Weston is four months old today and suddenly, he seems big. (This might have something to do with the fact that he's asleep in my lap right now, wearing 12-month pajamas. Pajamas that I distinctly remember Luke wearing while he was LEARNING TO WALK.)
This month, we've had a stream of visitors--first, my mom, then, McMoose's mom and nephew. Weston has heartily enjoyed getting to meet all the new people. He is showing himself to be a people person, as he lights up with joy every time someone talks to or plays with him. And because his reaction is so rewarding, people are constantly talking to and playing with him. He smiles and laughs at everyone and chatters and squeals when McMoose and I play with him.
He is starting to tolerate being put down on the floor for short periods of time, so I'm remembering what it's like to do things with two hands. He still prefers to be held most of the time though, including when he's asleep--apparently, non-human surfaces are just not comfy enough for his royal highness. Given how quickly his babyhood is flying past, I don't begrudge him the holding. (Well. Most of the time. Sometimes, I'd really like to sweep the floor.)
Lately, he has been watching us eat with great interest. Hm. Let me rephrase that. Lately, he has been yelling at us and flailing his arms and attempting to grab every bit of food we're eating. Last week, I had him on my hip and I was holding a plum in my hand while trying to hustle Luke out the door and the next thing I knew, there was a baby on my plum. They're supposed to still have the tongue-thrust reflex, which should keep them from eating any food yet, but I'm pretty certain that there was no tongue-thrusting going on. There was, however, a whole lot of gnawing on the plum and I'm pretty sure he actually chewed off a piece and swallowed it in the 10 seconds or so it took until I realized what he was doing. And earlier today, I had him on my lap while eating a sandwich and he very speedily grabbed the bread off the top of my sandwich and attempted to stuff it into his mouth. These next two months until he's "allowed" to have solids are going to seem very long, I fear.
As interested as he is in food and people, it surprises me that he is completely uninterested in toys. I hand him some rings to play with and the grimaces and lets go of them. I dangle a stuffed elephant above him and he ignores it completely, reaching for my face instead. I shake a rattle at him and he yells at me. (In retrospect, knowing how negatively he feels about loud noises, I should have known better than to try to introduce him to a rattle.)
You know what he IS interested in? The TV. The other day, I lay him on the floor, facing away from the TV and he rolled and twisted and turned and scooted himself around until he could see the TV. We don't watch TV very often, but I'd be lying if I said I hadn't considered turning it on just to pacify Weston during one of his grouchy, nap-less days.
He still loves baths and is figuring out how to sit up in his baby bathtub. In fact, he's trying to figure out how to sit up on dry land, too. I kind of think that his enormous cloth diapers prevent him from doing it as well as he otherwise might.
We're all enjoying his emerging personality and judging by his responses to us, I think he's quite enjoying us, as well.
(Pictures to come shortly.)
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Luke Says...
The other day, Weston started fussing in the car and Luke, in a very sweet and concerned voice, said the following: "What's wrong, Weston? What's wrong, baby? Do you think we're going to put you in the trash can? Are we going to put you in the trash truck and let it eat you? No. We aren't. We're going to feed you instead, Mama said. So STOP CRYING!" Dude. If I were Weston, I'd be crying too!
And yesterday, we were at a La Leche League meeting. For reference, the last time we attended a meeting, I promised Luke we could go to Quizno's for lunch, but then I'd forgotten to bring my wallet, so we had to go home instead. Apparently, he remembered that:
Luke: Mama. This is a "Yeyeyeye Yeague" meeting.
Me, chuckling at his pronunciation: Yes, it is.
Luke: Remember the other day? At the Yeyeyeye Yeague meeting? We were going to go to Quizno's.
Me: Yes, I remember. But I forgot my wallet, so we couldn't go. That was disappointing, wasn't it?
Luke: Yes. Did you bring your wallet today?
Me: Yes, I did.
Luke: Good job, Mama! That means we can go to Quizno's today! I'm going to have some chips there. Are you?
And he now likes to play pretend. He also likes to call all the shots:
Luke: I'm going to be a bear!
Me: Oh, my! There's a bear in here!
Luke: No, no, no. Don't say that. You say, "Ack! A scary bear!"
Me: Ok. Ack, a scary bear!
Luke: Rarrr!!! Now Weston, you run away and say, "Help! A bear is chasing me!"
And yesterday, I gave Weston a toy elephant, which Luke really, really wanted to take from him:
Me: Luke, you may not take this toy from him.
Luke: I'm not. Weston. That toy makes a sound. You want me to show you? If you hand it to me, I can show you the sound. It's very cute. Want to see? Weston. Weston? Can you hand it to me? It's a really nice sound, Weston, I'll show you. *Looks at me. Looks back at the toy. Looks at me again and sighs.* Ok, then. He doesn't want to hear the sound.
And yesterday, we were at a La Leche League meeting. For reference, the last time we attended a meeting, I promised Luke we could go to Quizno's for lunch, but then I'd forgotten to bring my wallet, so we had to go home instead. Apparently, he remembered that:
Luke: Mama. This is a "Yeyeyeye Yeague" meeting.
Me, chuckling at his pronunciation: Yes, it is.
Luke: Remember the other day? At the Yeyeyeye Yeague meeting? We were going to go to Quizno's.
Me: Yes, I remember. But I forgot my wallet, so we couldn't go. That was disappointing, wasn't it?
Luke: Yes. Did you bring your wallet today?
Me: Yes, I did.
Luke: Good job, Mama! That means we can go to Quizno's today! I'm going to have some chips there. Are you?
And he now likes to play pretend. He also likes to call all the shots:
Luke: I'm going to be a bear!
Me: Oh, my! There's a bear in here!
Luke: No, no, no. Don't say that. You say, "Ack! A scary bear!"
Me: Ok. Ack, a scary bear!
Luke: Rarrr!!! Now Weston, you run away and say, "Help! A bear is chasing me!"
And yesterday, I gave Weston a toy elephant, which Luke really, really wanted to take from him:
Me: Luke, you may not take this toy from him.
Luke: I'm not. Weston. That toy makes a sound. You want me to show you? If you hand it to me, I can show you the sound. It's very cute. Want to see? Weston. Weston? Can you hand it to me? It's a really nice sound, Weston, I'll show you. *Looks at me. Looks back at the toy. Looks at me again and sighs.* Ok, then. He doesn't want to hear the sound.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Got Milk? (No.)
Sometimes, I feel like dairy intolerance is the story of my life.
Apparently, I had a dairy allergy as a child, as a result of which I ended up drinking some vile, soy stuff until I was three.
Luke had a dairy allergy, too. When he was tiny and grouchy, I cut milk and cheese and yogurt out of my diet and it improved the grouchiness to a certain degree. And then, when he was old enough to eat table food, he reacted to yogurt and milk, but was always okay with cheese and butter, oddly enough. So we avoided yogurt and milk until after he was potty trained and now, he does fine with dairy, though he does still regularly inform me that he likes ALMOND milk, not COW milk.
Weston. Oh, Weston. He has had issues with reflux almost since birth. I knew that reflux is common in babies with dairy allergies, so I cut down on my dairy intake. I played around with giving up milk, giving up yogurt, cutting down on cheese. None of it helped, not really. So I assumed it wasn't a dairy allergy after all, that he was just refluxy.
And then, at about 2 months, his skin started getting rashy and scaly and just overly sensitive. Red flag. Another sign of a food intolerance. At this point, I knew that I really SHOULD give up dairy altogether, but oh, that's such a difficult proposition. So I discussed it with his pediatrician and decided that as long as he was gaining weight and acting happy, I wouldn't worry about it.
And then, his weight gain started slowing down. Now, mind you, the child is still huge for his age, but my biggest baby-fear is to have to re-experience the low weight gain-low milk supply awfulness that we went through with Luke, so I decided to get serious about cutting out dairy.
Except. Do you KNOW what that means? No milk, no yogurt, no cheese. Obviously. No sour cream or cream cheese. Okay. No butter or regular margarine. A bit trickier, but still doable, especially since there are vegan margarines available that don't have any milk protein in them. But. BUT. Then, you have to start reading labels, and when you do, you realize that milk products are used in EVERYTHING. Bread. Salad dressing. Every prepared food ever, except for the ones that are specifically vegan. I mean, even our regular pasta sauce had lactic acid in it, for crying out loud. Pasta. Sauce.
We enjoy eating out at restaurants, but every time we do, even when I scour the allergen menu and order (tasteless, bland) things that the restaurant claims is dairy free, it sets off Weston's reflux again. The other day, I carefully chose my meal, but then absentmindedly picked up a piece of broccoli from Luke's plate and ate it...and then realized, a second too late, that it had been seasoned with butter. Weston spit up for a full 24 hours because of that.
The thing is, in general, his reflux is getting so much better. I mean, the fact that I can even say, "He spit up for 24 hours because of some broccoli," means that in general, he's not spitting up constantly, which he was for the first three months of his life. There's improvement, I know. But oh, when that improvement means that I can't have chocolate--not even a tiny taste--or a chai latte or a piece of cake or pizza or ice cream, it's frustrating.
Worse still: what if he continues to be this sensitive to dairy as he grows? What will that mean for us, in the future? Will we have to structure our lives around avoiding dairy forever? (Oh, please, no!) So much of what I feed Luke has dairy in it--how am I going to avoid those same foods when Weston is old enough to eat them?
On the slightly plus side, what this does mean is that I can have all the soda I want. Because (a) I've had to give up every OTHER beverage that brings me joy and (b) my goal has now gone from weight loss to weight maintenance. Since such a large portion of the calories and fat in my diet came from dairy rich foods, I've lost a good eight pounds in the past two weeks. Not really recommended while breastfeeding, so here I am, sipping a glass of Pepsi and wishing it were hot chocolate instead.
Apparently, I had a dairy allergy as a child, as a result of which I ended up drinking some vile, soy stuff until I was three.
Luke had a dairy allergy, too. When he was tiny and grouchy, I cut milk and cheese and yogurt out of my diet and it improved the grouchiness to a certain degree. And then, when he was old enough to eat table food, he reacted to yogurt and milk, but was always okay with cheese and butter, oddly enough. So we avoided yogurt and milk until after he was potty trained and now, he does fine with dairy, though he does still regularly inform me that he likes ALMOND milk, not COW milk.
Weston. Oh, Weston. He has had issues with reflux almost since birth. I knew that reflux is common in babies with dairy allergies, so I cut down on my dairy intake. I played around with giving up milk, giving up yogurt, cutting down on cheese. None of it helped, not really. So I assumed it wasn't a dairy allergy after all, that he was just refluxy.
And then, at about 2 months, his skin started getting rashy and scaly and just overly sensitive. Red flag. Another sign of a food intolerance. At this point, I knew that I really SHOULD give up dairy altogether, but oh, that's such a difficult proposition. So I discussed it with his pediatrician and decided that as long as he was gaining weight and acting happy, I wouldn't worry about it.
And then, his weight gain started slowing down. Now, mind you, the child is still huge for his age, but my biggest baby-fear is to have to re-experience the low weight gain-low milk supply awfulness that we went through with Luke, so I decided to get serious about cutting out dairy.
Except. Do you KNOW what that means? No milk, no yogurt, no cheese. Obviously. No sour cream or cream cheese. Okay. No butter or regular margarine. A bit trickier, but still doable, especially since there are vegan margarines available that don't have any milk protein in them. But. BUT. Then, you have to start reading labels, and when you do, you realize that milk products are used in EVERYTHING. Bread. Salad dressing. Every prepared food ever, except for the ones that are specifically vegan. I mean, even our regular pasta sauce had lactic acid in it, for crying out loud. Pasta. Sauce.
We enjoy eating out at restaurants, but every time we do, even when I scour the allergen menu and order (tasteless, bland) things that the restaurant claims is dairy free, it sets off Weston's reflux again. The other day, I carefully chose my meal, but then absentmindedly picked up a piece of broccoli from Luke's plate and ate it...and then realized, a second too late, that it had been seasoned with butter. Weston spit up for a full 24 hours because of that.
The thing is, in general, his reflux is getting so much better. I mean, the fact that I can even say, "He spit up for 24 hours because of some broccoli," means that in general, he's not spitting up constantly, which he was for the first three months of his life. There's improvement, I know. But oh, when that improvement means that I can't have chocolate--not even a tiny taste--or a chai latte or a piece of cake or pizza or ice cream, it's frustrating.
Worse still: what if he continues to be this sensitive to dairy as he grows? What will that mean for us, in the future? Will we have to structure our lives around avoiding dairy forever? (Oh, please, no!) So much of what I feed Luke has dairy in it--how am I going to avoid those same foods when Weston is old enough to eat them?
On the slightly plus side, what this does mean is that I can have all the soda I want. Because (a) I've had to give up every OTHER beverage that brings me joy and (b) my goal has now gone from weight loss to weight maintenance. Since such a large portion of the calories and fat in my diet came from dairy rich foods, I've lost a good eight pounds in the past two weeks. Not really recommended while breastfeeding, so here I am, sipping a glass of Pepsi and wishing it were hot chocolate instead.
Monday, November 7, 2011
Moments to Preserve
McMoose got some video of each of the boys the other day, so I thought I'd share.
This first one is of Luke. Every year, we troll the post-Halloween sales for cheap costumes to add to Luke's dress-up box, and one of the things we couldn't pass up this year was this airplane costume. Of course, Luke had to wear it out of the store. McMoose taught him how to hold the wings up and "fly," and Luke got such joy out of it. It was one of those moments that I wish I could re-live over and over...I guess a video is the next best thing! (Be warned, it's pretty dark and hard to see.)
This next one is of Weston laughing later that same evening. McMoose was on the other side of the camera, sticking his tongue out, which is apparently hilarious if you're 3 months old. He was actually laughing a lot more before we pulled the camera out, at which point, he got his trademark worried look, so it's a testament to McMoose's tongue-sticking-out abilities that Weston was laughing at all.
This first one is of Luke. Every year, we troll the post-Halloween sales for cheap costumes to add to Luke's dress-up box, and one of the things we couldn't pass up this year was this airplane costume. Of course, Luke had to wear it out of the store. McMoose taught him how to hold the wings up and "fly," and Luke got such joy out of it. It was one of those moments that I wish I could re-live over and over...I guess a video is the next best thing! (Be warned, it's pretty dark and hard to see.)
This next one is of Weston laughing later that same evening. McMoose was on the other side of the camera, sticking his tongue out, which is apparently hilarious if you're 3 months old. He was actually laughing a lot more before we pulled the camera out, at which point, he got his trademark worried look, so it's a testament to McMoose's tongue-sticking-out abilities that Weston was laughing at all.
Friday, November 4, 2011
In Need Of Mischief
Luke has always been a really compliant toddler. When we're out in public, I rarely have to ask him to do something more than once. But lately, it looks more like anxiety than compliance.
Mind you, we have never given him cause to be anxious. We've never spanked him. We've never done the one-minute-per-year-of-age type time out. (In fact, "time out" for us tends to be, "Luke, do you need to come sit with me for a minute?") We try really, really hard not to yell or talk to him disrespectfully.
And yet, earlier today, we were at the food court at the mall and he pushed the stroller away from the table with his feet and I said, "Um..." And that was all it took for him to stop doing it, turn to me with a contrite look on his face, and say, "I'm sorry, Mama. I didn't mean to do that."
Dude. Seriously? You're two. You're supposed to be all kinds of unmanageable. (And to be fair, he does have his moments, but most of that stems from (a) resisting naps or (b) moving at the pace of molasses and being annoyed that I'm rushing him.)
I mean, his favorite activity at the toddler classes we've taken is...cleaning up at the end. I'm used to spirited, rowdy toddlers. I'm not entirely sure how to handle one who's so eager to please that if someone else looks like they might be slightly interested in a toy he has, he puts it down instantly instead of facing the (remote) possibility of a conflict.
Mind you, we have never given him cause to be anxious. We've never spanked him. We've never done the one-minute-per-year-of-age type time out. (In fact, "time out" for us tends to be, "Luke, do you need to come sit with me for a minute?") We try really, really hard not to yell or talk to him disrespectfully.
And yet, earlier today, we were at the food court at the mall and he pushed the stroller away from the table with his feet and I said, "Um..." And that was all it took for him to stop doing it, turn to me with a contrite look on his face, and say, "I'm sorry, Mama. I didn't mean to do that."
Dude. Seriously? You're two. You're supposed to be all kinds of unmanageable. (And to be fair, he does have his moments, but most of that stems from (a) resisting naps or (b) moving at the pace of molasses and being annoyed that I'm rushing him.)
I mean, his favorite activity at the toddler classes we've taken is...cleaning up at the end. I'm used to spirited, rowdy toddlers. I'm not entirely sure how to handle one who's so eager to please that if someone else looks like they might be slightly interested in a toy he has, he puts it down instantly instead of facing the (remote) possibility of a conflict.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
We've been uncharacteristically reclusive this week because the kids have been sick. Normally, that would just mean that we'd be doing solo, outdoorsy things so as not to expose anyone else to our illness, but right now, it's just slightly too chilly in the mornings, especially with both of them not feeling well.
Of course, we can't be entirely housebound because the first question Luke asks me each morning is, "Where are we going today?" and when I tell him that we're staying home, his little face gets so sad. So instead, we've been taking lots of walks around the neighborhood. Yesterday morning, we went to watch the construction trucks that are building...something...behind our neighborhood. Yesterday afternoon, we wandered aimlessly in search of a squirrel. And this morning, we decided to walk to the grocery store to buy some bananas and honey. (Can I just say how much I LOVE the fact that we're within walking distance to a grocery store?)
But apparently, I've completely forgotten the fine art of getting two kids ready and out of the house in any timely fashion because here was our morning:
5:15 am - 8:45 am: Pat a coughing, snorting baby so that he'd stay asleep.
8:45 am: fall back asleep.
9:02 am: McMoose shepherds Luke into the bedroom so he can start working.
9:03 am: Luke says, "Where are we going today?" And because I had been thinking about that very issue from 5:15 am to 8:45 am, I reply, "We're going to walk to Food Lion to buy bananas and honey." To see his excitement, you'd think I had told him we were going to Disney World.
9:05-9:30 am: Get myself and Weston dressed and ready. Tell Luke to pick out some clothes and get dressed.
9:30 am: Fold a load of laundry while Luke chatters about how we're going to FOOD LION to buy BANANAS and HONEY and OH BOY, FOOD LION! (Meanwhile, he's still in his pajamas. Normally, I would have gotten him dressed after asking the first time, but I had decided we were going to have a relaxed, leisurely morning. Ha!)
9:50 am: Tell Luke that he needs to go potty and GET DRESSED before we can go.
10 am: Verbally help Luke put his clothes on because when I offered physical assistance, he informed me that he was going to do it all by himself.
10:05 am: Decide that I should feed Weston before we go because Luke was still trying to figure out how exactly to get his underwear on.
10:15 am: Look for my wallet in the diaper bag. It's not in there. Look in the car. Not there. Look every place I can think of. Not there. Run upstairs to ask McMoose if he knows where it is. He doesn't. Run back downstairs and look in one of the same places where I JUST LOOKED and there it is. Of course.
10:20: Leave the house. Walk down the street. Chat with Luke about the man mowing his lawn.
10:25: We get to a gravelly part of the path and Luke says, "Ouchie! I need my shoes!" I look down and sure enough, we had forgotten the child's shoes. And he walked ALL THE WAY DOWN THE STREET before saying anything about it.
It's a wonder we ever manage to get out of this house.
Of course, we can't be entirely housebound because the first question Luke asks me each morning is, "Where are we going today?" and when I tell him that we're staying home, his little face gets so sad. So instead, we've been taking lots of walks around the neighborhood. Yesterday morning, we went to watch the construction trucks that are building...something...behind our neighborhood. Yesterday afternoon, we wandered aimlessly in search of a squirrel. And this morning, we decided to walk to the grocery store to buy some bananas and honey. (Can I just say how much I LOVE the fact that we're within walking distance to a grocery store?)
But apparently, I've completely forgotten the fine art of getting two kids ready and out of the house in any timely fashion because here was our morning:
5:15 am - 8:45 am: Pat a coughing, snorting baby so that he'd stay asleep.
8:45 am: fall back asleep.
9:02 am: McMoose shepherds Luke into the bedroom so he can start working.
9:03 am: Luke says, "Where are we going today?" And because I had been thinking about that very issue from 5:15 am to 8:45 am, I reply, "We're going to walk to Food Lion to buy bananas and honey." To see his excitement, you'd think I had told him we were going to Disney World.
9:05-9:30 am: Get myself and Weston dressed and ready. Tell Luke to pick out some clothes and get dressed.
9:30 am: Fold a load of laundry while Luke chatters about how we're going to FOOD LION to buy BANANAS and HONEY and OH BOY, FOOD LION! (Meanwhile, he's still in his pajamas. Normally, I would have gotten him dressed after asking the first time, but I had decided we were going to have a relaxed, leisurely morning. Ha!)
9:50 am: Tell Luke that he needs to go potty and GET DRESSED before we can go.
10 am: Verbally help Luke put his clothes on because when I offered physical assistance, he informed me that he was going to do it all by himself.
10:05 am: Decide that I should feed Weston before we go because Luke was still trying to figure out how exactly to get his underwear on.
10:15 am: Look for my wallet in the diaper bag. It's not in there. Look in the car. Not there. Look every place I can think of. Not there. Run upstairs to ask McMoose if he knows where it is. He doesn't. Run back downstairs and look in one of the same places where I JUST LOOKED and there it is. Of course.
10:20: Leave the house. Walk down the street. Chat with Luke about the man mowing his lawn.
10:25: We get to a gravelly part of the path and Luke says, "Ouchie! I need my shoes!" I look down and sure enough, we had forgotten the child's shoes. And he walked ALL THE WAY DOWN THE STREET before saying anything about it.
It's a wonder we ever manage to get out of this house.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Attention Must Be Paid!
Luke is napping and Weston is not--which is a combination that never, ever happens--so I thought I'd sit here on the floor and write a blog post. So I put Weston on the floor beside me and for the last ten minutes, I've been sitting here with my computer. And not writing a word. Why, you ask? Because Weston now laughs.
And it's addicting, that laugh. I mean, it's HARD to make this kid laugh. I have a few tricks up my sleeve and I've been rotating through them, instead of writing. And every time I stop paying attention to him, this scene repeats itself:
Weston: Waah.
Me: What's the matter?
Weston: *Grin*
Me: Aww, look at your smile! Are you smiling?
Weston: *Coo*
Me: *Kiss his fat cheeks*
Weston: *Grabs my hair and waves it around*
Me: Ouch! Hey, you! Let go!
Weston: *Grin*
Me: I'm gonna eat you up! *Pretend to eat his face*
Weston: *Starts biting my chin/nose/whatever else is within his range*
I remember now how much I love three-month-olds. I also remember that from the time Luke was three months until he was over a year old, I never got ANYTHING done because every time I'd start something, I'd get distracted by the cute baby. Something tells me that history is about to repeat itself.
And it's addicting, that laugh. I mean, it's HARD to make this kid laugh. I have a few tricks up my sleeve and I've been rotating through them, instead of writing. And every time I stop paying attention to him, this scene repeats itself:
Weston: Waah.
Me: What's the matter?
Weston: *Grin*
Me: Aww, look at your smile! Are you smiling?
Weston: *Coo*
Me: *Kiss his fat cheeks*
Weston: *Grabs my hair and waves it around*
Me: Ouch! Hey, you! Let go!
Weston: *Grin*
Me: I'm gonna eat you up! *Pretend to eat his face*
Weston: *Starts biting my chin/nose/whatever else is within his range*
I remember now how much I love three-month-olds. I also remember that from the time Luke was three months until he was over a year old, I never got ANYTHING done because every time I'd start something, I'd get distracted by the cute baby. Something tells me that history is about to repeat itself.
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