The state of this blog

I've watched many bloggers slow down their posting pace, popping in once every few months with an update and a vague expression of hoping to post more regularly. I've noticed that it often happens soon after the birth of a second or third child, which also naturally goes hand-in-hand with the aging of the oldest child. In most recent months, that's been me, too. I get it - life is busier, kids are becoming their own people, etc.

I've been thinking a lot about the direction and future of this blog and my life as a blogger, and many options and concerns have been rolling around in my head for the last few months. I've considered making it private, or starting a new blog, or just posting updates on the kids to this blog as a virtual scrapbook. The day I read this post by one of my favorite mommy bloggers, my heart sank with sympathy for what she was going through but also in complete shock that my mental battle was one that she was sharing in her farewell post. I don't have the large following that Kate has, and I certainly don't blog as regularly or about as many things that she writes about, but I totally got it, and it bothered me that I really didn't know what I wanted for the future of this blog.

The truth is, this blog was started simply (almost exactly six years ago) as a way for our family and friends to keep up on our rather dull lives. The majority of our loved ones lived far away, and I had spare time to keep up with the major events of our lives as an engaged couple and then as newlyweds. When I was pregnant with Elle, it served as a great way to track observations, developments and random thoughts about our impending roles as parents. When she was born, it was a central place for updates, anecdotes, photos and videos that not only could be shared but also preserved for all time. Today, most of the sharing of our lives is done through Instagram and Facebook in short bursts of easy to handle information or observations. Those social media outlets now serve as abbreviated, real-time blogs.

I absolutely love looking back at old blog posts and am thankful for the electronic journal of sorts that this blog has been. I've tried to continue the updates and highlights in the last two years, but while our life is not always exciting, it's hectic. It's hard to find the time to write, especially when I feel obligated to catch up on blogging about things like holidays, trips, etc. instead of writing about what I'm feeling or want to share. I feel guilty that Wesley's first year is so sporadically captured on this blog. I don't like feeling obligated or guilty about something that was once fun and enjoyable. Life is short, and I don't have spare moments or energy to spend beating myself up about how far behind in blogging I might be at any given point in time. It's amazing how priorities and interests can change, and while blogging was once a large part of my life, writing for public consumption is not something I am finding enjoyable any more.

Two other large issues are at play here, too: My kids are quickly getting older. Elle will be entering a VPK program in less than a month - her first taste of school. She's no longer the infant that said "Baby" as her first word or started walking at 15 months - two very blogworthy things to share that I'm glad to have preserved in this space. Her life is not mine to share with the internet at large, and let's face it - my kids are very much a large part of my life and therefore would be the subjects of (or at least mentioned in) the majority of my future blog posts. And while Wesley is not yet walking or talking, before I know it he'll be heading off to join the world in various ways, and the world doesn't need to know all of his business.

The other issue is that I've had a sizable amount of posts gathering dust in draft form that I don't feel comfortable sharing with the world wide web, either, because they're too honest or too emotional or just share too much about things going on in my life. Writing is therapeutic for me, and I feel that there are things I can't write freely about because I never know who might be reading my deepest thoughts or most superficial struggles, now or in the future. There are - have been, will be - certain details of our lives that don't need to be shared. In general, I'm not a super private person (Tim some might call me an oversharer), but there's a point where even I'm no longer comfortable being public about some of our struggles, goals, dreams, plans - and I've undoubtedly reached it. I hope to write in some corner of the internet for myself, for our family of four, but currently have no plans to expand beyond that. If I would open it up, it would likely be a much more controlled scenario, with access granted only to the friends and family for whom this blog was initially created.

I love the community and camaraderie I've found in the blogging world - so many bloggers and blog posts have offered ideas, empathy, cheer, encouragement and support in the last few years. I'm blessed to call some of them friends in real life and know that our bond transcends the blogosphere. As life has gotten busier, I've had less time to read blogs and even less opportunity to comment on the blogs of those that I still enjoy. I'm no longer interactive like I once was, and that was part blogging that I loved. I hope that I've been able to be a resource to some people and that my posts have occasionally been entertaining or thought-provoking or informational. I'm thankful for this space and the opportunity to share what have certainly been the most life-changing six years of my life.

I'm hoping to post a few past-due monthly updates for Wesley, a birthday party recap and a letter to Elle for her birthday in this space so I can keep them all in one place, but after that, the site will be quiet. I don't have definite plans yet to make it private, although that certainly might happen in the future.

One.

Dear Wesley,

Right now, you are sleeping peacefully on your side, your full belly protruding ever-so-slightly from the 24M(?!) pajamas that I dressed in you in hours ago. Your face is serious but peaceful, your body relaxed and long, and your breathing is slow and steady. Your sister sleeps a few feet away, and I know it's just a matter of hours before you two giggle back and forth as you welcome the start of a new day. Today is your birthday, and although you two usually end the day with the same shared giggles that you begin with, you were both so tired that you fell asleep within minutes.

Holding a photo of himself taken
on his first day on his first birthday.

I think back to the relatively tiny bundle of baby that I first met one year ago today and can't believe how fast the last 12 months have passed. I vividly remember holding you in our hospital room, feeling the weight of your exhausted body as we waited for a short-staffed nursing team to come get you for some tests and a bath. As much as I needed some rest, I couldn't stop examining your crinkled ears, readjusting the swaddle of your blanket to cover up those precious toes and watching the expressions you made in your sleep. We had both had a rough day, but in the effort and exertion that was labor (mine) and delivery (yours), there was so, so much joy.

Beach Baby says "Mmmmm, sand."

You have been a blessing from the moment we found out about you, and every day has revealed more of the happiness you bring. You are most certainly your own person, and as I think back to the day you were born I can see so many traits that have carried through your first year, from your laid back attitude to your unstoppable energy to your almost constant pleasant demeanor.

You were in no rush to arrive, but once you did, you became a force to be noticed, starting with your early days of colic to your more recent discovery of your voice and the noises you can make with various objects you find. You can be an observer just as much you are a little man of action, and you're content to just stand and watch the world - as long as you have a marker or plastic hammer to carry in your hand and occasionally shove in your mouth. It's funny to see how your "comfort object" is often a plastic spoon - if it's not in your mouth you're using it to gesture or bang on the floor as you babble something that is obviously very important and not to be ignored.

Joyful lover of birthday cupcakes.

And just as you can be watchful and still, you can be a ball of energy with little time or need for naps because there is too much to do, too much to see, not enough calm and quiet to slow down from it all. You play hard, but when you finally do rest, you rest hard. I fully credit your ability to fall in to a deep, long sleep almost every night to the fact that you barely pause for naps during the day during the week. You'll allow a morning nap at home, but at daycare you find it hard (and probably needless) to nap long, if at all. So at night (and sometimes for long, luxurious weekend naps), you collapse in to the heavy sleep that allows me to see you pause long enough to remember that small newborn that rested on my chest in that hospital room 365 days ago, eyes puffy and swollen from newness and limbs curled up from nine months spent in an increasingly cramped space.

On the go and couldn't be cuter if he tried.

I can not get over how handsome and sweet you are and am sure I will embarrass you for the rest of your life with proclamations of both attributes. You are also truly one of the most pleasant, happy human beings I have ever seen. Sure, when you're not pleasant and happy, you are very much not pleasant and happy, but you're only human, and that's to be expected. You are constantly chattering cheerfully and smiling and laughing - I absolutely adore the noises you make and wish I could bottle them up. You find such simple things to be absolutely hilarious, and I hope that happens forever. The relationship you have with your sister warms my heart and makes me smile - you are enamored with her and find nearly everything she does to be fascinating and entertaining.

It's hard to memorize the features and moments in time that pass so quickly, erasing one another at lightning speed. But today, I let myself slow down and recall certain moments of the day you were born. It's hard to believe it was a year ago and not just yesterday. Your birth day was a day that certainly changed my life - and the lives of others - in so many wonderful ways, and I will be forever grateful for the memories and little person that day produced. I am so very glad you're ours, and I look forever to celebrating more days, memories and milestones with you as well as revisit that special day you arrived in our arms.

I love you, sweet boy, always and forever.

Mommy

Christmas 2013: (More Than) Slightly Belated

Even though things were crazy this holiday season with a wee Wesley, lots of stuff going on at work for Tim and I and the regular hectic day-to-day stuff, we made sure to get in plenty of holiday events, observances and traditions. I felt like the whole month of December was a blur (we even celebrated Tim's 45th birthday during the holiday craziness!), but we definitely created memories and had a lot of fun.

It was Wesley's first Christmas, so that was fun, but it was also the first year that Elle really "got" what was going on. This was good in that she started to ask questions about Jesus' birthday and got excited about all of the stuff going on, but bad in that she decided that Santa was bringing her pretty much every toy ever for Christmas. Wesley didn't know what was going on at all, but both he and Elle got some awesome gifts and spent a large part of the day opening presents from family members and friends across the country. Not a bad holiday at all :)

And now for a recap in mostly photographic form:

Making salt dough ornaments:

Decorating/eating our gingerbread house!

Elle admires/eats her work.

Visiting a spectacular light display at a church in Sarasota - they have an amazing light show timed to Christmas music as well as hot chocolate, wagon rides and other attractions. A friend from church invited us to go with her family, and it was awesome and intense.

We decorated the tree! Elle was a bit obsessed with the placement of our fake candy canes.

Elle developed an intense love for hot chocolate.

Santa and Mrs. Claus came in via helicopter and landed at a local park. Elle wasn't interested in meeting Santa, but we did participate in some of the other activities.

Watching Santa's helicopter land.

Florida girl, playing in the snow!

Face painting made Elle a sweaty little Rudolph.

We couldn't let Christmas pass without the chance to meet Santa, though. We figured Elle might be more comfortable meeting the big guy in a smaller setting, and when we heard about the Gulf Coast Animal League hosting a "Meet Santa" for kids and pets, we took advantage of the opportunity. We got to support a great cause, check out some cool holiday decorations and meet Santa! Elle was a little shy but did better than the last few years, and Wesley just went with it, outfit and all.

If you can't do this for your first Christmas, when can you?!

Elle mostly just told Santa what Wesley wanted.

We attended my company's holiday party - Tim is usually not able to attend because of high school football playoffs, but this year the stars aligned and he was able to come for the whole thing :)

We're silly, but fun!

Photobombed by our 16-year-old coworker.

Yay!

There were sibling photos ops by the tree, of course.

   

And Santa came and left lots of presents for a certain little girl and boy. Elle kept asking for a flashlight puppy, a doll stroller and a camera. She insisted that Wesley wanted a "Skit" - aka "Scout," the companion to her "Violet" stuffed animal.

Hopefully I'm not missing any big events or details, but there you have it - four months late, but our 2013 Christmas recap! Stay tuned for another trip in the way-back machine, when I recap our Halloween trip to Disney and explain how I made Wesley's super easy, carpet-ruining unique costume :)

A sibling splash

There's several reasons why the blog has been nearly silent over the last nine months. I'd like to address two of those reasons: Elle and Wesley.

While they're part of why I haven't blogged as much lately, they're the two biggest reasons why I am determined to get some key posts up - from an update on what Elle's been up to lately to a roundup of what we did at Christmas this year (I never said the posts were timely!), I have always used this space as a diary/scrapbook of sorts. And I hate that there are already gaps in the short history of my little family.

I wanted to capture a pivotal moment from last weekend before it escaped me. But first, some background:

I am one of four siblings. Tim is one of two. I always felt that I wanted to have more than one kid, but I was quick to mentally reign in my "Oh yes, three or four, for sure" to "Two would be good" after logically considering factors like finances, Tim's age, my sanity, etc. If Wesley had been a girl, there was a good chance we might have gone for No. 3 to see if we could add some male offspring to our brood.

And while this might be kind of illogical based on my previous statement, I resent the fact that people (both those who know us and complete strangers) assume we're done with two because we have "a perfect set." As if not having a boy and a girl somehow makes things less perfect. I've internally bristled at the "perfect pair" comments, because while it definitely contributed to our decision to stop at two, we weren't going to continue trying to have kids until we achieved a certain gender or number of "sets." Three is a lot more fathomable than five, six or "however many it takes to get a boy." It's true that we're done-zo on the procreation front, but my prevailing thought on stopping now is that we have two beautiful, healthy children. We can provide for them and enjoy life as a family of four. Our life feels complete now, and while I am in awe of the whole experience of creating, carrying and delivering these tiny beings, I've been fortunate enough to do it twice without any huge issue or complication. I'm thankful for that and always will be.

All that aside, having two kids is much, much harder than I ever expected. I know I've mentioned it, but those first few months had me wondering what we'd gotten ourselves in to. I'm sure having two small children is tough enough, but we're also 1,000 miles away from family and working opposite schedules, so adjusting and juggling things have been HARD. Emotionally and physically, I've been exhausted. For so long, I felt like I was constantly attending to a demanding newborn and therefore neglecting the needs of my oldest child. The guilt of that was heavy, even though I knew it was necessary and Elle wasn't going to grow up damaged just because I couldn't respond to her every request immediately for the first few months of her brother's life.

As Wesley has gotten older and slightly more independent, things have gotten easier to balance. I can actually make dinner while he sits nearby, happily playing, instead of trying to throw together a meal one-handed while he screamed. He's got a more predictable nap schedule, so we're not dealing with as many missed naps or car snoozes to get him shakily through another day. In general, he's a much happier, steady baby than he was 5-6 months ago.

On the downside, though, because he's nearly crawling and in to absolutely everything, Elle is constantly threatened by the stealthy baby swiping her stuff.  When she swipes it back, Wesley seems utterly confused as to why his previously perfect little universe has been rocked. (Welcome to the rest of your life, kids.) We know she loves him, though - she recently told us we couldn't get rid of him "because I yove him!"

I'm sure if we were to have more kids, we would adjust to life as "a family of ..." and soon feel like things had never been different. As it stands now, it's hard to remember life before Elle, and before Wesley. (Not impossible, as I often daydream of quiet mornings and solo shopping trips, but those are tradeoffs I happily accept in exchange for cuddles, giggles and priceless memories.) I'm told, and can easily understand, that adding a third or fourth kid is much easier than going from one to two. I'm still not super interested in doing it myself, but I can see the logic.

One of the ways things have gotten easier as Wesley has gotten older and gained basic skills (like sitting) is that I no longer have to juggle two baths. For the first few times of their dual bath, Wesley spent his entire bath grinning like an idiot, looking at me like "This is the best. thing. ever." The kid idolizes his big sister (although his adoration for our cats has recently taken priority over anyone and anything else). Elle kept asking me "Can the baby get out now?" Even though she spent the entire bathtime glaring at him (and me) as she repeatedly gathered up and cornered off all of the bath toys, Wesley was in absolute heaven. It gave me a glimpse of what life will be like for these two, almost exactly three years apart, as they grow up.

Although the initially awestruck reaction has waned, Wesley has still always enjoyed dual baths more than Elle, who has begrudgingly accepted that she has to share tub real estate every night. The bath ritual has become a sigh of relief for me, allowing them to entertain themselves for a while before we start preparing for bed. I try to keep the splashing to a minimum, play life guard to Wesley's unsteadiness and referee the bath toy hoarding by Elle, but it's a much more pleasant experience for all of us these days. Wesley's worst moods have always been cured by the bath, and as we've delved in to solid food, the need for a bath immediately after dinner has become vital.

Last weekend, we had a definite sibling turning point, as bath time was all giggles and splashing. As much as I hate getting covered in water, I just laughed as they copied each other, feeding off each other's squeals and claps over and over, and I permitted more splashing than my OCD-self can normally handle (water on the bathroom floor drives me a tad nutso). And then:

"Can he stay? I'm having fun with him!"

The rest of the evening was spent on Elle's bed, the three of us gathered around books. Wesley rolled around, laughing if we nudged him one way or the other, happy to be not only part of the game, but the actual physical vehicle of the fun. There was interactivity. There was a lot of laughter. There was enjoyment.

This bath time revelation came at a time when I kept wondering when the "magic moment" would occur, when the phrase of the week was "Don't push your brother over!" (to which Elle repeatedly responded "But I wanted him to lay down!"). 

I'm sure as they grow older, they'll rally together about how mean Mom was or reminisce about how Dad was always the fun one - I am lucky enough to know firsthand that the experiences, the bond, the friendships that siblings share are precious and lasting. These two share more than DNA. They'll grow up sharing toys, parties, indignation, successes and, most importantly, memories. They're good for us, but far more than that - they're good for each other. They will be each other's biggest enemies and biggest protectors. Their relationship will evolve constantly for at least the next two decades, and while they might not always be the best of friends, they've got a lifetime connection.

Yes, this bath tub camaraderie signaled a turning point for my kiddos, when Elle-worshiping Wesley went from adorable, loveable nuisance to accepted, pint-sized sibling playmate. And that makes this mama heart very happy.

A belated letter to my son

Dear Wesley,

It has been a while since I wrote to you. For that, I sincerely apologize.  It's not because I didn't want to write - there have been many times when I've had a post mentally composed, but by the time I get in front of a computer, the words are lost or jumbled. At this point, you've been out of the womb nearly as long as you were in.

I know that some people say that a second child immediately fit in to their lives - "like they'd been there all along" or "we can't remember a time without him/her." To be honest, you didn't fit in to our lives immediately. In our hearts, yes, without a doubt. But it took longer than I expected to feel like we'd even started to figure this family-of-four thing out. I felt like we were all awkward dance partners - tripping, cutting, flailing from one song to the next. Fortunately, after a few weeks, we fell in to a smooth rhythm, and it truly did feel like the four of us were a perfect fit. We wouldn't trade you for the world.

Your first six or so weeks were full of a distinct pattern - eat, sleep, scream-cry, repeat. It wasn't a very enjoyable time for any of us. But after the end of your sixth week, your alert awake times were no longer dreadful. There were times when you would look at us with your then-dark blue eyes and just stare. Not scream. Just stare. And sometimes you'd even grace us with your gummy smile. You would think it was Christmas when you flash your grin around here, buddy - we all acted like idiots trying to get you to smile more, to laugh a little bit, to see more of your happy self emerge day by day.

Soon after you truly emerged from your colic-y times, I returned to work, and I felt like I'd barely gotten a chance to get to know the "real" you. Even though I feel like I miss a lot while I'm at work, I have learned a few things about you in the last several months.

I've learned that you are extremely smart. I think you are far wiser than you should be at such a young age. Your meltdowns during your sister's bedtime would immediately turn to coy smiles when I rush to leave her room because you were fussing so much. You knew exactly what you were doing - you wanted undivided, immediate attention, and that definitely hasn't changed. When you are mad or sad, you are 100% mad or sad. But the minute you get the attention you're seeking, you smile, laugh, talk and you're like an entirely different little person. You've surprised us with this calm, cheerful demeanor - many times when we've been most concerned about how you'll behave, like on a trip to Disney or during our family photos, and you've been happy and patient and peaceful. (Your sister, on the other hand, has often been quite the opposite, but that's another letter for another day.) This has become the norm for you - as long as your most basic of needs are met, you're perfectly content and are usually happy to just go with the flow.

I've learned that you adore your sister. I absolutely love watching you two. You immediately perk up when you hear her voice. You have a look of awe with a dash of anxiety thrown in when she's around - the anxiety is understandable because she tends to be a bit "in your face" and hand-grabby. But you're enchanted. If you were nursing (usually a very focused time for you) and you heard her voice, you'd stop and look around until you found her. She loves you to pieces. She insists on "doing something to him" before she leaves a room - she always wants to "kiss ya." I don't think she's even considered that some day soon you'll kiss back, or that you'll toddle behind her and try to mimic her every move.

I've learned that you pack on the pounds like it's your job. You're filling out each day - you quickly lost the bony butt that you were born with. You certainly enjoy eating. You have gotten so long that it's unbelievable. People constantly guess that you are much older than you are and remark on your size.

I've learned your different cries. I don't think I was ever able to pinpoint your sister's cries like I can identify your hungry cry, your tired cry, your gassy cry, your lonely cry or your general discomfort cry.

I've learned that you're very much a people person. You respond quickly and appropriately to every word directed to you, every smile or coo that a stranger or friend shares. Your daycare provider's husband has deemed you the absolute happiest baby ever, and again, as long as your basic needs are met, you really are. You even survive, happily, with far less sleep during the day than should be humanly possible for someone your age.

I've also learned that you're going to push limits and be my troublemaker. Not out of malicious or vindictive intent, but just out of pure curiosity and disregard to potential danger. You grab at things that you shouldn't. You grin when told "no" or to "stop it." You've attempted many a roll or drop from your changing table, and I'm convinced that you will give me far more gray hairs than your sister ever did in her first two years. 

You're also pretty ticklish.

Until recently your principle mode of transportation was seamless rolls - you effortlessly rolled in one direction or another to reach your desired location. Now you prefer to army crawl, grunting with effort with every heave of your weighty little body. Without seeing you, I can tell when you're beelining for the cats, because the grunts are punctuated with an excited squeal or high growl. As you near true crawling, I can see that we will be constantly challenged by your speed, determination and intrigue.

You, my sweet boy, have reminded me how fun this whole baby thing can be (you know, except the whole first two months of pure and utter colic-y chaos - have I mentioned that wasn't a fun time?). You soak everything in and copy so much and just leave me amazed that we made you, that you're ours, and that this is just the beginning. You're an intense little dude, and while I can definitely see parts of your sister in your looks, your dad tells me constantly that you look just like him when he was a baby. One thing is for sure - you very much look like your dad's father, Grandpa Bob. You have his nose, and I can only hope you also get his intelligence, work ethic and wit, too.

Already, you have grown and changed and developed from a squishy, cranky newborn to a solid, happy infant in the blink of an eye. I know the changes won't stop - and I don't want them to - but at the same time, I wish I could slow down time, or freeze parts ... you're my favorite little guy, and I marvel at all that you are, and all that you will be. I look forward to your laughs, noises and smiles constantly. I listen to you sigh in your sleep and feel a peace wash over me. I could listen to you babble forever - your innocent little baby noises are absolutely adorable, and I know that as quickly as you evolved from baby grunts to baby babbles, you'll speak real words, and soon you'll be a vocal toddler just like your sister.

I'm not rushing any parts of your infancy (well, nothing after the colic, because really, that was hard, and I am thankful you emerged from that with such a cheerful disposition), but it is certainly flying by. It is definitely now hard to remember a time before you, and you make our family complete and our hearts full. I look forward to learning more about who you are and delighting in your happy, curious personality - you are so incredibly special to us, and I hope you always know that.

Love,
Mama (P.S. Work on saying that, please.)

Wesley's eight-month stats

Once again, a belated post, and I don't have official stats, but ...

Estimated weight: 22 pounds (!?!)

Current developments include sitting up and clapping. He went from no balance to nearly professional sitter in just a few days time. And he seriously started the clapping thing one weekend (right before he turned 8 months, actually) and spent an entire day clapping - he's hooked, and it's adorable.

On the eating front, he used up the remainder of my frozen milk supply this month ... going forward, he'll get all formula except nursing sessions in the morning and right before bed.

And seriously? He L-O-V-E-S food. Like, we're going to have to make him get a job to help with the grocery bill if his appetite continues inflating with age. It's amazing to see how much food he can put away, and Tim has repeatedly said he thinks we could just give him food continuously and he would just keep eating and eating. There was one night that he polished off an entire grilled cheese sandwich, a pear and some strawberries and still acted hungry. I wanted to have a chat with him and explain that he'd only been doing this solid food thing for two months and need not be eating the same amount (or more) food as Elle.

Funny, funny boy.

The reflux seemed to be getting no better until he'd been on the medication for almost exactly a month, and finally, we have seen a dramatic improvement and reduction in the amount of times and volume he's spitting up. It's hardly noticeable now, especially after how much he had been doing it before.

We officially ditched the infant seat and installed convertible seats in both cars for him. We scored a spectacular deal on the Chicco NextFit, so he's riding in rear-facing style sans bucket seat.

Bath time is fun time!

He officially dropped his third nap, although some times if he doesn't nap at daycare I get slammed with him trying to sneak a car nap on the way home, which doesn't end well for anyone.

He's firmly in 6-9 month clothing and sometimes decidedly more comfortable in 9-12 month sizes. (He's a big kid!) He just jumped up to size 4 disposable diapers.


He's babbling and making lots of fun noises these days, but the only recognizable word is really "dada," and so far he hasn't associated that with Tim. We've signed to him since birth, and he definitely understands them but hasn't signed anything back except "milk."

Current habits include nursing/taking a bottle 5-6 times a day, eating solids 2-3 times a day, napping 1-2 times a day, sleeping a solid stretch at night (usually sleeps 9-10 hours, then wakes to nurse, then sleeps for another hour or so).

Current loves include solid food (favorites include watermelon, sweet potato fries, mango, yogurt, chicken, cantaloupe and banana), sibling bath time, the cats (he has a radar for them and stares at/follows them whenever he sees them and makes an excited squeal when they're near him), clapping.

Current nicknames Bro, Hoots, Buppa.

Also of note: He met his second family member this month! Aunt Marti had a business trip to nearby Tampa, so she came down a few days early to spend some time with us. Wesley was puzzled at first but appreciated the extra attention. While Aunt Marti was here, we visited several area restaurants, headed to a favorite playground, spent a lovely afternoon at the beach and took in a spring training game (his second!), where he did fabulously, all things considered. 

Wesley's seven-month stats

Once again, a belated post, and this time I don't have stats to add - we don't have a well-baby visit scheduled until nine months, and I didn't even try to get a rough estimate on his height or weight.

Current developments include eating solid food! We're doing baby-led weaning again, and so far Wesley has been open to trying anything and everything. Tim and I are loving watching him eat and explore textures and tastes - he can be the most eager eater and also the most expressive.

On the eating front, we also started supplementing with formula after he turned six months old. I still nurse him in the morning and at the end of the day (either right after we get home or right before bed, depending on several factors but mostly determined by how much seems to be hunger and how much seems to be "in need of comfort) and pump once a day while at work (instead of twice). He usually gets one bottle of breast milk in the morning and then two bottles of formula at daycare, and if he needs a bottle in the evenings he gets formula.

Current developments also include being on his first prescription medication. At his six-month well baby visit, the doctor noted that his weight hadn't really followed an upward curve, but instead had kind of moved straight across the growth chart. Since he's a big kid anyway, she wasn't super concerned, but she did want me to watch his spit up, which had recently increased. Two weeks after the appointment, his spit up was definitely not improving and was worse on some days than it had been in months. Tim and I had both noticed it, and our daycare provider brought it up as well. It seemed like he was constantly erupting, and while he didn't appear to be in any discomfort, I decided to call the pediatrician as she had requested and update that things had not improved. She called in a prescription, and unfortunately it can take 2-4 weeks to kick in. It's also hard to know how much of the medication that he's actually ingesting because he spits up constantly. So hopefully we'll see improvement soon, and hopefully he'll only be on the medication for a few months.

He's also extremely mobile - it doesn't matter that he's not crawling, standing or walking yet, nothing is safe around this kid. He rolls like a cement mixer (which can't help the spit up issue, but you can't stop him, only hope to contain him) and reaches and manipulates himself to get whatever or wherever his little heart desires. I watch him with awe, horror, fear and annoyance.

Current habits include much of the same: nursing/taking a bottle 5-7 times a day, eating solids 1-2 times a day, napping 2-3 times a day (usually twice, and he's definitely not napping for long stretches on days that he goes to daycare, so his weekend naps can often be quite lengthy), sleeping a solid stretch at night (usually sleeps 9-10 hours, then wakes to nurse, then sleeps for another hour or so). He almost always goes to sleep on his own at night (I think he's just completely exhausted) but still sometimes needs help/fusses when put down for naps and often falls asleep in his car seat.

We're getting ready to transition him in to a convertible car seat and out of the convenient (but heavy) infant seat. He's nearing the height limit of 30 inches, and while I love the infant seat for many reasons, I look forward to not having to heave and store the infant seat in the condo.

Current loves include solid food (favorites include watermelon, sweet potato fries, mango and banana), sibling bath time, the cats (he has a radar for them and stares at/follows them whenever he sees them), rolling every where.

Current nicknames Bro, Hoots, Buppa, Deedee.

Wesley's six-month stats

Stats from four days after he turned six months, post from several weeks later because Mommy's blogging time/motivation is sorely lacking:

Completely uncooperative and destructive.

 Weight: 17 pounds, 12 ouces (60th percentile)

Height: 27 3/4 inches (90th percentile)

Head: 44cm (60th percentile)

Current developments include a tooth! Actually, two! The pediatrician had been checking out his gums at his 5-month appointment and we both saw that the bottom gums were swollen. Four days later his first tooth appeared. A week later, the second had made an appearance. He handled both well - definitely had a little more drool and some increased fussiness and was a little more clingy, but nothing too crazy. He had his two front (bottom) teeth for Christmas.

Permanent drool rash on his chin, yay.

He's also been trying to sit up. We had to retire the bouncy seat and swing because he was pulling himself forward and nearly bending in half/somersaulting out. He's rolling and rolling and rolling and gives "kisses" on demand.

Not sure if this is a development or not, but I figured I should note it: His eyes are definitely brown and his hair has lightened up a lot. Elle and Tim have dark, dark brown eyes. I think Wesley's eyes are going to be lighter, more hazel, like mine. His hair is so fine and light blond that it's hard to remember how dark it was when he was born. And it's so soft :)

Current habits include nursing/taking a bottle 5-7 times a day, napping 2-3 times a day, sleep a solid stretch at night (usually sleeps 9-10 hours, then wakes to nurse, then sleeps for another 2-3 hours. If we catch him at the right time and toss him in a sleep sack, he'll usually go to sleep on his own for naps at home and *sometimes* at night. Naps when we don't catch him at the magic time and daycare naps are an entirely different (and frustrating, for me) story.

He had been drinking four bottles while I was at work, but in the last few weeks he's started sleeping a little bit later, so he nurses a little bit later and then usually only needs three bottles while I'm away. This has helped make it slightly easier to keep up with the demand, but there are definitely days when I barely make it or have to dip in to my rather small freezer stash. 

Current loves include milk, talking, baths, pulling Mommy and Daddy's hair, watching his sister, trying to grab food from people/off plates, pulling things over his head/face.

Absolutely adores all things Elle Belle.

Current nicknames Bro, Hoots, Buppa, Deedee, Warthog, Vulture Baby (because he attacks anyone close to him like this).

Breastfeeding, round II

Going in to my second pregnancy, I had no doubt that I would breastfeed. I knew it might not be easy, but I'm stubborn and figured I'd hope for the best. I decided I'd aim for the one-year mark again and hoped to follow a course similar to my breastfeeding journey with Elle.

Within days of Wesley's birth, however, I wondered if I was putting too much pressure on myself (it would not be the first time, and I'll admit right now that breastfeeding Elle for 13 months is a huge source of pride for me - I was definitely holding myself to those same standards with Wesley). Between hormones and early latch issues, the first few weeks of his life included several moments of questioning my initial goals and receiving carefully worded "permission" from my OB to give up my assumption that Wesley would receive breast milk only for the first 12 months of his life. My OB stressed the benefits that just six weeks of exclusive nursing provided to both Wesley and I. Tim and I discussed the options. And I decided to continue nursing, with a mini-goal of three months, then four months, on my horizon. (FYI: It's much easier to think about pumping for a few months rather than put a heavy "YEAR" expectation on yourself.)

Nursing Wesley has definitely gotten easier with time. At first, his initially stellar latch turned to a shallow, painful latch that had me wincing with every feeding. After my milk came in, though, it got better and continued to improve. By the time he was about a month old, I wasn't experiencing pain every time he ate, and his growth indicated that he was definitely getting enough milk.

"When's dinner, Ma?"

At about that same time, we introduced the bottle, which meant that I started pumping again. During those first few weeks, I pumped once, during the morning, on days that I had time to fit a pumping session in between his meals. It took two or three tries, but he eventually took to the bottle with no problem, and we established a good idea of how much he needed in each bottle (3-4 ounces at the time, which is now a definitive 4-preferably-4.5 ounces). I was able to freeze a small amount of milk, and when I returned to work, I planned to nurse whenever possible, pumping twice while at the office and pray that I could keep up with his demands.

Things in general are waaayyyy different this time around. When I was nursing Elle, I left for work around 3 p.m. and returned home around 1 a.m. I was lucky to be able to actually nurse her for almost every feeding except usually two, which meant I only needed to leave two bottles. I ended up with more frozen milk than I needed, and I was able to donate more than 400 ounces to other mothers in need of breast milk for their little ones. I pumped twice a day - once during my shift and once on my drive home (yes, I had quite a hook up that allowed me to pump hands-free while I drove safely, haha).

This recent photo of Elle is just to show that she's a stellar eater.

This time, I leave for work by 8 a.m. and leave at 5 p.m. I miss 3-4 feedings, so I'm trying to supply 3-4 bottles on any given day. While my supply is decent, it's still a challenge to keep up with demand. I take two pump breaks, usually one around 10:30 and the other around 2:30 p.m. Initially, I was getting just enough to keep up with Wesley's needs. But now I'm definitely short and almost always need another pump session before I go to bed to make sure he has enough for the next day. I try to freeze any extra milk that I have, but for the last several weeks, there hasn't been any extra to speak of. Things at work are getting busier, and it's getting harder for me to take the breaks - it's stressing me out to try to make sure I "schedule" them in.

I know I complained about my "pumping prison" when I nursed Elle, but that was a much better situation than my current scenario. My company is much smaller, in both number of employees and physical space. There is no place for me to pump except my car. So twice a day, I haul my stuff out to the car, pump and bring it all back inside to stow in a crowded, public fridge.

The pumping is obviously the worst part of breastfeeding right now - very annoying, time consuming, mechanical. But the actual nursing is something I will always treasure. From cuddling in the morning to taking a few minutes to sit down with the kids after a long day at work, I am the food source, but it is such an emotional experience.

Wesley is a physical eater - when he's nursing or even taking a bottle, his hands are always moving. He sometimes scratches his head, sometimes strokes your arm or - my favorite - finds and holds your fingers. As a second child, he's sometimes had to wait for a meal - he often melts down as I'm getting Elle out of the bath and just. wants. his. milk. When Elle had those moments of wanting milk NOW and having to wait, she would nurse furiously, glaring at me as tears dried in the corners of her eyes. Her reaction then is definitely an early indication of her dynamic personality today. Wesley, on the other hand. sinks in to an instant state of relaxation and relief. His eyes look grateful as he nurses, thankful that his needs were finally met. He'll often nurse to sleep at this point, likely out of pure physical and emotional exhaustion. While I'm not pleased that he gets to that point while I'm attending to Elle's needs, the balancing act often peaks with his bedtime nursing session, and it's definitely a notable one for me.

I memorized little crinkles in his ear during our first nursing sessions. I've since seen those newborn marks fade. I've stroked his hair - first short and dark blond, now longer, fluffy and light - during our nursing sessions. I've observed over and over as he has latched in the dark and gone right back to sleep during the early morning meals. I've soothed him. I've been burped and farted on, covered in spit up and kicked, scratched and pinched. While not always pleasant, the nursing sessions have always been educational and memorable.  

The nursing gymnastics have begun.
Personal space is fair game.

For personal and medical reasons (mine, not Wesley's!), as of this week I'm cutting back on the pumping sessions. Since I won't be producing as much milk, we'll be supplementing with formula. We gave him his first bottle of formula today - a day after he turned six months old. I know "feeding your baby is feeding your baby," but it's been an extremely emotional decision for me. I'm pretty passionate about breastfeeding - I will defend your right to breastfeed, support your efforts in breastfeed, encourage you to continue breastfeeding. I will sympathize with you as you nurse a teething baby, nod my head understandingly as you relate the perils of nursing a distracted and energetic infant and know exactly what you mean when you say the only thing that seemed to comfort your baby was nursing ... and nursing ... and nursing. I have loved it (not every minute of it, haha, but overall!) and hope to continue nursing Wesley for at least a few more months.

The decision was mine to make, but it's been hard to come terms with for multiple reasons. Regardless of the emotion involved, I've been contemplating introducing formula for months. I was intimidated, too, having absolutely no experience with formula, and I grilled our pediatrician at Wesley's last appointment, going over all kinds of "formula newbie" questions with her to prepare for when the time would come. I finally decided to make it to six months with exclusive breastmilk for several reasons (including all of the benefits both he and I have gotten and will have), because I knew it was a milestone for benefits, I knew it was an attainable goal and I didn't want to wait too long to introduce formula for fear of him rejecting it. (Elle was such a breast milk baby that she never took to any other milk form, and while I don't think that was an awful thing, it definitely played a role in my thought process). It's the same reason we introduced a bottle with both kids within the first few weeks, and thankfully, after six months of breast milk only, the kid hesitantly took the formula. Tim said he wasn't too thrilled about it at first and slowly drank two ounces but then sucked down another two ounces fairly quickly. I can only hope that the next few days go as smoothly and he continues cooperating.

Bananas are pretty funny.

We're also introducing solids (via Baby Led Weaning) at the same time - last night he sat with us at the dinner table in the high chair for the first time and played with some banana with his tiny, chubby hands. He wasn't too interested in eating any actual banana pieces, but he seemed to like his banana-flavored thumbs. He's been extremely interested in our plates and food for the last month and a half, and I'm excited to see how things go as he explores new textures and flavors.