Sweet (Potato) Seven

I can't believe my little boy is seven months old. On his way toward being one year old. With teeth. And working on crawling. In his crib. While he's supposed to be napping. :-(

Today at lactation group he weighed 18 pounds, half an ounce. Up a pound since our last visit, which was a month ago. So all is well. We may have to forgo lactation group from now on, though. Way too much distraction going on there. Bummer - Mom will miss her social hour!

Playing in his pool on the last hot day of August. Glad we finally got to swim - we didn't get in the lake at all in NY. Too cold!

Check out my teeth! Dex has lumps on his top gums for some more teeth, too. Who knows when they will actually come in.

On Sunday after our trip to Bomboys (you know, because we survived a week of eating too much, we should go celebrate with ICE CREAM!) we switched Dexter's car seat to his big boy seat. He seems to like it just fine.

First day of trying something other than cereal. Sweet potato. I am guessing by the coughing and gagging he does after each bite that it's not really his favorite thing in the world... However, as John will attest from his diaper change, some sweet potato actually DID get swallowed.

Why thanks, Dex. I DO rule. Glad you noticed! ;-)

Vay-cay Recap

We just returned last night from the Adirondacks, after a long, dark, and I think rainy drive. Who knows. The dog, the baby and I were sleeping. I have loads of laundry waiting to be done, an empty fridge, and I could really use a nap. But I'll put a few pictures here so you can see how fun our week away was. Some time later I'll post more of the (ahem) WHOLE LOT of photos I took. Somehow, a cute baby seems to be in 99.9% of them...

Here's Bear Dance Camp, at Loon Lake in the middle of freaking nowhere:

Yeah, this place sucks... ;-)
Somehow I never made it down to the dock at sunset. Ah, well. We'll just have to go back...

We brought both kids:

Plenty of room in the car... We could have at least fit another water bottle. Or maybe an M&M...

We did some of this:
And a whole lot of this:

And it was FREAKING COLD out in the mornings:

Also, check out how big the baby is, since the last time he wore this funny hat:
Click for link

We went to Lake Placid and saw some cool ski jump stuff:

We went up to the top of the jump on the right. Scary. You cannot see, AT ALL, where you are supposed to land. And it is TAAAALLLLLL. Nuts.

Too bad nobody liked playing with the baby... :-)

But occasionally we stole him back for ourselves (funny, somehow he always ended up with us when he was crying...)

And somewhere, somehow, in the three seconds that this child may have sat on the floor all week, he learned to do this:

Look out, world. Mobility is on its way...

And that's about it! We ate a lot. We didn't sleep nearly enough. John and I ran away for a night and left Dexter in the capable hands of his Nonna and his aunties. We succeeded in thoroughly tiring out the old dog. And CoCo also decided that her seat in the backseat of the car was not nearly comfy enough:

How come the kid gets this cushy seat, and I just get a fleece blanket? I swear, we didn't put her up to this. When we stopped, she first went over to the other side of the car to sit on the cooler. When we shooed her off there, she just stopped and rested in the car seat for a bit. Poor old pup. She's happy to be home.

Over the River and Through the Woods

To Grandmother's house we go... The horse knows the way, to carry the sleigh, through white and drifting snow.

OK, so it's not quite Christmas yet. But it almost feels like it in New York! We swung by Grandma and Grandpa's house to make a new friend:
And also to show off our new teeth (you kind of have to look closely, but there's little nubs on the bottom. I promise. They hurt.):
And also to see Aunt Jeanne:
And now we are tired (although I don't know how the baby could still be tired. I am pretty sure he was only awake for about five minutes today). And we're not quite in vacation mode yet. Give us a day or two, as we relax on a lake in the middle of nowhere. THEN we'll be in vacation mode!

Aunt Jeanne, maybe we'll catch fish on vacation that will have lips just like yours!

Packing my winter coat...

Holy Jesus. Have you SEEN the weather forecast for Saranac for next week? Highs in the 60's. Showers likely every other day. Lows? 42. Freaking 42!

I do believe my plan for the baby to spend a vast majority of our vacation swimming in the lake, mere feet away from our cottage, is out the window. Now what to do with a seven month old baby who will be cooped up in a cold house for a week?

Meanwhile, here it is currently 85 degrees, with 127% humidity. And it's 9AM.

Pardon me while I go find a winter hat for the baby...

I'll just play, Mom. I am good at playing. And falling over...

Fascination

I've known a boy or two in my lifetime, so I realize that life for them is kind of all about the penis. Think with penis. Act with penis. Always the penis. But I didn't realize this fascination began SO GODDAMN EARLY. I mean, seriously. Dexter is six months old. Six MONTHS! And as soon as the diaper comes off, the hand goes right down to the penis. Is it still there? What's it doing there? What are these other squishy things down there? Any fun streams of liquid coming out down there? No? What can I do to make that happen?

John changed Dexter's diaper yesterday and noticed the immediate penis grab. He said he decided it was no big deal. Which is what I thought for a couple diaper changes, too. Till the dreaded poopy diaper. With subsequent poop all over both hands. I told John that and he said "Huh. Yeah, I guess I didn't think about that."

So I guess I don't have much hope in Dexter ever just kind of... forgetting? That there's a penis between his legs? And ignoring it? Because he is, through and through, a boy. The best plan of attack for now, I think, is to discourage the penis grab during diaper changes. All of them. So perhaps Dexter McPoopy Hands can be a thing of the past.

Also, when does this child get a sense of feeling, and knowing that something he is doing to himself is painful? Because the force with which he grabs his penis and balls and twists them in his little hands... It kind of makes me cringe. And I'm not even a boy.

A quick news feed, completely unrelated to penises. AKA: I should probably make this a separate post but I am too damn lazy to do so...

1) Oatmeal + formula mixed in to one sticky pasty mess = instant success in one baby's eyes
2) Said success may mean the end of daily pumping for Mom (yay!)
3) On the other hand, formula is, I think, gold dust or something. Ridiculously expensive.
4) Stick a finger in Dexter's mouth. Go ahead. Go for it. Feel that sharp thingy? Bottom, front, on the right hand side? I do believe that's a tooth. The little nub of a little tooth. In my not so little boy. Now go ahead. Let the baby chew on your finger...

And now, in more unrelated to anything kind of stuff, a photo story from Dexter:

Hey, look! Dad's shoe! Looks like a fun toy to play with while Mom is in the bathroom. What shall I do with it?
I'll try it on my foot. That's what Dad does with it.
Hmmm. That didn't work quite like I had hoped.

Ah, yes. THIS. This is much better. A much more appropriate use of shoes.
Umm. Ick. This shoe tastes like Dad's foot. And a little like CoCo's butt...

It Takes a Village

Dexter, CoCo, and I safely made it to New York yesterday. Getting one small boy and one small dog to New York in one small car is no small feat. I owe some thanks:

Thanks, CoCo, for being the world's most perfect traveling companion. Every time I looked in the back seat you were sleeping (which is more than I can say for your brother). Every time we stopped you waited patiently for your turn to go pee. Every time it was time to get back in the car, you happily jumped right in (or got a boost from me, poor old dog who can no longer jump in to the car). You're allright, fuzzy brown dog. We'll keep ya.

Thanks, Wendy's in Clarks Summit, for having a quiet corner in which to park and nurse a baby, as well as a retaining wall that was the perfect height for a diaper changing table. We'll stop again on our way home. It also helps that you have kick-ass chocolate Oreo Frostys.

Thanks, built-in XM radio. Would lose my sanity without you.

Thanks, Opie and Anthony, for the 20 minutes of show replay I got to listen to while the baby was sleeping. Sorry I can't listen more - little ears, and all.

Thanks, baby feet, for being an excellent source of entertainment for Dexter for the entire trip. You were the only thing he could not throw out the side of his car seat. Lord knows he tried, but you kept coming back in.

Thanks, Huggies diapers, for containing stinky baby poop with no leaks. My love/hate relationship with you has now swung back over to "love."

Thanks, Lansing, NY, for being a place that people wanted to move to and raise their kids. Because of you, I have five amazing girlfriends who will be friends for life. We don't get to see each other often enough, but it's great fun when we do.

Dexter found himself a new woman friend. She looks pleased, eh?

Thanks, Chik-Fil-A, for putting pickles on your chicken sandwiches. And for being closed on Sundays, which is when John usually is in your vacinity, so he cannot eat you. So then when I go visit you, I can make him very very jealous.

Thanks, Mom and Dad, for being a fun place to come visit. The pool, the food, the beer, the ice cream, the beer, the beer, and the beer...

Thanks, honey, for being the best husband ever. I love you. We'll be home soon. Enjoy that middle of the bed while you can!

The main reason for my trip north - to meet these two cuties, and to see their mom for the first time in way too long.

Beanpole

Dexter had his six month doctor visit today. He got weighed and measured and chatted to the doctor and pooped on the exam table and had some vaccinations and cried and nursed and took a nap on the way home. All in all a full day!

The boy is doing phenomenally well. They weighed him at 18 lbs 3 oz (nah, he didn't gain a pound in five days. Different scales, and he was wearing clothes today). That's like the 55th percentile. And they measured him at 29 inches. Which is... kind of off the chart. 95th percentile, they are calling it. Basically, what we have on our hands is a tall skinny future NBA player. Who John is determined to teach to be a point guard, because white boys get their butts kicked down in the post position when they are in the NBA. John's also determined to make him a pro baseball player, but me? Meh. Baseball is boring. And basketball players have way better arms...

Dex and I are packing our bags and tomorrow we are OUTTA HERE! Going to our swim lesson, then making a trip to New York to see some old friends and to swim in Grandma and Grandpa's pool. And eat. A lot. And also freeze our butts off. Highs - 75. Lows - 55. 55!! Jesus. That's like winter! We have packed plenty of pants and jackets. We are sissies.

Just call me Beanpole
Practicing playing "hoops"
95th percentile in cute