Christmas Wrap-Up

Felix and I had a great first Christmas together. So many fun memories…here are the best:

• Finally getting the go-ahead to share that my brother and his wife are having a baby! They’re due in June, and I’m excited to have another niece or nephew. I’m going to teach Felix some baby-related signs before then – he’ll be 13 months old when the baby’s born.
• Seeing Felix passed out in Grandpa’s lap at church on Christmas Eve and again after opening gifts.

So many gifts, whew!

Church is exciting...zzzz....

He sleeps on grandma, too.

• Watching Felix hold his own against his 1 year old cousin, the bottle thief. He’s finally starting to stand up for himself! 

• Listening to my 6 year old niece sing to Felix when he was crying before bed. She sounded sweet, he screamed louder and then she wondered why I was laughing.
• Listening to my niece tell me how many scoops of formula are needed for the various bottle sizes as I tried to fall asleep, then hearing her whisper-shout, “It’s CHRISTMAS!"
• Hearing my sister-in-law scream when my niece brought a dead bird into the house on her new fluffy pink gloves. "What? It's a dead bird." (Grandpa is an ornithologist, to be fair.)

I shall use these hands to save birds!

• Watching the boys eat snow for the first time on Christmas Day, from Grandpa’s hand. It was so sweet seeing each of them grab a little white clump out and try to eat it before it melted.

Bonus pic of my little drummer boy.

The Elusive STTN

Anyone who frequents parenting websites knows the beloved acronym STTN - sleeping through the night. There are always the ridiculous parents who claim their children have always slept through the night (which is bad, by the way, for young infants whose survival mechanisms should be waking them to eat every few hours), but most parents struggle at least a little getting their babies to sleep all night.

Felix still hasn't slept through the night. Not once. Not even a fluke 7-hour stretch after a long day. He still eats once or twice every night, usually without opening his eyes. He wakes just enough to cry and flail until I feed him. And at 19 pounds, he is metabolically very capable of going 8 hours without food. It's just a matter of getting enough calories during waking hours.

Over the break I recorded all he ate for a few days, then tried to give him all his food between 6am and 10pm. This was our pediatrician's advice. No luck. Try as I might, he wouldn't eat those extra 10 night ounces during the day.

So last night I tried a second idea - giving him water during the night feeds, with the idea he'd wake up hungry in the morning and eat more calories during the day. But I felt bad cutting him off cold-turkey, so I gave him 2 half-strength bottles of formula instead of all water. The result: he woke up 3 times (because he was still hungry?) and totally soaked himself and his bed with pee by morning.

However, I think we're on the right track with the water. Even without calories the act of drinking a bottle seemed to be sufficient for the most part, so I hope in the next week or so we are finally STTN!

Raiding the Stash of Christmases Past

I’ve always loved wrapping gifts. When I was a student, I’d start shopping in October and save the wrapping for finals week when I felt like I was about to blow. It was my favorite way to unwind between tests, along with Super Mario Brothers and pancakes during grad school.

Many years ago I decided that every year, I’d buy a few coordinating gift wraps, bows and tags, so everything from me would match. Some years were blue and silver foil, some were old-school red and green with traditional designs, some were bright candy-like colors (and I think I attached actual candy to each gift that year.) It might sound overboard to some, but it’s always one of my favorite parts of getting ready for Christmas. I also usually buy really pretty boxed cards with foil, ornaments or glitter, etc.

This year I decided to be a bit more frugal. When I got out the Christmas box a few weeks ago, I found my big ol’ pile of unused gift wraps from previous years. Still cute, just not matching. Same deal with the tags and bows. Plenty of mix-and-match left over. I figured it would be good enough, and yes, the gifts look lovely.

When it was time to write cards to coworkers and others who don’t necessarily care about a picture of Felix and me, I grabbed the leftovers from the past few years and started matching them up with envelopes. I came across some photos and letters for the past three years. It was neat to read through my news and be reminded how quickly things changed over the past year (not that I needed a reminder…) 

Previous pictures were all of summer activities like camping or rafting, and I realized it’ll probably be years before I send another summery photo in a Christmas card – Felix changes too much between June and December! 

I’ll share with you this year’s pic (and a few others), in case you’re not on my mailing list. It’s our official portrait taken at the courthouse on National Adoption Day. You can tell I was sort of talking to Felix and squeezing his chubby leg to make get him to smile!

National Adoption Day 2012

Felix getting attention from Uncle Nate and Grandpa at his cousins' birthday party.

Hanging with Grandpa and Cousin Hayden while mom was at a Christmas party.

Dipped peppermint sticks for my coworkers.

My Turn to Chime In

As a mother, daughter of a teacher and aunt to a kindergartener, I’d like to share what I think we need to do to stop future incidents like the CT shooting. My ideas aren’t original, but let me be one more voice calling for change.

First, we need to reinstate the assault weapons ban. There is absolutely no legitimate reason for anyone to possess such a thing, and the creators of our Constitution certainly didn’t have those weapons in mind when they drafted the second amendment. This recent shooting could have been much less severe (and perhaps prevented altogether depending on which weapon he used to shoot his way into the school) if the shooter hadn’t had access to semi-automatic weapons.

Second, we need to improve our mental health services. Many troubled kids lose eligibility for help when they turn 18, and even most insured adults don’t have coverage for anything considered “mental health”, from mild anxiety to full-blown psychosis or schizophrenia.

Third, the media needs to stop. Stop making us relive the horror every hour of every day on every program. Stop asking scared children to describe the gunshots. Stop turning these killers into sick heroes by letting them go out famous, in a blaze of glory. What is appropriate? Report there was a shooting, honor the dead, and move on. We don’t need to know the killer’s name, see his face or discuss for days on end what he might have been thinking.

I feel strongly that more guns are not the answer.

 

Seven Months

Bedtime snuggles before Monica is gently escorted
into the hallway for the night.

The last month really flew by, as I suspected it would. Felix had a well baby checkup yesterday and I was surprised to learn he’s gone from the 19^th percentile for height to the 59^th percentile! I’ve heard babies alternate growing out, then up, then out again, so we’ll see where he lands at his next appointment in March. His head size still ranks 95^th percentile, just like his cousins.

And it’s probably silly, but I’m pretty proud of myself for having such a healthy boy who’s growing so well. I’m not doing anything out of the ordinary, so I probably can’t take much credit for it, but it still makes me happy to hear the doctor rave about his progress. He army crawled all over the exam table and shredded the tissue paper while we talked.

Earlier this week at daycare he made an adorable handprint Santa Christmas ornament – my very first “To Mommy, From Felix” gift. It will be so cute to hang it on the tree every year and remember how small his hands were on his first Christmas.

We have more swimming lessons, Christmas parties and a double birthday party this weekend for my niece and nephew. Of course I’ve volunteered to bake for all of it. It’ll be busy and I hope I can remember to stop and smell the roses (or swirl the wine, if you will.) There’s no bigger bummer than realizing on Sunday night that you don’t remember anything about the weekend because it went so fast!

I destroy your table!

Swimming, Peas and More

Hard to believe Felix will be 7 months in about a week! He now sits very well on his own, can move into tummy position (sort of gracefully) and tries to push up on all fours. His army crawl and rotation skills are pretty good, so he gets around the living room no problem.

He loves green beans and likes all other veggies, but doesn't care for bananas, peaches or apples. His favorite toys include a colander, lids of all types, and tags of all types.

Last weekend we started swimming lessons. He started out quiet and observant and ended the class squawking with delight. Thanks to Groupon we have 3 more lessons to go (and only paid $25!)

We also got a second chance at Santa pics earlier this week, when our Meetup hosted a Christmas party and book exchange. We were given a very nice copy of 'Twas the Night Before Christmas, and I ate way more than my share of cheese ball and macaroons. I had two more get-togethers yesterday and I'm hosting a big one this weekend...well, big for my 1,000 sq. ft. townhouse. Saturday will be nothing but cleaning and baking.

It's been oddly warm here, pushing 60 degrees many days. I'm okay with it, but it's no good for our local ski resorts, so I try to "think snow" for them!

Coffee Mug Wisdom

We had a number of cliche coffee mugs when I was a little girl, and some of the phrases really stuck with me. One featured an orange cat diving into a field of flowers, and the caption read simply, "Jim Dives." I thought the whole thing was pretty random, but whatev. (Looking back, I realize it was Garfield and the "caption" was the illustrator's name, Jim Davis.)

Another said, "I can bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan...I never do, but I can." What's the point of announcing to the world you never buy bacon? I wondered all through elementary school.

A third said, "I'd quit my job, but it's the only rest I get." I understood that one, but totally didn't get it. How could work be rest? And what kind of bitter, resentful person enjoyed leaving their house and family to go work instead?

Oh, silly young me. Silly me who had never spent 6 days being sick and caring for a sick baby. Let me say that we've had it no worse than anyone else, but that doesn't take away the suckiness of this past week. I very much look forward to being back in the office tomorrow, while mostly-better Felix gets a change of scenery with his daycare friends.

I thought I was pretty well recovered by Thanksgiving, but laryngitis and coughing fits started Friday. Obviously I can take meds, but my best remedy for Felix was distraction, which meant 4 hours of shopping on Black Friday and another 4 hours outside/downtown at local shops on Saturday. The activity kept him happy and the cool air kept him breathing well, but I was eking out the last smidges of energy I had both days. And I hardly bought anything.

Today we went to another event downtown and he was pretty snotty (literally, of course) and miserable most of the day. To get him to drink a bottle, I have to put saline drops in his nose (which he dislikes), then use a snot sucker a few minutes later (which he hates and screams to let me know it). That's followed by me gently holding the bottle in his screaming mouth until he accidentally drinks a little, at which point he realizes he can breathe through his nose, chugs the whole thing and falls asleep.

Picture of a picture: Felix and his cousins seeing Santa at the Festival of Trees today.

Our only saving grace has been sleep at night. Despite all the misery, my little guy is still a great sleeper. And tonight he played happily on his own for 2 hours, so there's light at the end of the tunnel!



 

Thankful (and Not)

Lots of my friends do the Thanksgiving Facebook thing where every day they post something they're thankful for. I don't do it because I totally judge some people for what they post (half joking) and figure they'd do the same to me. (Should one be publicly thankful for alcoholic breakfast drinks? That's a common one.)

Anyway, yesterday I finally got sick for the first time post-Felix. And I mean sick. I left work around 1 and ended up with a 103 fever before I asked my mom to take me to urgent care. (Take Advil and stay hydrated, doc said.) My dad picked up Felix from daycare and played with him all night till I was well enough to head home with him. My parents fed us and entertained us and I even got to eat the first lefse of the season. Thankful!

I'm much better today, but when Felix slept in 2 1/2 hours longer than usual, I knew he might have caught it. He's been a bit feverish all day, but surprisingly easy to keep content.

Trimmed a little above the ears and snipped
the crazy long hairs off the top for his baby
book - he was born with those. I think anyone in
a boy band would kill for hair like his.

As is typical for someone in recovery mode, I've had bursts of energy throughout the day, followed by massive headaches. During those bursts of energy I cleaned the kitchen, gave Felix his first haircut and made a new gingerbread truffle recipe, which leads us to the "not thankful" portion of this blog.

I am NOT thankful for gorgeous blogs with simple, delicious-sounding recipes that turn out to be disasters. I knew going into the truffles that the proportions sounded off, but even with significant adjustments (I quadrupled the main dry ingredient, gingerbread cookies), they turned out like sticky blobs of raw cookie dough. Absolutely disgusting. I left a comment on the blog, but I doubt the author will choose to publish it. I think I'll have to swear off blog recipes from now on - this happens too often. "Here's a beautiful photo! Quick, someone make up a recipe to go with it." (First world problems, I know.)

Don't let the photography fool you.

Anyway, I hope you're all having a nice Thanksgiving week! If I'm 100% tomorrow, I'm going to treat myself to a gingerbread latte.