Posts tagged mom

My son will kiss:

• His mother
• His reflection
• His Grandmothers
• His Aunt

My son will not kiss:

• Me.

However, he did just headbutt me in the eye and sneezed on me in one gross painful motion.

So I got that goin’ for me. 

Yesterday was a pretty big day for Dylan, meaning a big day for us. While sitting in his crib, he just grabbed the side and proceeded to pull himself up to a standing postion for the first time. He can’t even crawl forward yet, and he pulled himself up. The look on his face said, “Yeah, I can do this now. What’s the big deal? Oh, and I can jump.”

Which is what he started to do.

His looked at me and his eyes read, “You like that? Your gonna love this…” as he let go of the side of the crib…and fell on his ass. He looked a little defeated for a beat, but than his toes caught his attention. Despite the defeating fall, pretty big deal around here to be sure.

Later that evening, in an effort to outdo himself, while playing with Christina, he started to crawl. Yeah. Crawl.

He looked at us, saw our smiling faces and his demenor said, “Yeah. I do this now too. You’ve been warned.”

Well, I guess we’re mobile now. 

Again, in an effort to show us he’s no slotch in the growing up department yesterday, we saw that not only is his cutting his top two front teeth, but two more on either side of the bottom front that are already there. 

For those keeping score, we got a a full pull up and jump, crawling, and two more teeth coming through. In one day.

This kid has got to have a pause button somewhere….

Life is full of things that seem almost designed to pull you down, the trick is to recognize them and hold on. No easy task to be sure. On the other hand, the big things, the great things, are easy to spot, and even easier to enjoy. Unfortunately, the great things seem to come to few and far between, while the life’s harder moments can be so easily found everyday. But don’t fret, if you look hard enough, life has a way of balancing out. It’s the little things that can wash out out a bad day, or for just one second of the worst day of your life, make you smile.

• The first cut into a new jar of peanut butter - If I were a better writer, I could use my words to describe this cool little moment, but I think you you’re just going to have to take my word for it. 
• Snow Days - There’s nothing better than waking up and finding out school’s closed.  
• A Shower after a day at the beach - For my money, shower’s don’t get any better.
• Soft, warm cookies, straight from the oven - Lucky for you, Mom can bake like champ.
• Waking up in the morning and realizing you still have a few hours to sleep - This doesn’t happen enough, but when it does, it’s oh so good.
• A really good shave - Sometimes it’s just better than the day before.
• Getting the last slice of pizza - It’s never a bad day when this happens.
• Looking at old class pictures - It’s going to be a long time before you can appreciate this one.
• The smell of the ocean - We live in the city so this smell means it’s time to relax.
• Crayons that haven’t been used yet - They look great and color the best.
• Making your son laugh - You have a long way to go for this one but trust me, this is the best of The Little Things.

Dylan has taken to looking at the light fixtures on the ceilings recently. Then it evolved to just looking at ceilings. Now, anytime he can have the back of his head touch his back, he’s all over it. I’ll be holding him, with my forearm under his ass, and without warning, he’ll throw his head back with reckless abandon,  with no regard to safety, or gravity for that matter and it’s up to me to make sure he doesn’t fall 5 feet 10 inches to the floor. Apparently, looking at things upside down is his new hobby. To each his own I guess. 

Aside form the mini heart attack and surporise reflex test that provides, it also gives me chuckle because he just looks like a Pez Dispenser when he does it. 

Now if I could just arragne to have little rectangular candies come from his neck, I’d really have somthing here.

I’ve often written about how being a Stay At Home Dad is hard, in part because the days of the week have no feeling. There’s no Friday “feeling”, there’s no Monday “feeling”. Well, that changed a bit yesterday.

After the boy was all aces during Easter at my Grandmother’s, when we got home and after a few hours of sleep, he turned into some whiny little monster sent to the this planet to break me down and systemically destroy my patience. 

In the wee hours of Monday morning Dylan getting up no less than 4 times, seemingly for no other reason then to make sure we weren’t getting too comfortable, you know, in bed… sleeping. When he woke up, and Christina left for work, he began his assault on my sense. Non-stop whiny that started at 9 am, with no end in sight. I tried EVERYTHING, and nothing worked. Everything seemed to just piss him off even more. Even my clownish antics, that can usually get a smile when he’s crying, solicited an even louder and more annoyed whine. He wasn’t happy, and wanted me to know.

When Christina got home, the whining continued until a little nursing put him to sleep…about an hour too soon. Without a bath. Without pajamas on. Normally, it wouldn’t be a problem, but the Little Dude is a little creature of habit, something out of the ordinary, throws him waaaaay off.

Well, he woke up shortly after, and continued his crank ass ways. At about 9:30 I took him in his room, closed the door, shut the light, sat with him on the glider and proceeded to have a heart to heart with him. 20 minutes later, mid heart, he fell asleep.

Great, all my tricks to make him happy or sleep don’t work. But my outpouring of Fatherly emotion and advice, knocks him out cold.

Now that Dylan is nearly 8 months old, he’s been able to communicate the things he wants a little better, it’s not ALL crying and whining, leaving us to play baby detective. When he wants to be picked up, he’ll look at you, raise his arms and wiggle his fingers. If you’re holding him a certain way and he wants to be re-positioned, he has his cues for that. All in all, it’s about 40% less detective work these days, which is both awesome to see and makes the day-to-day a little easier.

The past few weeks saw this scenario around the house: Someone would be holding him, he’d appear the see someone he’d rather have hold him, and reach his arms out towards the desired person and grunt. We thought this was so cute. He was reaching for the one he wants. If he was reaching for me, I thought I was hot shit. If he was reaching for Christina, she thought she ruled the roost.

It wasn’t until a few days ago, that we realized that it wasn’t that he’d rather one of us to hold him. It was that the other person was closer to the object he wanted to grab! For weeks, we were strutting around the house, convinced the boy was picking who he wanted to hang out with. Now we know he’s just using us…like one of those grabber sticks old people and wheelchair bound folks use.

My seven and half month old son plays me like a fiddle.

I know this and do not change my behavior. 

He wins yet again.

Well played Dylan. Well played.

Dylan has never been a good sleeper, whether it be at night or naps, he just doesn’t go down easy and and only sleeps at small intervals. Luckily he was always a good eater and if given the option, Christina and I always said we’d take a better eater. However, the tables are turning, well not turning, more like falling apart. Now that we’re on solids and three meals a day, (not counting breastmilk), things have begun to fall off the tracks a bit. Breakfast is easy, fruit and oatmeal. Lunch is usually Greek yogurt and fruit and sometimes a little tough to get down. Dinner is veggies and some kind of gross pureed meat and takes forever. Out of the blue, feeding has become a chore. It would suck, but if he traded bad eating for good sleeping, at least there’s a compromise there somewhere. But alas, that’s not the case. With babies, there’s no such thing as compromise, only sacrifice.

This morning, the Little Dude woke up at 5 ready to rock and roll. 5?! Even some farmers hit the snooze button that early. That’s not to mention the getting up every hour or so during the night for past two weeks. Yes, teething is playing a part, but I don’t think that’s the answer for everything.

What is the answer? For me, it’s a lot of Jack Daniels in a glass with a drop of soda. For him, it might be a lot of breast milk in a bottle with a drop of Jack Daniels. Either way, I think everyone wins there.

At least one day a week, Dylan will wake up at some ungodly hour of the morning and refuse to go back to sleep. Apparently, that day is today. And every week, I come to the realization that my son’s cuteness is directly related to the time of day. 

A smile at 2:30 in the afternoon, awesome, puts a smile on my face. A smile at 2:30 in the morning, oh no, don’t you dare think about waking up for good now.

Babbling at noon? Keep going! Can you say Mamma? Dada? Babbling at midnight? Will you just stop and go back to sleep! It’s not time for talking, it’s time for sleeping.

Blogging at 6:03 in the evening? No sweat, something cool must’ve happened. Blogging at 6:03 in the morning? Are you fucking kidding me? Something is horribly wrong, go back to sleep!

Seven months in and I still can’t bring myself to get dressed before noon most days, so obviously, I’m doing something right. With that said, I’m writing this post in an old pair of shorts, a tee shirt, and Dylan on my knee pulling my leg hair. Who’s got a hang of this Dad thing? This guy!

• Dylan loves a tired Daddy - That’s the only explanation based on his behavior. It doesn’t matter if we go to bed at 9:00 or at 12:00, the second my head hits the pillow at night, Dylan will wake up. If I try to steal a few minutes of sleep when he naps, the moment I I let out the that sigh of relief when I lay down, he wakes up. It doesn’t matter what time he goes to bed, whether he sleeps through the night or is up every hour, he will get up and 6 am ready to rock and roll. My theory? He like the grey hairs that are showing up and the dark circles that aren’t leaving.
• It really isn’t getting easier - I figured the longer we did this parenting thing and the older he got, the easier it would get. Wrong. The days of easy feedings where he just lay still are gone. The feedings these days are met with tiny hands that wander around around your face like Stevie Wonder on a blind date (HA! See the what I did there?!) Fingers that find themselves in your nose only to quickly move into your mouth. His king fu grip on my beard is only slightly less painful then when he’s trying grab my eyeball out of the socket. 
• The importance of routine - This might be the biggest and best lesson I’ve learned about being a SAHD. Without routine, nothing can get done and Dylan gets pissed.
• Making baby food is awesome - Seriously, I love it.
• It’s just flying by - Time moving way too fast. He’s growing out of clothes, getting too big for swings, eating baby food, it’s just too much too soon. Next month I plan on finding Dylan’s slow-mo button so we can enjoy these times just a little longer. 

Going purely by Dylan’s reactions, the very act of trying to put him down for a nap is met with complete outrage. I am one nervy son a bitch to try and do something as outlandish as that.

Dylan’s mood when he wakes up from his 20 minute nap is that of complete and total offence. The very idea that I had the balls to put him in his crib while he slept to give some quiet and comfort while he naps is just unimaginable.

Good thing he’s a nice guy because he forgives me for it every day.