"Is He ___________ Yet?"

It’s become clear to me over the past months that the first year of parenthood (and, perhaps beyond) can be broken into at least three “Is he _________ yet?” question phases. Zero to 6 months, the question is: “Is he sleeping through the night yet?” Six to nine months, you get: “Is he crawling yet?” And, after nine months: “Is he walking yet?”

I answer this last question at least four times a day. And, when I explain to the person asking that he isn’t walking yet, then I get one of two responses. They either say: “Don’t worry, he will.” (Uh, thanks. Of course he will. And if he doesn’t it means something is seriously wrong and then won’t you feel sheepish). Or, they say: “My kid/my husband/my cousin’s best friend didn’t walk until they were 18 months.” Seriously? How is that helpful? Who tells a woman schlepping a 25 pound baby around that she could be doing that for another six months? Wow.

Oliver is not walking yet. He’s been pulling up since October, crawling like a madman since November, pushing things around the room since January, and cruising for months now. He will walk around holding on to one of my fingers. His favorite game is to walk between Brian and I holding on to our fingers and then to fall into our laps. He can stand on his own but he will only do it if he’s super distracted (like today when he was listening to music and decided to stand up and dance. He did the Twist in case you’re wondering). But he’s yet to gain the courage to take that first step. It’s as though he’s still too afraid to fall. So, we wait.

In the meantime, I’m a little ticked that no one asks me four times a day if he’s talking yet. Because, yeah, he is. He can recognize pictures of dogs and balls and will point to the book and say the word. He still can’t say “cat” but he makes the kkkkkkkkkk sound when he sees our cats or a picture of a cat. Today he started to sing along with the song “Barbara Ann” by the Beach Boys (the same song he did the Twist to). Yes, I understand that singing to Barbara Ann is just repeating his word for “ball” over and over again but the important thing is that he’s starting to hear and repeat sounds. He’s also started making “complete” babbling sentences so that we can hear him in the backseat or in his crib having an entire conversation with himself full of “ba’s, da’s, ma’s, etc.). And, today, on a whim, we decided to try and teach him the sign for “water.” He started signing it immediately (his version looks more like blowing kisses than the traditional sign language for water but it will pass) and spent the rest of the day making the sign when he was thirsty.  So, he’s not walking but he is starting to communicate with us and that has been really cool.

Like Father, Like Son

Brian and Oliver hit the thrift stores this week and found some great threads. I came home one day this week to find my boys like this:

One Year Wellness Visit

Brian and I took Oliver to the pediatrician on Friday for his one year checkup. The appointment was scheduled during what should have been nap time so I was a little weary of how he would behave. But he was in a great mood the whole time. He played with everything in the waiting room, was all over the exam room while we waited for the doctor, and only cried for about a second and a half when the nurse gave him three shots at the end of the appointment. He was smiling and waving bye-bye to everyone as we walked out.

At nine months he was:

Weight:  21 pounds, 13 ounces (70th percentile)

Height: 28 1/2 inches (55th percentile)

Head Circumference: 18.5 inches (92nd percentile)

At a year:

Weight: 24 pounds, 3 ounces (70th percentile)

Height: 29 1/2 inches (45th percentile)

Head Circumference: 19.2 inches (97th percentile)

He’s still got a huge head!

They asked us all sorts of questions about his development. Can he stand up on his own? Yes, if he’s so motivated. Can he walk holding onto things? Yes. Can he wave bye-bye? He can wave hello so, yes. Does he say “mama” and “dada”? Dada - yes, mama - sometimes. Does he say three words other than mama and dada? Three?! Um, maybe? He says “da!” for dog, “ba!” for ball, and “kkkkk” for kitty. Apparently that counts, though, so good for him! He’s right on track.

We then talked about temper tantrums. For the past couple of weeks, Oliver has been throwing fits when he doesn’t get his way. He will make himself limp and scream. It’s crazy. He almost always does it at home so we have at least been able to avoid the public tantrum but we were at a loss at how to deal with them. I’ve never really been clear on what time of discipline is appropriate at any given age. The doctor had some great advice. She told us that the “terrible two’s” are actually a misnomer and that the “terrible” behavior usually starts closer to the 12 month point because that’s when kiddos start to get their own opinions about how things should work but they don’t yet have the vocabulary to tell you what they want or that they are upset. She said that by the time kids are two they should have the verbal skills to express their wants and the fact that they are angry. In the meantime she suggested we try a couple of things to deal with the tantrums we’ve got going now. While we should ignore the behavior as much as possible, she also suggested that we tell him that we know he’s angry so that he knows that we understand what he’s trying to tell us by screaming. So, for instance, if he’s playing with something that’s not a toy and we have to take it away and he screams, we should say something like: “You are mad because I took away that stick but sticks aren’t toys.” Sounds like great advice but we’ll see how cool and collected we are during the next tantrum. I’m just glad to know that the tantrum behavior is normal this early.

First Birthday Party

We celebrated Oliver’s first birthday last Saturday with a party at our house. We were joined by over 30 friends and family and it was a blast. 

So, now it’s time to send out a HUGE thank you to everyone who came and especially to everyone who helped make the party such a success.

The night before the party, Lindsey and her two cousins, Kacey and Ashley (randomly visiting from Oklahoma and completely unaware of what they were getting into), came over to help us bake and decorate. They baked cakes, decorated cupcakes, hung banners, and made miles of the coolest bunting ever and were so much fun to hang out with while they were doing it. We were up until 1:30 am the day of the party and without the help of these three we wouldn’t have gotten any sleep at all.

While Lindsey and her cousins were hard at work, Grandma Ann was creating a masterpiece for Oliver’s birthday cake. The theme of the party was robots (because I found a cute robot invitation I wanted to use and because robots are awesome). We decided to do cupcakes for everyone else and make Oliver his own small cake that he could dig into and make a mess. Ann makes amazing cakes and this one was no exception. Check her out hard at work and the finished product:

My parents and grandmother all came over a few hours before the party was set to start and helped us get everything ready (they also brought yummy dip and potato salad). As soon as they walked in the door we put them to work, making sandwiches, blowing up balloons, getting ice, entertaining the kiddo, etc.

By the time the guests arrived, everything was perfect. The desserts were ready, the food was laid out, Oliver was in his super cute birthday t-shirt (from Etsy.com) and we were ready to relax and enjoy our day.

Oliver was in an awesome mood. He spent time hanging out with family and friends and he ate some sticks.

Then it was time for cake. Oliver had never had sugar before and has always been a picky eater so he didn’t really eat a lot of it but he still managed to make a mess.

I was concerned that my son lacked the all-important sweet tooth so I decided to give him a cupcake on Monday (his actual birthday). Turns out he prefers chocolate cake.

Thank goodness. As Lindsey pointed out, she and I do too much baking for him not to like the occasional sweet.

It was a perfect day. I am so grateful for everyone who came out to celebrate our little boy and for all the people who helped make the party so stress-free for me. I can’t believe our little boy has already turned one. I can’t wrap my head around the fact so quickly we have gone from this:

to this:

What an amazing year.

Sundays With Oliver - Week Fifty-Two (Finally!)

We survived! 52 weeks of a harebrained experiment. Up until the seventh month it was easy. The last five months have been a struggle. But I am so glad to have this documentation of Oliver’s first year.

We started, fifty-two weeks ago with this:

We survived! 52 weeks of a harebrained experiment. Up until the seventh month it was easy. The last five months have been a struggle. But I am so glad to have this documentation of Oliver’s first year.

We started, fifty-two weeks ago with this:

Fat rolls and smiles.

Three months after that:

Still lying docilely on the dog.

And, in another three months:

A boy on the move.

Finally, at 52 weeks:

Ta-Da! So happy to be done with this insane (but oddly fulfilling) experience.

Oliver says: Yea for us!

And, here’s to our partner in this yearlong project. Thanks, Dog! You’re the best (so patient and still... maybe I will continue to take his picture every week).

I’ve got tons to update but it’s been a long, fun but tiring week so I will space some of it out.  I’ll be doing a separate post tomorrow all about Oliver’s birthday party but I was determined to get this final SWO post up before I went to bed. And, don’t worry, just because this project is over I am not going to abandon the blog. I’m just going to enjoy my Sundays a little more.

Dumping the Pump

After battling for over eleven months, I managed to lose seven pounds in the past week. That’s right, I dumped the pump. As I said earlier, I was having so many problems in the past month pumping enough milk for Oliver each day. I was always coming up short and I was frustrated. And, then, last Friday afternoon, after I had spent twenty minutes pumping to try and get enough milk for Oliver on Monday, I dropped a two ounce bottle of breast milk, soaking my jeans and the floor of my office. I am very proud that I didn’t cry (I’d never dropped that much milk at once and I had certainly never been forced to wear spilled breast milk for hours) but I decided right then that I was done with the pump. After consulting with and being consoled by Laurie and Jessica, I went home and told Brian that the breast milk we had in the freezer was all the breast milk that Oliver was going to get without me around. I was determined not to pump again.

And, luckily for me, it’s worked out so far. I went to work Tuesday, Wednesday and today (I took Monday off to visit with Ben, Deonne and Will) without my pump. It was so awesome to leave that bag at home and to know that I wouldn’t spend twenty minutes cleaning pump parts when I got home. Due to my less than stellar supply as of late, I had no discomfort during the day. Brian and Oliver did great, too. We had enough milk for Oliver to get a bottle before his morning nap but not before his afternoon nap. So, Brian has learned to put him to bed without giving him a bottle and I have enjoyed a week free of the stress, frustration and annoyance that pumping had become. But we’ve only got one bag of milk left in the freezer so, starting next week, Oliver will not have any breast milk while I am at work. Strangely, even the past few days of being pump free have given me a second (or third or fourth) wind when it comes to nursing. It’s so freeing to know that I don’t have some milk quota to meet when I go to work and that I can still have all of the cuddly time of nursing when I get home. I might consider altering my weaning timetable... but, then again, I might not.

The Penultimate Sundays With Oliver - Week Fifty-One

Week 51. Thank God. And, the first week we only managed to get one decent picture. 

Ben, Deonne and Will are visiting from Nevada and we are having a blast. Oliver is in love with his Cousin Will. He’s been following him around the whole time and is awe of everything he does. Will read Oliver a story last night before bed. It was one of Oliver’s favorite books, Oliver Finds His Way. In the book, the little bear, Oliver, gets lost in the woods and has to figure out how to get home. He starts to roar so his parents can hear him. Oliver LOVES it when Will roars. Any time that Oliver was upset today (which was quite often since he’s got a nasty cough and still isn’t up to his usual chipper self), Will would ROAR and Oliver would laugh. They’re pretty stinking cute together.

So, here it is. The only picture we managed to get. One. More. Week.

Sick Kiddo

Although we’ve had a couple of colds to deal with, we’ve been really fortunate that Oliver has never been really sick. In fact, the only time we’ve had to take him to the doctor for anything other than a wellness visit was for a weird poop issue that turned out to be nothing. He’s never run a fever over 100, never had an ear infection, never been visibly sick. We made it almost an entire year without major illness... almost.

Oliver woke up out of sorts on Tuesday morning. He was trying to grin and bear it but was obviously not comfortable. He would play for a little while and then start to whine. We felt him and he was burning up. We took his temperature and it was 102.3. I gave him some Tylenol and since he was acting really exhausted I took him to bed with me to see if he would nap (I called in to work since his fever admittedly freaked me out). We napped for about thirty minutes and then got up so he could eat some cereal and fruit. He ate fine but was immediately wiped out after breakfast. So, I nursed him and put him to bed in his crib. He slept for over an hour. When he got up, he still seemed tired. We went out to the living room, grabbed a stack of books and he proceeded to sit in my lap for almost an hour while I read him books. Anyone who’s spent more than three minutes with Oliver knows that this is completely out of character. He’s a squirmer and a mover. He doesn’t sit still. That sealed it. Between the fever and the change in personality and energy I called the doctor and we booked an appointment for 2:30 that afternoon.

He spent the early afternoon lying on my chest, napping and nursing. When 2:30 finally rolled around we took him in. The doctor came in and asked us a bunch of questions. We told her that the main problem was the fever and his lethargy. He wasn’t showing any other symptoms other than being a little crabby (he would be fine one moment and then start to whine out of nowhere... it seemed like maybe he was in some pain). The doctor checked his ears and they were clear. She checked his throat and although it was a little red, she thought it was fine. After being prodded by her for awhile, Oliver’s patience had disappeared and he started crying inconsolably. So, here we were trying to talk about our son’s symptoms with the doctor and none of us can hear each other. She decided to check him for a urinary tract infection because he’s not circumcised and, at that point, seemed to be in a certain amount of pain. 

To test for a UTI they needed a urine sample. How do you get a urine sample from an eleven-month old? You insert a catheter. It was awful. It took two nurses and Brian to hold him down and he looked at me the entire time, bawling his eyes out. They finished and left us to try and calm him down. I had just gotten him calm (by nursing him) when the nurse came back in and said that the doctor wanted her to get a throat culture, too. So, they got him all worked up again. I got him calmed down yet again and the doctor came back in with the results. There was no UTI and his throat looked fine. So, it wasn’t an ear infection, it wasn’t a UTI, it wasn’t strep throat, it wasn’t the flu (he had a seasonal flu shot and two doses of H1N1 vaccine)... but we still didn’t know what it was. The doctor told us to keep an eye on his temp and to bring him back in on Wednesday for blood tests if his temperature stayed over 102 on Tuesday night/Wednesday morning. So, we left the doctor’s office with no answers and one completely wiped out little boy.  (Truth be told, as I’m writing this I’m a little ticked that they agitated him so much but I think I understand why it happened. He had no history of illness, he seemed to be in pain and his fever was so high that the doctor had to try to look for the source. I’m grateful that she was thorough but frustrated at the lack of answers).

We got him home and we spent the rest of the afternoon/evening like this (Oliver hasn’t slept on me since we started sleep training at five months). When he was done sleeping on my chest, he spent some time sleeping on Brian’s. 

We checked his temperature early in the evening and it was up to 102. 7. We gave him Motrin and one hour later he was at least able to sit up, eat his dinner, and enjoy a bath. He went to bed without incident Tuesday night and only woke up once during the night. He got up at 2:30 so I went in and gave him more Motrin (it had been eight hours since his last dose) and rocked him to sleep for about an hour. He slept until 6:30 Wednesday morning. Not a bad night’s sleep for a sick kiddo. 

Yesterday, he was still running a slight fever (but only 101 or so) and was a little lethargic. Still not up to his usual rambunctious self. Today, he acted like he wanted to go at life 100% but we tried to keep him as calm as possible so that he wouldn’t overdo it. I think within a day or so he will be back to terrorizing the whole house. I guess it was just a cold or some passing virus.

I know I’m going to get some flack for this but, while I hated seeing him so sick and tired, part of me enjoyed all the cuddle time I got with him on Tuesday (I’m a horrible Mom, right?). It’s just that he never sits still, he’s not a cuddly baby and he hasn’t slept on my chest in seven months. I’ve missed snuggling with him and part of me felt good that I could provide some physical comfort for him when he was feeling so miserable. Of course, I’m glad he’s feeling better and, of course, I would never want him to be sick but it was nice to cuddle while he needed it.