Wordless Wednesday - CRAWLING!

Do shrieks and rasberries count as wordless?

Heart on the Outside

I was laying by Larkin this afternoon, trying to nurse him to sleep. He kept shooting me a sleepy but mischievous smile and trying to flip over and crawl away. Little devil. I turned our little white noise machine from the rain to the heart beat setting, hoping the change in rhythm would calm him down. No go, but the noise brought back a memory.

I was 23 weeks pregnant, and we were back in the hospital. My contractions had increased again, until they were coming every couple of minutes. I called my doctor and he ordered me in to L&D for monitoring. It was midnight, so our fears were compounded by sleepiness. The nurse made small talk while she hooked me to an IV for fluids, and strapped me to the monitors. She flipped a switch and the sound of Larkin’s heartbeat filled the quiet room.

She checked me for amniotic fluid and dilation (both happy negatives) and we sat and watched the green beeping lines as the machine tracked the rise and fall of my contractions. Jonathan paced and watched a muted DIY decorating show on the little TV as the nurse patted my hand and encouraged me to rest and relax while we waited for the doctor to come check things out. As she stood up to leave, she switched off the speakers that were broadcasting the baby’s heart beat into the room.

“NO!” I said. She looked back, and understood what I meant exactly. That sound was the only link I had to my impossibly pre-term and in distress baby. I couldn’t yet feel his kicks and squirms.  I couldn’t hold him and kiss him. That sound was the only sign I had that he was doing okay in there. His heartbeat wasn’t going to keep me from resting – it was the only thing that would allow me to rest at all.

She switched the speakers back on, and I lay back on the hospital bed. I listed to the whoosh of fluids and the patter of a tiny heart. I closed my eyes and thought how he was hearing my heartbeat the same way I was listening to his, and hoped it was offering him similar comfort.

I spent many hours throughout my pregnancy being monitored in L&D. The nurses on the floor came to remember my request to always leave those speakers on. I, of course, no longer get to listen to the sound of his heartbeat (I guess I could put my ear to his chest, but that would require him to sit still, which isn’t going to happen any time soon). Instead, I get to watch the frenetic movements of an obviously healthy little boy.

It’s intimidating to be a parent. The second that baby is born, you realize that you now have to spend the rest of your life with your heart wandering outside of your body. It’s an excruciatingly vulnerable feeling. I know that my emotional well being is forever entangled in this little pioneer.

Yes. Yes, you are.

Daily, I make decisions for my son. I chose where he goes, what he eats. I make choices that impact his afternoon and choices that will impact his entire life. From who I chose as his pediatrician to whether he is ready to play on the tile floor (update – he thinks he is, but his forehead may disagree). It’s intimidating. Every day, I pray for wisdom, that I may make wise and informed decisions. Decisions that I (and Larkin) will hopefully never regret.

That being said (I don’t have a smooth transition here, so I’ll just move on along to the next thing that is circling my sleepy little mama brain), I thought I’d make an update on my little firecracker. He’s been making developmental leaps like crazy. In the last week since I wrote his May update, he’s learned to sit up by himself (from laying down), has almost got crawling down pat, has learned to clap (SO.CUTE!) and has learned to give ‘real’ kisses (actual puckering, not just open mouthed slobbers).

Yeah, I got here by myself. Ain't no thang.

 

I see something I shouldn't be getting into. Let's go check it out!

 He has also continued developing that little spitfire personality. He has turned into quite the drama king, and has a whole new range of facial expressions to express his displeasure (in case his shrieks and bellows don’t clue you in). 

He's actually howling. I've always preferred vampires, but he may be the cutest werewolf ever.

Lucky for him, they are all pretty cute, although the hollering is wearing thin. Stay tuned for videos! He’s quite a character, this little boy of mine!

A Prayer for My Son

Dear Lord,

First, God, make my son a man after your own heart. With his every word and deed, let him preach the tender spirit of Christ to those around him. Let him question you and question his birth-spirituality, so that his faith may grow strong and steady on its own. Lord, when he questions it all and searches for his own answers, give me faith in him (and faith in you) that he will settle upon the answers you mean him to find.

God, let him stay a baby as long as possible. Never let me rush one second of his development, and never let him wish a moment of it away. Because life is very long, and childhood is but a magical and fleeting moment.

Let me always be able to soothe his tears as easily as I can now. Bless my memory, that I may never forget the tiniest detail of his babyhood.

When he becomes mobile, and I go to turn his pockets out to do laundry, help me not to die of panic and grossed-outness by the wealth of dirt, slime, bug and critters I will find. Allow me to see it all as treasures he has discovered while exploring his new world, and give me fortitude that I may not embarrass myself by crying when a cricket jumps out towards my face.

And when he is older and has friends in our car, remind me Lord, not to sing out loud. (Unless the song is “The Devil Went Down to Georgia”. Then all bets are off. Although with your strength, I MAY be able to leave out the instrumental sound effects. Maybe.)

May he know want, but never need. Need is a dark, empty, hungry place. Want is an inspiration to work more, try harder, be better.

God, keep him healthy. Protect him from illness and suffering. Know that his every cough and sniffle hurts my heart, and if I can bargain it with you, I will gladly take any illness of his upon myself.

Give him the courage and confidence to always stand his ground and believe in himself. Protect him from bullies, and insulate him from their inevitable taunts. And if he ever becomes a bully himself, Lord, give him someone to whup it out of him, because if they don’t – I WILL.

Allow me to never make any mistakes or missteps in my parenting. And, barring that impossibility, make my infractions minor and his forgiveness quick.

Midway through my pregnancy, I retired to bed in order to keep him safe. Now, I spend my days protecting him from harm. But I know that one day, he will walk out of my reach. Lord, keep my boy safe.  Protect him from all who wish him harm. Protect him from his peers who will prod him towards dangerous behavior. Protect him (perhaps most of all) from himself.

May he never pop his collar. May he never wear highly reflective sunglasses - or sunglasses of any type at night or inside a building. May he never wear baggy pants or ironic t-shirts. And if he does commit any of these sins (or whatever silly fashions his generation creates), Lord, help me to remember a girl in white Guess jeans, a denim jacket and penny loafers with neon socks, and to not tease him too harshly.

Help strengthen me, that I may tolerate long and late nights as well when he learns to drive as I do now in his infancy. Allow my constant presence when he returns home to be both a comfort and an annoyance that spurs him to always make curfew.

Lord, ensure that my son always treats women with the greatest of respect. Remind him that every girl is somebody’s daughter – not least of all, she is your daughter.

One day he may fall in love with one of those women. Lord, I ask that you go to the little girl that woman is today. Lay your word on her heart, that she may be a woman worthy of you and worthy of my son. Soften her heart, that she may see the world through your eyes. Make her be gentle and kind to his lovely heart. Let her love you and love him in a way that will endear my son to further his walk with you.

And when he marries this woman, help her to see him as I see him now - as he was when he was just a tiny baby in my arms. Let her know how dearly I love him, and know that he is the light of my life. And (please God) allow her to permit the love between my son and I. She should know that my tenderness and concern towards him is not a doubting of her standing as his wife, but an outflowing of love for the little boy who once needed me as he will then need her.

Then, when he shall have his firstborn, let us be close enough that he calls me in bleary tones to confide that the baby will not sleep, or is making a mess with his foods, or is wearing the entire household to exhaustion. And Lord, when those calls come, give me the strength to not giggle and bleat a cry of “REVENGE!” – or at least, not out loud.

Thank you, God, for the blessing that is my sweet boy. 

Six Months Old - HAPPY HALF BIRTHDAY, BABY!

Hey Monster,

SIX MONTHS. I know I say this every month, but seriously – where has the time GONE? You are already half a year old. That blows my mind. You’ve been growing and changing so much these last few weeks that I feel like I’ll surely be packing you off to college tomorrow! Two weeks ago, in the span of five days, you learned to sit all by yourself, started eating solid foods, and went swimming in G & G’s hot tub. It was quite an exciting week for you!

The weather has been warm and beautiful here, so we heated up the hot tub, slapped on the sunscreen, and went for a short dip. You tolerated the float boat, but preferred for Mommy or Daddy to hold you while you kicked at the water. We had to cut our dip a little short when a cool wind picked up, but you bundled up in your towel and snuggled with Gaunie in the sunshine.

 

 

As far as solids, your hands down favorite is sweet potatoes. Whenever I serve them, you gobble them down and even make a dent in seconds. You rated bananas as acceptable, and took a pass on peas. That’s okay; we’ll try them again later. You have marvelous table manners – except when sweet potatoes are on the menu. When that yummy goodness is in front of you, all bets are off. You grab for the spoon, lunge for the next bite, and grunt and shriek if it takes “too long” for Mommy to scoop up the next spoonful. 

More please!

 Another milestone is that we officially left behind the pacifier. You were never really crazy about it, although it would help chill you out occasionally. Now, you act like we are attempting to poison you if we get the pacifier anywhere near you. You’ve been exploring the wonders of thumb and finger sucking, but haven’t really figured out how to use them for pacifying. Mommy would really appreciate it if you’d get that worked out soon, because until then, you’re pretty much using me as a human pacifier. So let’s work on that!

While working out the finger finding mission, we have also abandoned swaddling. We tossed out the Woombie, stocked up on footie pajamas, and got to sleeping like a big boy. You still wake yourself up sometimes without that snug swaddle you loved so much, but I finally realized I couldn’t hold on to swaddling anymore since you were rolling so well.

We have officially abandoned the bottle effort. You were never a bottle baby anyway (as the poor ladies in the church nursery learned when you screamed bloody murder when they tried to feed you), so we bought you a sippy cup. You mostly like it as a teether right now, but will drink out of it occasionally.  

Tomorrow is your six month checkup. I can’t wait to find out how much you weigh and how long you’ve gotten. None of us are looking forward to your next round of shots, but since your four month shots went easier than your two month, I’m hoping this round will be even easier (although I’m pretty sure they’re harder on Mommy and Daddy than on you). **Update - You are now 17.5 lbs and 26.5 inches long. Big boy! You also took your shots very bravely, and were mostly just mad at Mommy and Daddy for holding you down.**

It’s so funny. When you were born, I swore I could never love you more. But as you grow, so apparently does my heart. Every day you change a little, grow a lot, and I just love you more and more. You get cuter and more charming (which I also didn’t think was possible). You give the sweetest smiles and kisses. You demand everyone’s undivided attention (and have even learned how to fake cough to get it!).  You are master of all of our hearts.

Making a grab for the camera

I love the way you dissipate all my stress with a smile. I love the way you wake up from every nap completely discombobulated and annoyed, but happy and cheerful when you wake up in the morning. I love the way you try so hard to talk. 

Seriously, this is your 'trying to talk' face. SO CUTE!

I love the way you perk up while Daddy watches Wheel of Fortune, because you think the audience is clapping for you. I love when you smile so big that your eyes turn into upside down crescent moons like a cartoon character. 

I love when you cry and tiny, earnest tears streak down your sweet chubby cheeks. I love when you see your reflection and get so excited to “kiss the baby”. I love how you do everything full tilt - Including falling asleep mid-play!

                                                      

I love how you light up as soon as I walk into your line of sight. I love the so funny expressions you make.

 

I love everything about you, little boy. I love you wider than the world, and I love you -

- to the moon… and back,

Mommy

Look What I Can Do!

Larkin has been trying his best to sit up unsupported for a few weeks now. We'd practice sitting on the bed or the carpet, somewhere soft to support his many falls. And then, all the sudden:

He got it! He was a bit wobbly (hence a bit of blurriness to the photos) but has finally figured out how to engage his core and use his hands and feet for balance. It's like watching baby Pilates! Of course, sitting has it's dangers:

Oopsie

Now what?!?

And sometimes it seems easier to just give up and do something you know you're good at:

Look cute? I know I'm good at that!

Play with my toes? I'm an expert!

Smile big? Check!

And a pause to lick my toes... mmmm... tasty baby.

But you have to get back up and keep trying!

Growing fast...

Larkin has now officially outgrown his 0-3 month clothes. I packed these up in the garage next to his newborn sized clothes, and cried my eyes out. That was the last of the clothes I prepared before he was born. Once he arrived, I brought this size to the hospital, and they fell right off of him. I pushed it as far as I could, but it’s time to admit defeat – now that the seams are stretching and his little tummy is sticking far out. My little man is growing fast.

The first outfits bought after we found out we were having a boy

Growing Up

I just came in from the garage, where I bundled up all of Larkin’s newborn clothes in a crate to be saved for baby #2 (or a baby clothes quilt if baby #2 ends up in pink). Each of those teeny tiny onesies were laundered and folded with care and love several weeks before my due date. My hugely pregnant self stroked the soft cotton and fingered the tiny stitching, dreaming of the baby to come.

They seemed so impossibly tiny back then, but our little guy swam in them. I relished picking a new outfit every morning, and dressing him up when visitors came to meet him. I loved him in solids, simple colors that made his beautiful blue grey eyes stand out. I could gather up a week’s worth of laundry in a single hand, and the scent of his sweet baby self would fill my heart.

Putting his newborn layette away is actually a long overdue chore. Larkin outgrew the newborn sizes by about six weeks old. I moved them out of the drawers over a month ago, and have been moving them around the apartment as they got in my way. A few weeks ago, they took up residence in his bassinet – which he has also outgrown. And there they have stayed due to my unwillingness to let go of the tiniest stage of my boy’s babyhood.

Although he still (just barely!) fits into most of his 0-3 m stuff, the cold weather that has finally kicked up has forced me to give in and pull out his 3-6 m outfits. I remember receiving all of them, and thinking that it’d be FOREVER before he’d fit into them. But one day lead to the next, and each day brought tremendous growth.

Now, I sit here and cry like a mother packing a child off to college. I’ll never understand the parents who rush through any stage of their offspring’s childhood. Each moment is gold, and I breathe in every second. I keep begging my baby to stay tiny, and he just laughs at me. When the doctor first laid him in my arms, I swore I could never love him more. But every day, I fall a little more in love. As much as I miss his tiny newborn body, his sweet wrinkled feet and quiet, mewling cries, I melt over his huge smile, his growing independence and his rock strong and chubby legs.

My newborn is now an infant, and heading as fast as he can through his babyhood.