Happy Mother's Day To Me

Ages ago, back in May, John asked me what I wanted for Mother's Day. Well, I wanted a good picture of me and my baby, to go in the bottom slot of a picture frame that is hanging on the wall. Taken before the baby is no longer a baby. We didn't get that done in a timely fashion. So when John asked me what I wanted for my birthday I said "You know, sweetie, what I would really like is a Mother's Day present, pretty please with sugar on top." Or, maybe, it kind of came out more like "How 'bout a goddamn Mother's Day present, you big slacker. Grrrr."

So we set a photo shoot time, so I could actually brush my hair and wear spit-up free clothes, and could dress the boy in something more than a diaper. Dex and I were prepared. We were cute. We were ready to go. We were just waiting for Dad. And then Dad was late coming home...

So we got started without Dad, and did our own photo shoot of sorts. Hooray for a tripod. I need a remote for the camera, though. Lugging that child over to the camera after every shot to press the shutter button again? Tiresome. I was hot and sweaty by the time we were done. Here's what came out of it. Not terrible, considering.

Testing, testing. Is the baby cute enough?
Not terrible, for a serious baby

We moved outside and got a little of this:

And then donned our ball caps for a good Hokie photo:


Then Dad got home, and we could finally get some smiles out of the child. So we got a few good photos:
(Not really a candidate for printing. I just love how his little toes curl when I toss him in to the air)

The problem is knowing which photo to print and put on the wall. So - help John out. Tell him which one you think he should pick, print, and put in the picture frame. I'm not going to decide - it is, after all, my PRESENT. I shouldn't have to do all the work!

Things I Wonder

I wonder if I can get a solar cover for a kiddie pool. Or a pool heater?
I wonder why the sock companies bother making socks for babies that don't even pretend to stay on their feet for longer than 2.5 seconds.
I wonder how it is that I have managed to get within 3 pounds of my pre-pregnancy weight, and yet none of my pre-pregnancy pants fit. Nor do the shirts, but I am blaming the gimormous rack for that one.

I wonder how badly Jillian Michaels' "30 Day shred" DVD is going to kick my ass when it arrives from Netflix. I am guessing, based on reviews I have read, pretty badly.

I wonder how long the baby can hang out and sing to himself in his crib before he decides that maybe it'd be cool to go back to sleep. Answer: A pretty long time...

I wonder where Dexter picked up this most recent cold that has made him all sneezey and snuffly. My guess would be from our Friday playdate, as all the other babies there seem to have come down with colds, too.

This was after Dexter sat up next to his friend Henry, reached over to say hi, and proceeded to gouge out Henry's eyes. Way to be social, Dex.

I wonder what we might have for lunch in the fridge?

I wonder if I am pushing the baby too hard with his oatmeal. The first day he ate it he seemed to love it. The next two days, not so much. He does love the spoon, though.

Update - oatmeal went much better today. Dexter seems to like his oatmeal thicker. And don't even THINK of sticking that spoon in my mouth, Mom. I can damn well do it by myself!

I wonder why it's been perfect, not humid, lovely weather all summer. And then on Thursday, when I am going to Virginia to spend a day at a park (which is decidedly OUTSIDE) it's going to be 90 degrees and humid. Thanks, weather. Thanks a lot.

I wonder why I forgot about the classical station on XM for so many months. I just turned it on again today, and it rocks. Well, not literally rocks, as it's classical. But, still. Good stuff.

I wonder how the baby got a cut on the end of his tongue. It certainly wasn't from biting it. Unless it was from biting it with his gums.

I wonder if I can get the couch cushion covers dried out enough to take a nap on them this afternoon.

I wonder if I can fit myself in to own pants before my sister goes and gets all skinny again and wants her pants back. The race is on, girl. Bring it. I've got Jillian Michaels, walking with a baby in a backpack, and walking with Christie. Plus a diet of cookie dough and beer. And breastfeeding. What have you got?

I wonder how long it will take me to re-learn how to walk up stairs in such a way that doesn't hurt my knees. Also, I wonder why nobody ever told me that walking up the stairs the way I do will make your knees hurt, moron.

I wonder if this kid could get any cuter.

Remember How I Said I'd Post a Video?

Remember that? Months ago? How I said that I'd post a video of Dexter sitting in his Bumbo, chatting away to himself? Well, yeah - this isn't that.

But, regardless, it's cute. Little chronicle of what Dexter has been doing the past week - we've been doing all kinds of fun new stuff!

Celebrating the Fourth

We had a heck of a good July 4th weekend, filled with family, friends, walks, and swimming. And we made a trip to New York, with a baby, and didn't die! Amazing. PLUS, we fit everything in to the car and didn't even have to tie the dog to the roof. Bonus for CoCo. She's not a big fan of being tied to the roof.

John started the weekend off right with a walk with Dex in the Baby Bjorn. This was close to the last walk with this thing, because now we have...
Taa-daa!! A brand new (well, new to us) Kelty backpack. It is DA BOMB. Way easier on my shoulders during our daily morning walks around the neighborhood. And it will rock when we go to the Adirondacks in August.

We spent Friday playing in the Zukor's back yard, with our friends Dave and Becky who were in town from Florida.

This little monkey is going to be one heck of a babysitter in about three months...
The lounging sisters
John is WAY more fun to climb on than say, oh, the swingset three feet away from you...
Dave's "Bring It" stance
In another life, Joey was a Storm Trooper
Awww. Isn't that sweet. We'll forgive you, Dex, for cuddling with the Tennessee Volunteers shirt. THIS TIME. Next time, though, all bets are off. No cuddling with rival schools!
Splashing in the kiddie pool was WAY fun. And just a precursor to what was to come all weekend!

Friday night we made the drive to New York. An evening of new experiences for Dex, including his first time nursing in the car, and his first diaper change at a truck stop. Sweet! Also, Oreo Frostys from Wendy's are super yummy. For Mom. Not for Dex.

Dex seems to be enjoying his first dip in to Grandma and Grandpa's pool. Also, wow do I really need to work out and try to become some shape other than round. Fortunately, the really scary part, my thighs, are mostly underwater here.
Woo-hoo! Check it out, Dad! I caught a ring!
The matching hat boys
Grandma made this face and cool bubbles came out of the water. Why doesn't it work for me?
Hey, we start em young in the Cowan household...
Generations. Crazy. Except for Dex, we all have the same nose.

We drove home during the day on Monday, which went really well til we got about ten miles from home and Dexter started crying. He'd had enough of his car seat, thankyouverymuch. After all that swimming in nice cool, big, fun pools, we came home to this:

Hey, it's not as cool as the Zukor's baby pool, but Mom couldn't find a hard-sided one. And it certainly isn't as cool as Grandma and Grandpa's pool. But my craptastic ghetto-pool is awesome. For another couple uses. Til it springs a leak.

Five Months Old, Five Trillion Photos

Good Lord, but that took a long time. I was taking pictures on Dexter's five month birthday, trying to get a good shot for the monthly picture frame that Grandma got for him. I did get a decent shot, but I had to wade through a bunch of crap to get it. Shots like this:

Maybe you should try centering the subject in the shot...

Or this:
Although you DO look exactly like Grandma in the morning in this shot...

Or this:
With the crazy googly eyes...

Or this:
WOW. Nuff said...

I should have stopped right about when I started, because here was the very first shot I took:
Slight tilt to the head, looking very dapper.

And this one was pretty cute, too:
I'm cute when I giggle...

Here's some other stuff we've been up to these days:
Watching cars, our favorite pastime. When we buy a new house we'll have to look for one with a back deck overlooking a road...

Coming pretty close to sitting up by himself at volleyball

While Dad tries to hit the ball real hard

Sitting up with assistance, and playing with our cool fish table
Looking generally cute
Sitting up with pillow assistance
Although sometimes that turns in to lounging a bit. Hey, what are pillows for?
Little help here, please, Mom...
Standing up tall in his exersaucer
And chewing on everything in sight
Also, somehow looking like he's about 27 years old
Trying his damnedest to get out of this silly Bumbo seat
Getting lots of kisses from Mom

That's what we've been up to! Happy holiday weekend! We're off to New York to swim in Grandma and Grandpa's pool.

High Five

Well, Dexter, you reached the five month mark. Time flies! It seems like just a few months ago you were this cute, useless little blob who couldn't do much beyond flail an arm around feebly and cry a bit... Look at you now!
Here's what you're up to these days:

You're sitting up by yourself, kind of. For some reason you sit up better when sitting on a blanket in the grass. Don't ask me why, I don't know. I just roll with it. You can sit up by yourself (look, Ma, no hands!) for a good half a second before you flop backwards, tilt sideways, or slowly lean forward til your nose is smashed on to the ground. It's really all kinds of good fun watching you and trying to decide which way you'll fall next.

You're tossing toys around with a vengeance. Just today I had to kind of giggle at you as you shook the living tar out of your giraffe rattle and smacked yourself in the forehead with it. And then cried.

You are working REALLY hard on Bumbo chair escaping. It's quite impressive to watch you arch your back and throw your head back, trying to escape. Soon you shall, and when that happens I am waiting for the backwards tumble out of the bumbo, the head cracking on the floor, and the ensuing tears.

You've discovered, in the past two days, how to use your pooping muscles. Like more often than every three days. And wow, have you been practicing. Now, granted, I kind of like this new twice (or five times) daily pooping thing you've been doing. It's better than the every three day OMG poop explosion. But it's a little random. Why the sudden regularity? Where are you getting extra fiber from? WHAT ARE YOU EATING? Is it the toes? Damn those toes for making you a poop machine!

You are drooling like a mad man, not nursing worth a damn, and running just a tiny bit of a fever. So, of course, I expect to see five hundred teeth in your mouth tomorrow morning. Or at least some sign that there might be a tooth coming. Instead, I am sure, all symptoms will subside and you'll be fine for a few days, and then you'll start this fun thing all over again. Why do I think that? Because this is the THIRD TIME I've been certain that a tooth is going to pop out any second now.

You have begun to shriek, just kind of randomly. Sometimes it's because you are laughing. Sometimes it's because you see something cool. But most of the time I think it's just because you want to hear yourself. And man, how could you NOT hear yourself with the god-awful noise that is coming out of your mouth. Your new nickname could easily become Screech if you keep this up.

You are, when playing on your back, starting to roll over to your side and just maybe starting to think about rolling all the way over to your belly. But once you get there, what would you do? Besides squawk in indignation at the plight of the tummy time.

You are, at last check (which was five days ago), 16 pounds, 1.7 oz. Which puts you just shy of doubling your birth weight. Which is the benchmark we apparently want to meet by your six month birthday. I am guessing we'll meet that no problem.

You are, according to my oh-so-scientific measurements and your dad's tape measure, 27 inches long.

You are, still, ridiculously cute.

PS - related to nothing, but entertaining. Your sister just puked up her dinner, which she ate for breakfast this morning. And then proceeded to eat the puke. I guess dinner tastes better the second time around? It certainly makes for easier puke clean-up.

PPS - Everyone in Wal-Mart thought you were hella cute today, what with your kicky legs, smiley face, and "Hunk" bib.

PPPS - Apparently putting you in the crib after you've napped for 20 minutes in the car simply means "kick legs and suck my thumb" as opposed to "go back to sleep."