15 posts tagged “baby milestones”

And two more on the way. It turns out, The Boy was waking up in the middle of the night with teething pains. This would also explain why he would put both hands in his mouth, his pudgy little fingers pressing down on his bottom gums as he tried to relieve some of the pressure. It's the canines this time. It figures; we breezed through his first molars and his upper canines, so why shouldn't he torment us with the lower ones?

So, he's back on Tylenol before bedtime. It worked marvelously last night; he didn't wake until just after 6 this morning and I was able to get a (relatively) good night's sleep. I kept having weird dreams.

It's so weird to think that just a year ago, he didn't have any teeth, and that he'll have half of his teeth in just a few short weeks. Isn't that crazy? I mean, I know he'll start losing his baby teeth in a few years and all, but almost half of his teeth are in!

[sigh] He's growing up too fast.

Today was The Boy's very first Water Day at school. The teachers invited me to stay a while and check it out; I was curious to see what goes on during Water Days (they make such a big deal about it), so I eagerly stayed to watch.

Before I go into the events of this morning, let me just preface this by saying The Boy really enjoys tubby time. The other night, Chris was filling the tub, and The Boy meandered to the bathroom on his own and was anxious to climb into the tub. That night, though, he squirted himself in the face with one of his rubby ducks, and though he didn't cry (Chris and I laughed when it happened), he certainly had a look on his face that clearly read, "That was so not cool."

Anyway, I was excited about Water Day. I prepped his clothes, got him dressed in his new swim trunks, put on his water shoes, slathered him in sunscreen, and got him out the door. (It's also Fish Stick Friday, so I had to pack his lunch of mini meatloaf patties, too. They look just like little crab cakes, but they're mini meatloafs - and they're really yummy!)

So, just as all the kids are ready to go outside, one of the teachers asks me about his towel. Doh! I washed it but completely forgot to bring it! And, of course, he can't participate in water days without it!

Never fear, though - Mommy's gym bag is in the car, complete with a towel (and two changes of Mommy-size clothes), so I ran out to my car, grabbed the towel, and brought it to his class. Success! Now my little boy can go outside with all the other kids.

Once we got outside, I saw what Water Days is all about: a giant inflatable ball hooked up to a water hose that sprays water everywhere. Oh, and there were a couple of water tables with little water toys in them.

The older kids were having a blast. (By "older", I mean more than 14 months.) They were running to and fro excitedly, eager to play in the sprinklers. The Boy, on the other hand, didn't know what to make of it. I led him to a spot in the shade where the sprinklers were shooting water, and he stood there, contemplating the situation, for about 30 seconds before he decided getting splashed by an unfamiliar object several yards away was simply not fun. He started leading me to the classroom door, pointing and demanding, "Eh! Eh!"

I brought him closer to the inflatable ball and encouraged him to touch the water. This worked for a little while (I got very wet, myself), but he really wasn't into it. Thankfully, one of the teachers took over and let me head back into the dryness of the classroom. I observed for a while longer with two other mothers through the windows. The Boy sat very still on a plastic blue horse, content to watch all the other kids. Every time a teacher tried to engage him (and they all did), he screwed up his face and protested with loud cries.

[sigh]

We might need to do our own version of Water Days at home to get him a little better acclimated. Maybe if he sees that Mommy and Daddy don't mind getting wet - and actually have fun in the water - he won't be so anxious about the sprinklers at school.

I've been saying The Boy is 14 months old for some time now, but today is his 14-month birthday.

Let's see... What is The Boy doing these days?

The most exciting thing is that he's walking very well these days. He's walking less like Frankenstein or the Mummy and more like someone who's had a little too much to drink, but he's more stable each day. I came home a little earlier than usual today, and he walked as quickly as he could from the other side of the house to greet me. If he could run, he would have. It's nice to get greetings like that!

Also of note is that this child is constantly talking. If it's hereditary, he got it from me. Don't expect him to talk on command, though. He's not a trained seal.

The Boy now has 12 teeth. Well, okay, only 11 - but #12 is right there and just waiting to come out. That last tooth is is lower left lateral incisor, and you just know he's anxious for it to come out by the way he sticks his fingers in his mouth as if to try and ease the pain. But as far as teething goes, he's been a champ. A very drooly champ, but a champ nonetheless.

He's doing exceptionally well sleeping through the night. It's not uncommon now for him to sleep soundly for 11 hours straight. If I'm really lucky, he's down for as many as 13. And bedtime is like clockwork for him. If we're not beginning the end-of-day routine by 7, he let's us know. And if he's not in bed by 7:30, well, let's just say he becomes a very cranky little man.

Daycare is going well. His teachers absolutely adore him and continuously remind Chris and me what a great child he is. They also like to marvel at this child's appetite (most people do) and assure me each morning that he is does a great job eating his lunch and snacks each day. He's recently started reacting to bananas, though, so those have (sadly) been shelved for a while. Not to worry - he enjoys eating peaches, pears, and watermelon, too, and is still a big fan of applesauce. He's been in this strange mode where he refuses to eat green beans at home but he's still eating them at school. It's the same thing with carrots, but he'll eat one or two before tossing them to the floor.

Right now he's getting over a cold and recovering from hand, foot and mouth disease. The latter sounds worse than it really is; he had a blister on his left hand and, we learned after taking him to the doctor, some blisters in his throat. The symptoms began showing up last weekend, and, just as the books and websites said, they're starting to go away. Thankfully, he hasn't been kicked out of school for it, though they sent him home last week because of his banana reaction... One's contagious, the other isn't. Go figure. Anyway, his doctor told us to go ahead and let him go back to school since that's where he contracted it, anyway - and if he was already symptomatic, chances are all the other kids already have it. You gotta love daycare.

It's amazing to think that I've been back at work now for just a little more than a year. It's hard to believe that a year ago, he was still so helpless and completely dependent. Now, he's far from helpless and only partially dependent - though don't tell him that because he won't believe you and would probably throw himself down on the ground for a hearty tear-free cry.

Tonight was a big surprise for Chris and me.

After a smaller than usual dinner of cheese, bananas, and pears (hey - at least it's healthy), I started gathering The Boy's things for the last diaper change of the day and a change into pajamas. Once I had everything in place (in the family room, of course, because there's really no better place to change a little toddler), Chris put on Yo! Gabba Gabba, and The Boy immediately cruised over to the TV the instant the opening song began playing. Chris put out his arms to catch him, asking, "What's this?"

Much to our surprise, The Boy answered, "Oh Ababa!"

I immediately called my sister to tell her. Funny moments like these have to be shared.

[sigh] My little boy is certainly not a baby anymore!

(For those who recognize the source of this entry's title, yes, The Boy listened to it quite a bit while in the womb... and a little bit outside the womb, too.)

We hit a major milestone this weekend.

Yesterday, Bekki was kind enough to accompany me out of the house with The Boy to visit the Red Dot Boutique. With Saturday being the awful, awful day that it was, I sorely needed to get out of the house before I went crazy. (And after listening to my toddler screaming like bloody hell every time I brought a wipe anywhere near his bum, I wanted nothing more than to get out of the house and look at something different, something not in or anywhere near my hosue.) Chris had some pre-existing plans with his old roommates and The Boy's tummy seemed better (he was passing gas again, always a good sign), so I braved an excursion with The Boy in tow.

Bekki and I circled the store several times, and The Boy was most intrigued with the giant Converse star hanging from the ceiling in one section. Each time we passed it, he would point up at it, and I would say, "That's a star." Then he would kind of grunt and we'd go on our merry way.

The third time we passed under the star, he pointed up and said, very clearly, "Stah." I was so impressed and so excited, I gave him a big hug and praised him for being so clever and so smart. "Yes, C, that is a star! Very good!"

But it doesn't stop there.

This morning, after I changed his diaper (more screaming) and dressed him, he crawled to his shoes and held them up to me. "Soos!" he said. Again, I was elated. "Yes, C, those are your shoes! Will you bring them to me?" He looked at the shoes, handed me one, and said, "Soo." I was so proud.

I know it's not the soliloquy from Hamlet, but it's a start!

After dropping The Boy off at his regular classroom, I went across the building to see his new teacher and check on how he did the previous day.

"He did great!" she told me. "And he's such a good eater! He really likes food, doesn't he?"

I had to laugh inwardly. He does, indeed, like food - as long as it's food he likes. Last night's steamed zucchini, for example, was not a favorite of his. Neither was the vegetable medley with pasta that came out of a jar. But give him food he likes, and he's happy to eat his weight and then some.

Anyway, it appears yesterday went fairly smoothly. He sat quietly during Circle Time. He willingly sat at the table to eat his lunch (including second helpings). He awoke from his nap crying (I forgot to tell them this child does not do well waking under the best circumstances), but settled down after a good amount of cuddling, and then he played by himself for a while until the some other kids awoke. And he drank from the sippy cups there with no problems!

The only thing to which I'll need to adjust is how much more he is drinking (and thus peeing)! If I didn't have him in a cloth diaper last night - with a doubler insert to boot - I am certain he would have needed a diaper change every two hours, and probably would have leaked through each of those.

But it appears he will make the transition just fine. It's going to be much more difficult for me, I know. I really like his current teachers a lot, and I'll probably make a point (for a little while, at least) of going over there once a week to see them.

... and it's barely 3 o'clock!

The Boy has discovered a new skill: he can now walk behind his push-toys. (I don't know what else to call them because they're not exactly walkers, but they're designed for wee ones to stand behind them and, well, walk.)

I had an idea he was ready to do it Friday morning when I took him to school. I tried to get him to sit down in one place, but he kept moving his legs, propelling us both forward. When I got home that evening, I watched him interact with one of his push-toys, and saw that he was pulling himself up on it. I pointed it out to Chris, and he suggested we bring him to the living room and let him loose.

Well, he's been wanting to push his toys ever since. And if he's not in the mood to do that, he'll do laps around the coffee table and send to the ground everything within reach (which, you have to understand, is just about everything on the coffee table - he's figured out how to stretch on tip-toe).

The upside to all of this activity, of course, is that it's tiresome (for both of us, but mostly, I think, for him), and he's back to taking two naps a day. Well, he took two naps yesterday and is down for his second one today, but I suppose we'll have to see what he does at school before we can officially say he's back to two naps a day. The other amazing thing, of course, is that these are long naps - we're talking two hour naps here! (Yesterday, about twenty minutes after putting him down for his first nap, I left to run errands at Target and Lowes. I was gone almost two hours. When I came home, he was still asleep!)

Today, I'm exhausted because I was very busy yesterday (though I couldn't tell you what I did), and I've spent the late morning (after my own nap, which I took while he was napping) and the early afternoon trying to get some laundry done. Of course, now that he's napping, I've already got a load in both the washer and the dryer, and I've got a pile of clothes to fold, too, but I can always fold clothes while watching him flip through magazines.

I feel like the worst mother in the world. But I know that I'm not.

As of Wednesday, Baby C is now 11 months old. This means, at school, that he will begin the transitioning process to the Yearling (Toddler) class in two weeks.

Here's the list of things he needs to have accomplished before they can accept him in the Toddler class:

• Must be able to feed himself
• Must be able to walk well
• Must be able to understand directions
• Must be able to drink from sippy cup
• Must be able to eat table food

The first, he can do... sort of. He's not fond of utensils, save for throwing them and banging them on the table or high chair tray. But he's a pro at feeding himself rice cakes, oyster crackers, Chex cereal, and other small bits of food.

Check.

The second, he's not so proficient at doing. Let's face it: the kid just started crawling a month ago. He's very good at crawling and is quite mobile, but aside from his attempts at cruising (he does very well until he wants to grab a hold of something else), he's not a walker. Yet.

So, no check... yet.

The third, he can do, though he doesn't always obey. The other day, his teachers were telling him to be nice and give me a hug (he was very mad at me; I had attacked him that morning with the saline spray and the evil green suction bulb), and rather than going to me, he stood (sat) his ground and started to cry out of frustration instead.

So, check.

The fourth, I've been working with him on this since December. Let's face it: he's not overly crazy about sippy cups. This morning, though, he successfully drank four ounces of milk from his sippy cup (he had a very dry breakfast of Rice Chex), so we might be making progress there.

So, no check... yet.

As for the fifth, I'm happy to report that he had his very first completely grown-up meal yesterday: half of a quesadilla (courtesy of Dad), green beans, a little water (from a sippy cup), and milk (okay, the milk wasn't exactly grown-up food). More importantly, he fed himself the quesadilla, though I had to help him with the green beans. The thing is, I took a copy of the school lunch menu, and there are a number of things on the menu that simply aren't in his diet yet. Fish sticks? No. Salad? No. Beef stew? No. Tater tots or mashed potatoes? Fine, if you can get him to eat them - but he hates potatoes, so, no. Vanilla wafers and animal crackers? Definitely not.

So, while, yes, he can eat table food, I don't like the table food they're going to give him. But I'll happily pack a cold/room temperature lunch for him each day. Does this mean he doesn't get a check on this?

The worst part, though, is that one of the directors spoke with me at length yesterday about these benchmarks, and I felt this small after our talk. (Oh, and I was really late getting to work, too.) It's not like I'm doing anything to impede his development - that's the very last thing I would want to do! He needs to grow and learn and develop at his own pace, and if it means he's not walking for another two or three months, so be it. (Though, I have a feeling that within a week after discovering he can walk, Baby C will figure out how to run.)

Starting next week, he'll strictly be on a sippy cup at school (though I'll provide empty bottles in case he's completely refusing them - there's no use in letting him get dehydrated), and I'm already scouring my cookbooks for table foods that I can make for him to eat. That's the most I can do to help him transition. The rest is up to him.

And at this age, no amount of coaxing, begging, or bribing can make him do anything sooner than he's ready to do. In another year, however...

My little boy was stretched out in his crib last night, fast asleep. "He looks so long," I thought to myself. I went to chest of drawers and pulled out my trusty tape measure. Very carefuly, I laid it beside him, the end at the top of his head, and stretched it to his feet.

Thirty inches.

It's official. My little boy is about half my height already. I have very few years left when I'll be able to say (as I do now), "I'm bigger than you, little one. You can't fight me on this."

Thirty inches.

At his last well-baby appointment, he was 27-3/4 inches. This means that in less than two months, he's already grown more than two inches. No wonder he looks so scrunched up in his footed pajamas now!

[sigh] I guess I know where all the food has gone now, besides the dirty diapers. The funny thing is that just the other day, Chris said to me, "He's getting really pudgy." And we all know that little children who are fairly slender under normal circumstances only start to beef up right before a major spurt.

So, my baby is very quickly outgrowing his "baby" status. He's now pulling himself up on everything he sees, and he has also just begun to cruise. One day he'll let go completely and discover he can balance himself on his two legs, and soon after that, he'll discover his little legs can move much faster than Mommy's or Daddy's can.

But for now, I'm enjoying this in-between stage. He's not quite a baby, yet not quite a toddler, either. The latter will come all too soon.

In just more than two weeks, Baby C has added quite a few things to his repertoire.

While I was in the Philippines, he sat up on his own.

He also started crawling, combat style.

Last week, he began defending himself (and his space) from other kids at school. Sure, he still wails to let someone know his space has been invaded, but he also doesn't hesitate to whack the other kid in the head and/or take back something taken from him.

Thursday afternoon, Chris sent me a text message to let me know that Baby C was crawling properly, on all fours. Sure enough, when I came home from work, I was greeted by a little boy who, despite being tired, was still eager to show me he could crawl. It just took him a long time.

Saturday morning, he decided to pull himself up to a standing position. Of course, he was so pleased with himself that he threw his arms up in the air (something Chris and I do when we're happy - I don't know why), lost his balance, and fell headfirst into a box that was on a chair. Needless to say, it startled him quite a bit, but he wasn't physically hurt (only his pride). He didn't succeed again for the rest of the weekend, though, so Chris still hasn't seen this latest stunt.

This morning, I put him down in the hallway outside his classroom and held the door open, coaxing him to crawl into the room on his own. Once he got over the initial shock of no longer being held, he quickly crawled into the room and made a beeline for my keys, much to the surprise and delight of his teacher.

All of this activity, however, means that our routine needs to be re-established once again. Yesterday, he adamantly refused to go down for a nap or anything else whenever I attempted to put him in his crib. But if Chris did it, he complied. He is also still hungry and cranky after a mere seven ounces of food, and it seems like he's eating more often again. I don't understand how a person whose stomach is supposed to be the size of a plum is able to cram into it almost 4-1/2 ounces of avocado, 2-1/2 ounces of applesauce, and at least 2 ounces of milk, but he's somehow able to do it. This morning, he had at least 3 ounces of milk, 4 ounces of yogurt, and 4 ounces of banana. After breakfast, his tummy was still a little squishy, like he could stand to have another ounce or so. Where does this all go?

Anyway, Baby C is growing and thriving, and it seems he's becoming more active every moment. My little baby is well on his way to becoming a full-fledge little boy. [sigh]

At least the kitchen is baby-proofed. (I activated all the locks yesterday when he discovered he could open the cabinets.) There's just a few hundred other things to cover or bolt into place now.