), but I gotta study up on my beers. So, if there’s anything a beer-novice should try, give me your recommendations.

I’m a glutton for punishment. Last night after a carb-o-licious day of meals I decided to get on a scale and see which way the numbers are tilting these days.

Woe and behold, after the little “calculating” animation, 106.6lb!!!

This I saw and went “Whaaaaa?” Now, I’ve heard that breastfeeding can help you keep weight down, but going back to Jr. High weight isn’t something I’d heard of before.

So I pull out the scale a little further out into the bathroom, hearing some crunching noises along the way. I step on it… more crunching… 113lb. Close, but still unbelievable. What is going on?

I look down at the scale and notice little cat-food bits along the drag path. I guess Neko has been storing some “reserves” for a rainy day under our scale. It was uneven when I first stepped on, so not exactly at it’s accurate best. I cleaned it all off, and re-weighed. Finally a weight I would believe (and wouldn’t you like to know what it is?)

So next time you want to loose lots of weight fast? Just put some kitty bits on the floor and go nuts.

In other not-so-pleasant news, Mother Nature has decided that she’s missed me and has returned for her monthly visits. I’m not thrilled! I was kind of enjoying living pad and tampon free for the while. I genuinely hoped that as long as I was breastfeeding she’ll stay away. Now my milk supply is dropping, I’m tired and I’m moody. Oh, joy!

Yesterday, S and I drove G to melt-down mode. It was entirely our fault, and yes we paid for it.

We went to the Tech Museum to check out the Leonardo da Vinci exhibit. It was fun, but since G is not a good napper while on the move, the poor little guy didn’t get more than 40 min of sleep the whole day. He is just so curious and wants to be social and the idea of napping, as much as he knows he needs it, doesn’t settle in.

So to makeup for yesterday, today G went into hybernation mode. He slept in to 8:30 (which for him is unheard of), 2 hours later he was asleep for a 2 hour nap, woke up, ate, played a little, then crashed out again. This happened a few times throughout the day. He even slept in his Pack N’ Play: the unit also known as the “insta-cry-machine”. To top it off, he requested an early bed-time and zonked out by 7:00pm. I’m glad he’s catching up, but I feel badly for causing it.

It appears now that in addition to our early dine out schedule, our week-end socializations will also be mapped around  nap-times. It’s moments like this that make me a little relieved we don’t have two children. Two kids with two separate nap-times? How does anyone get anything done?

On a complete tangent though: as part of the exhibit, we all saw a movie: an 40 min IMAX presentation of “Adrenaline Rush: the science of risk”. How appropriate is it that G’s first-ever movie turned out to be about skydiving, base jumping, and a test of da Vinci’s parachutte? G behaved himself remarkably well. Nap issues aside, I’m so proud of my little guy.

S and I are realizing that we’re coming to a dangerous point in time in G’s life: toy attachment. His new favorite is a soft froggie blanket. He almost can’t nap without it. The problem? We only have one! G, being who he is, is happy to mark his territory with the necessary amount of spit-up. Going one day without washing is OK, but by day 3 this blankie, as cute as it is, begins to qualify for bio-chemical weapon status. We try to wash it while he sleeps, but if it doesn’t go in the drier in time, it’s not ready for day care the next day, and naps aren’t as pleasant. So tonight, after S and I confirmed that Froggie (blankie’s name) has reached irreplacable status, we went online to find a back-up.

As it turns out, S and I are not the only parents that buy “back-ups” of their kid’s fave toys. The company is making a business out of it. Presenting the “Three of a Kind” box. They advertise it as a “Pair and a Spare”.

I’m not quite so sure I’ll need 3, but it’s an interesting concept. The only problem? Their marketing department didn’t do their math quite right. Buying one blankie is $10. Buying a box of 3 is $39. Why would I want to pay $9 extra for a package I can make myself by adding 3 of the same item in my cart? Shipping and handling is even cheaper when you don’t have to deal with the weight and size of a box. Am I missing something?

Either way… I’m now impatiently awaiting Froggie’s dopple-ganger.

Some pics of G in his very cool jumparoo