Thursday, June 26, 2014

George at Twelve Months

I've literally had this written for like a month, but I've been totally lazy about adding the pictures so I waited forever to post it... because I'm lazy.  Yep.  So lazy.  I'm working on finishing my last class of college EVER and it's taken its tole.  Trust me.

But wow!  George is a year old, that's so crazy-cool!  He spent most of his first birthday crying.  But that's a story for another day.  A very, very funny story.  Really, this month George just developed this terrible stranger-danger, which is apparently right on mark for a one year-old.  Seriously, he decided that he literally couldn't be in the same room as my grandpa.  Which, hello, she is literally the kindest human being on the planet, so it was a very random choice.  But I think he now hates the elderly.  Which is awkward.  He also decided that walking him into a room of people who all want to love him is the most terrible thing ever.  We just laugh it!

Fell in love with grapes and hot dogs with mustard!  He also learned how to use his new sippy cup that doesn't spill.  Even if he throws it.  Awesome.  Granted, he also learned (after many, many patient talks) to put his cup in the cup holder.  HOLLAH!  It was awesome.  He just randomly did it three times during once lunch time, and I was like, "Oh my gosh, patience really does pay off!"

You know what else paid off?  Being patient about bed time.  After months of teething and who-knows-what and having to rock him to sleep basically every night, after him being up till ten or later, he's finally getting back to his normally scheduled night time.  And while I'm totally preparing to go back to a weird sleep schedule, because that's just having a baby, for now it's AWESOME.

Also, his 24-month jammies fit him, but were still lose enough in this twelfth month that when he'd crawl around in them one leg would eventually get caught in the main bodice.  It was always hilarious.  He'd get pretty mad when I didn't notice fast enough.





Also, I sort of learned that children suddenly need to eat half a horse and get very hangry if those needs aren't met.  I wasn't understanding this new development, so for a few days George wasn't very happy with me.  Basically because he was starving.  Yeah, I'm a cool mom.  Once I figured it out I realized that I seriously need to be offering him food like every thirty minutes, if not more.  Meal, snack, snack, snack, meal, snack, snack, nap time, snack, snack, meal.  Something like that.  He eats SO MUCH.  I'm talking two whole hot dogs, a bunch of grapes, and a full sippy cup and a half of juice.  And then he needs a snack in thirty minutes.  That's my boy!

Moving EVERYWHERE.  All over the place.  Kitchen to family room, under the air hockey table, everywhere.  Multiple times we're all upstairs hanging out and we'll turn around and he'll be gone!  Every time we've found him across the house in the office, playing.





Also, he kind of floats on just his butt when he gets super happy.  He's basically a pilates major.

Still loves books more than anything else.  And being outside.  He only hated grass the one time and now he totally doesn't care.  I'll go outside to cook my eczema off and I'll put him in his white trash pool (i.e., an old XL t-shirt bucket from Crew Colors) and he can be outside for forever basically.  With lots of sunscreen, of course, because he's pasty and such.

Loves putting things into things or putting things on top of things.  The relation of things to things is definitely fascinating to him.





Master of the tub.  He's been doing this for a while, but he's been in the tub a lot more this past month so I guess I just really started thinking about how mobile he is in the tub!  Crawling, standing on his knees, putting toys up on the side, taking them back down.  It's his zone!

In a weird between stage for pant size.  12-month too small, 18-month a little too big... it was interesting for a while.  Luckily it's warmed up and shorts are no big deal with sizing!

Everything is game now.  If he can touch it, he will.  It's a really funny stage.  He's got a hankerin' for trash cans.

He's love his blankets.  SO MUCH.  We have three super fuzzy blankets that he has claimed, one was actually purchased for him from his Grandma Bailey, but the other two are super girly cheetah and tiger print ones that my parents bought for the girls in the family for Christmas.  And he LOVES the girly ones, too.  We'll have one of the girly ones out in the front room (probably because it's dirty and needs to be washed but I've yet to take it upstairs) and he'll play and then crawl over, snuggle it, play, snuggle it, play, roll around in it, play snuggle, snuggle, snuggle.  And let me say, it's sort of the cutest thing ever.  When you put him to bed he'll do the same thing with his big gray one--he just loves those things!





"Making music", otherwise known as beating things against other things until he finds the thing that makes the best sound.

Seriously is weirdly obsessed with trying to pull his diaper off.  Or he just always needs to be doing something with his hands, who knows.  All I know is that you can find him absentmindedly tugging at his diaper at all times of the day.





George is apparently a dog.  You'll find him chasing the cat, chewing on shoes, and trying to eat the dog food.  Him and Babs also have this secret pact on the proper positioning for eating time, where she will park herself under the high chair and he'll try to secretly drop her food.

Shakes things with one hand, and uses the other hand to support that hand in the shaking.  Because it's super heavy or something.  Mostly it's just funny to watch.

Shimmies ALL the time.  We joke that a shimmy means he approves of something.  You can say, "Shimmy, shimmy, shimmy!" and dance and he'll dance along with you, it's pretty cute!

Randomly started waving again and then decided to clap, this after many moons of trying to teach him.  He's my kid because he totally knows how to do something, but he hates preforming and he definitely hates being told that he has to do it in something other than his timetable.


Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Another Poop Themed Story That You Probably Didn't Want to Know

Around four AM this morning, I woke to a whimpering baby.  This normally indicates that said baby is hungry--we're feeding him the transitional 12-18 formula stuff because my dad literally got $120 of it for basically $1.  True story--or just looking for a drink (which I totally understand because I wake up at least once a night for a drink and so does Brad; we're all fish here, apparently).  So, anyway, I go in there, give him his bottle, he rolls to his side, the universal cue for he's-falling-asleep, I go back into my bed, fall back asleep.

Probably an hour later, whimpering baby.  This time I go in there and is smells a little fishy.  But my son is prone to the reesty farts in the early morn', so I wasn't worried about it.  He always farts in his room, it's pretty smelly.  But I figured that he was just in a little pain from his teeth coming in still and that's what woke him up, so I give him the bottle to chew on, go back to bed.

More whimpering.  Six AM.  Go in there, it reeks to high heaven.  I look down and realize the lower front of his shirt is wet, too.  This can't be good.  Run, get a diaper and a buttload of wipes.  Change the grossest, most wet poopy diaper of my life.  Seriously, more liquid than the newborn diapers of yore.  And it was literally the worst smelling thing ever.  EVER.  Had to hurry and change all of his bedding; luckily we always lay a blanket beneath and over him, so no sheets had to be changed.

But, oh, THE SMELL.  His room smelled just awful.  So then I'm grabbing the air freshener which then made the room smell like the-worst-poo-ever and pine trees.  Awesome.  Then I realize George still smells.  But we can't do a bath yet because, dude, we're both still tired.  So I literally just put good smelling lotion on him.  Mom of the Year?  I think so.

But the room still smells like butt.  So I grab the always-helpful matches and light like three and finally something eats away at that nasty smell.

Not that anyone ever wanted to know this, but, you know.  It's a fun morning so far.

Sunday, June 8, 2014

Why I Can't Be Angry About Six Hours of Sleep

Last night was rough.

This whole week George has done great, slept great, woken up maybe once each night, it's been amazing.  Last night was not amazing.  The longest increment of time he slept was about four hours.  He didn't "go to bed" until 11:30 PM and was up by 1:00 AM (which just after I finally fell asleep--I'm terrible at getting myself to sleep, I have a busy head).  I got him sort of back to sleep, but pretty much not because he was up again at 2:00 AM.  And this time, screaming.  I soothed him multiple times but every time I got him to sleep and went to lay him back down he was right back screaming.  All this time I'm noticing that George is warm, but I just assumed that he was overheated because that kid loves his blankets.

Brad woke up the third time I had done the sooth-lay-him-down-screaming-again thing, and I was sort of on my last bit of energy.  We joke that George knows whenever we make plans and, if he doesn't approve, he'll not sleep like normal.  I had a baby shower for my sister-in-law the next morning and all I was thinking that it was absolutely true and that I was never going to be able to make plans ever again and basically it just got really dramatic from there (remember, I was running on basically an hour of sleep at that point).  After almost a year of a great baby who loved people and who slept surprisingly well for the most part and that rocked Disneyland at five months old and was a trooper for everything--especially large groups of people--suddenly couldn't make it to 10:30 AM play dates and 11:30 AM baby showers and cried at the sight of a room full of women.  Why?  Why?

Last night, prior to all of this, I went to a friend's viewing.  This friend was only 22-years old when she passed this week due to brain cancer.  I went to the viewing with another friend and it was quite the beautiful and surprisingly personal experience.  The Spirit was just there.  It was wonderful, comforting, and just so eye-opening.  I cried as I hugged her mom.  I cried as a stood over the casket.  I didn't think that I'd cry, I don't know why I didn't but I really didn't.  But I cried pretty hard.

When I got home, George was still up.  It was 9:30 PM by then; this was the beginning of what was to be a very long night.  But as I was loading him up in his stroller for a late night walk I realized that any frustrations I could potentially have with this situation were selfish.  I realized that a lot of things that we hold on to and freak out about and are stubborn about are actually pretty selfish in nature.  Because, how was George not sleeping very well affecting me very negatively?  Losing sleep, is that really that awful?  Being tired?  Is going late to a baby shower or even not being able to attend actually something that terrible?  No.  No, it wasn't.  Can it be difficult?  Totally.  And it is.  But is it actually something that I need to be angry over?  No.  Not at all.  And I realized that.  I realized that as I felt that wonderful spirit while at my friend's viewing.  I realized that most often the things that we think are so important actually don't having any sort of actual, real meaning beyond some sort of Me Monster that we're feeding.

It's funny because my mom and sister actually joke that they're super surprised that I'm a pretty calm mother.  This is due to the fact that really, I don't have much patience with other people's children (I've been working on that, trust me).  But for me, life's fairly logical, pretty straightforward.  And that's sort of how motherhood fell into place for me.  If I logically lay out the circumstances that I'm ready to meltdown over, I realize that most often it's a pile of poop I'm trying to defend to myself.  It's nothing.  They're so small and they're so definitely not worth making a fuss over.

Because seriously, is staying up caring for a sad baby with teeth tearing through his gums a waste of my time?  Absolutely not.  And as I was hitting my last ounce of energy around seven o'clock this morning I realized that I was totally going to be okay.  That every time I've ever been up late and thought, "I can't do this another night, Heavenly Father," I'm totally proven wrong because it does happen again and I do it and I'm okay.

I've noticed that, in motherhood especially, the only things I can ever really get upset over, I'm upset over for selfish reasons.  Don't get me wrong, it's perfectly okay to need a moment to yourself.  We all need a very long nap from time to time (luckily George and I both got a four hour nap today, SCORE!).  We all need to drink an entire two-liter of Diet Coke because, you know what?  A giant, cold Coke totally does make everything better.  The commercials do not lie.  And every now and then, we need a break.  We need to be alone.  And we definitely need to take care of ourselves.  But we don't need to get angry.  We don't need to let everything that the world tells us we're missing out on (also known as a good night's sleep) make us mad.  Especially not at our kids.

So, last night was super rough.

But today was great.  My son may have sobbed uncontrollably at the sight of a large group of women, but that's okay.  Because, I realized that I feel that way a lot of the time too.  Walking into a room full of strangers, sometimes I want to cry.  The only reason I don't is because I'm old enough to say what I'm feeling.  George?  He only knows how to tell me he's uncomfortable through tears.

So who am I to feel embarrassed or tell George that he can't be scared?  Because, dude, he totally can.  That's his right as a person.  He doesn't have to like anything he doesn't want to.  He has every right to choose.  And just because he can't talk to me about it yet doesn't mean I need to be mad.  Again, because what is there to be mad about?  Mommy can't socialize?  That's stupid.  That's selfish.  And I know that.

So I won't be mad.  And I'm not!

People have been concerned that I'm frustrated or don't enjoy my time with others as George has started feeling like this, but I'm really proud to say that it totally doesn't do anything like that.  If anything, I mostly feel bad that I've put George in a situation that makes him feel weird again, haha.  We're working through it.  One day we'll talk through it.

But if anything, I remember very clearly a little girl who bawled at the thought of any school program that ever existed until like age six, and I remember even more clearly a father and mother who never made me do anything that I didn't want to do.  I know that I'm the confident and individual woman that I am today because of that.  My parents never let me be afraid of not wanting to do something, of saying no.  My parents always showed me the consequences of choosing to participate or choosing not to participate--whatever it may have been--and then they let me choose.  And I'm absolutely giving George that same courtesy.  Because what he feels does matter.  What he wants with his life absolutely matters.  His opinion matters, and he absolutely deserves a say in what he does and does not want to do.

And so yeah, we're working on learning the consequences of no sleep.  But trust me, that four hour nap shows that he's learning.  Nothing I do or say or force on him is going to make him understand the power of no sleep except not sleeping, right?  He'll learn in his own way and time.  And I'm cool with that because I'm not going anywhere.

I choose to not be angry that he can make his own choices.  And seriously, why would I be?

Thursday, June 5, 2014

Baileys Lately #1

  • Last Friday, George and I were in my bedroom playing when Brad got home early unbeknownst to us.  Brad was crawling on the floor into the bedroom to surprise George with the ultimate, "PEEK-A-BOO!" when I saw him and shrieked.  Brad lets out this huge belly laugh, and then George proceeds to do two laughs just like his dads.  And man, we LAUGHED.  It was truly hilarious.
  • George has stranger-danger to the max.  He literally despises being with large groups of people.  He also randomly decided my grandma was his mortal enemy for a day.  We eventually got him to warm up to her, luckily.  She's sort of the weirdest choice George could ever make to hate considering she is literally the nicest person to walk the earth, and also sounds just like me.  So yeah.  That could mean something awkward for me.
  • George's greatest wish is to eat dog food.  That dream came true on Monday morning when I turned my head for two seconds.  He enjoyed every second that dog food was in his mouth, trust me.
  • The idea of getting "caught up" on laundry is a terrible, terrible and sick joke.  There's not possible way of accomplishing said feat and it drives me nuts.  I will die in the laundry room, probably.  Washing garments, most likely.
  • Speaking of laundry, it's super hard to do when George is awake because he always finds me (I try to hide behind the counter with the huge pile of clean clothes) and then wants to play this very, very weird game of me throwing shirts on his head.  He thinks it's the funniest game ever.  He'll come over, grab a shirt, and try to put it on his own head to signal the game start.  He can't do it on his own, and it just makes him so happy that you've got to play.  Seriously.  It's so cute.  Sort of sad because it's a really dumb game, but also very, very cute.  Laundry remains unfolded for large amounts of time, basically.
  • I just barely realized how awesomely less time consuming it is to bathe your child in the sink.  I know, super late to jump on that bandwagon.  One day I was folding laundry (of course, because my day wouldn't be the same without it) and I thought, "Hey, I'll bet George would stop making me throw a shirt on his head if he was swimming in the sink!"  And yeah, he loved it, and it is now the only way to go when bath time comes.  So much simpler.
  • We love this weather.  SO MUCH.  Seriously.  We bought bikes and are just waiting for George's bike seat and mini (and holy-nerdy-Batman) helmet to get here so we can ride our bikes every night!  Right now we just go on a two and a half mile walk every night which has been so awesome!  Also, Brad biked to church the other day.  He loved it.  Yep.  Nerd.
  • All George really wants in the world (besides dog food) is wheels.  He looks for wheels on every toy he's given.  We were sitting out on the lawn and he crawl across the driveway to the wheel on the trash can.  He's obsessed.  He got a dump truck from his Grandma Bailey and he immediately wanted it flipped over to spin the wheels.
  • Brad's getting his final raise at the end of the month and it's EPIC.  We're so psyched.  He's done so great and he's moving forward beautifully at work.  He's just awesome.  I love that man.  I'm so proud of him and all the hard work he puts in.
  • We currently reside in the basement and we've been leaving the window open each night so we don't have to ever turn on air conditioning.  A few nights a week my family's cat Shaquiqui will come and meow at our window.  Like we're going to let her in through it or something.  There's a giant set of metal bars over the window well and a screen on the window.  What's her plan, exactly?
  • Brad and I started Leverage from the beginning on Hulu Plus and it's sort of freaking awesome.  We just started season four and I'm already getting depressed that there are only five seasons.  What will we watch once we're done?!  SO SAD.  It's okay, I'll get over it.  I seriously love finishing entire television series.  It gives me a much higher sense of accomplishment that it should.