Suck it

Last night, Matt turned to me as we were sitting on the futon upstairs and said, "I can't believe how different the boys are."

And it is true. Grant is a horse of a different color in many respects. Sure, he's currently not a fan of the bottle (same as Cooper) and is very big and strong (same as Cooper). But he's also extremely positive, cheery, and independent- as opposed to Cooper's rather delicate, easily irritated, and very needy nature as an infant. If you put Grant down in the bed while he's tired, he'll usually coo and giggle for a while, then whine and grunt, and then fall silent- sleeping. If you put him on the couch to look at the world when he's fed and calm, he'll sit there for almost 15 minutes, just gripping the edge of a blanket and watching things go by. Cooper wasn't capable of that kind of poise until he was about, oh, 18 months.

But lately, something new has cropped up. Grant is a thumbsucker. It is hilarious to Matt and me. We had no idea how incredibly intense the need to thumbsuck could be. Grant loves it to the extreme. Last night, he sucked his thumb HARD for almost 45 minutes before falling asleep.

We've started doing sort of a rakish half-swaddle to allow Grant his thumb. His right arm is still pinned down hard to his body by the blanket, but his left is free to indulge in thumbsucking. And suck he does. This morning he sucked the life out of that thing, eyes screwed shut, otherwise peaceful, for two hours. Unreal.

I do realize that there is the potential for me to be pretty unhappy with this habit when he's about three years old. But whatever. It is very clear to me that he needs his thumb. Cooper never gave a second look at his thumb- it held zero appeal. Grant though, he's got a buddy, and it is his left thumb.

It was nine in the morning

Grant is a sweet kid. His idea of a good time is being tickled on the belly when you change his diaper, or admiring the extremely handsome baby that lives in the bathroom mirror. But by far the most amazing part about him is his love for sleep, and the relative ease with which he falls asleep. Last night he went to sleep around 8:30pm, woke up at 5:30am to nurse for about a half an hour, and then slept until NINE. 9. In the morning. Outrageous.

Then, he got fussy around 10:15, so I nursed him, did his diaper, patted his back, swaddled him up, and put him in bed. After five minutes of whining and grunting in annoyance, he was peacefully asleep again for his morning nap.

I know things change, and that he might outgrow his love for sleep, or outgrow his miraculous ability to fall asleep without either being continuously held, rocked, or nursed. But good lord is it convenient and wonderful right now!

Farewell, zits. Hello, hair loss.

Two things have happened nearly simultaneously here in the Radwood household.

1. Grant's baby acne is now a thing of the past. Finally! Poor kid has been zitty for almost two months! He now has gorgeously rosy baby skin that is completely smooth and soft.

2. I'm losing hair by the handful. It is gross. I hate this part of the postpartum process. Matt already had to "drano" the tub because it was draining too slow. Blech. Time to get out the special ultra fine drain-hair-catcher-thingy and start brushing my hair twice a day to contain the mess. Soon, if it is like last time, my hairline will even recede a little. I do know it will all grow back, but seriously, yuck.

Funnier by the day

The more Cooper speaks, and the bigger his vocabulary becomes, the more entertained I am by his antics.

We were jumping off the side of the deck while holding hands (a favorite activity, it is only about 18" up and we land in the grass) and I was counting to three, i.e. 1, 2, 3, JUMP! Then, Cooper decided it was "my hurn! my hurn!" and started counting for us. Using his own methods...

"1, 2, 3, DUMP!" (jumps) "Yaaaaaay!!! Boo fall down!"
"3, 4, 8, DUMP!" (jumps) "Yaaaaaay!!! Boo dumping! den!!" (den = "again")
over and over and over again.

He is very consistent that proper Cooper counting is either 1 2 3 4 8 or rarely 1 2 3 4 7 8. We tell him that 5 comes next all the time, to no avail. No mention of 6.

So, after a while, I got a little tired of jumping off the deck. So I suggested he try to do it himself like a big boy. He looked excited at the idea.

This is what happened next.

"1, 2, 3, 4... 8... DUMP!" (bends knees. gets nervous. stands up and looks at me.) "No. Too high. No mama. No Boo hurt. Too high. Need mama hand. HAAAAAND!!" (I give him my hand) "Yaaay! Boo dump! Dump!" (jumps flawlessly to the ground) "YAaaaaaay!!!!"

This is why I'm not too worried about the kid's safety. At a mere 18" off the ground, he refuses to jump off the deck without holding my hand because he's concerned he might get hurt. Almost shocking, really. It does confirm my notion that the two foot tall stack of bricks in the backyard may not be entirely safe, but given the quirks of my rather careful child, is also not a major liability.

Moo and Wah

I've officially begun the process of becoming a registered Human Milk Donor! Neat! I'll need to fill out an enormous form, get permission slips from my midwife and Grant's doctor, get a blood test, and pump at least 150 extra ounces of milk over the next 3 months. I also have to make sure to not donate milk that I pump up to 12 hours after I take an advil or tylenol. But aside from those rules and errands, this should be pretty easy for me, and I'll be helping sick babies. Very cool!

My excitement is mediated a little bit by the fact that I have to go back to work in two weeks. It isn't that I don't like my job (I do like it, very much), it is just that I really love the freedom and fun of not having a job. Parenting Grant is easy right now, and Cooper is fun and adorable most of the time (and a normal, demanding, toddler the rest of the time) and it is just that, well, if we could afford it, I wouldn't go back to work for a long, long time.

But we can't. And I'm fortunate to have a great job, a great husband, and the flexibility to go back part time. So I guess I should try to focus on those positives.

Also, my home office is getting closer to functionality. Insulation is 50% done, flooring is purchased, and we are getting there. Me being in the office by the 4th is doubtful, but not impossible.

In contrast

This morning was also delightful, with the small exception that at about 7:45am Grant gagged indelicately on some phlegm and then forcefully vomited apparently a gallon of curdled milk all over my chest, stomach, and lap as well as the bed sheets. I yelped, "Oh gross- help!" Matt groggily got up, stumbled around for a moment, and started to hand me a tiny washcloth. I said, "No dear, this is more like 'bath towel' level." To his credit, he can't see squat without his glasses on.

After cleanup was complete, we had pancakes and coffee. Lovely.

Set the scene

It is 8:34am. The sun is shining in through our big front window.

Cooper is asleep.
Matt is asleep.
Grant has fallen back asleep in bed with Matt.

I'm watching streaming video of local Missoula bakery owner win the showcase showdown on the Price is Right, while making banana whole-wheat waffles on our Belgian style waffle iron.

I love Fridays!

Two month appointment

Grant had his two month checkup today, and as usual, he's doing really well. He's on target or surpassing all his motor control milestones like watching objects that move, lifting his head, grabbing at objects, etc. And just as we suspected, he's still really big. He's 95% for weight, which is consistent with his previous weights, and is 13 pounds and 13 ounces. He's at about 80% for height, which is again pretty consistent for him with other measurements. The doctor said "He looks very healthy" and that despite his lingering eye discharge issues (he had an eye infection, and then that turned into pretty severe blocked tear ducts) his eyes look quite good at this point and I should not worry about it at all. Excellent!

Cooper was such a doll this morning when he got out of bed. Adorable. "Mama, open window! Mama, pick up baby crying! Mama, Cooper muffin?"

And then, of course, the usual useless, endless, discussion of whether or not I would be willing to let him wear his dino-pj's all day (which I never do, but he always asks).

Cooper: Cooper dinosaur pajamas?
Me: You need to wear pants and socks.
Cooper: No socks. Dinosaur pajamas.
Me: Sorry Cooper. Let's pick out a pair of pants and socks.
Cooper: No pants. No socks. Dinosaur pajamas.
Me: Truck socks! You love truck socks!
Cooper: Mama striped socks. Cooper no socks. Cooper dinosaur pajamas.
Me: You are wearing pants today. And socks.
Cooper: No no no no no no dinosaur pajamas!!!!!!

Roll over!

Grant has done it! In a fit of annoyance at being left on his belly for too long, he pitched over and got onto his back. Congratulations Grant! And good problem solving, too!

Normally, he likes being on his belly. He is great at lifting his head and shoulders in a partial push-up, and is content like that for a pretty long time. Sometimes he slumps down and dozes off, which is adorable. If I set him up on the couch just right, so that his eyes are at chest level to Cooper, then Grant gets really excited to watch Cooper run around the house and his eyes are like saucers. It is great to see him already idolizing his big bro- I figure this will last us another 10 years or so. And Cooper sometimes goofs around and gets onto the couch next to him and imitates him, which is so dang funny. I took a picture- it is on my Kodak site- of the two of them doing "tummy time" together. Hilarious.

Farewell, Tweedy

It is off topic, but I feel compelled... Ms. Tweedy, one of our oldest and meanest chickens, died last night. She's been in bad health (crappy looking feathers, bad posture, droopy personality) for weeks now, so it came as no surprise. And she is/was almost 3 years old, which is, ahem, no spring chicken. But it is still sad. For a while she was our best egg layer. She was mean from the start, remarkably homely, and had a penchant for biting fingers, but was fair to her fellow hens and was never loud or obnoxious. We'll miss her.

Cooper loves to carry a single egg - he prefers brown eggs - from the nest boxes to the fridge and then pick which hole in the egg carton it belongs in. This is a very zen question, as it turns out. Near other eggs, or all alone? Next to one the same color, or a different color? Diagonally from the other eggs, or directly adjacent? Cooper seems to really need to think deeply about this. Sometimes I can hear him murmuring softly as he contemplates which spot the egg should reside in "no... egg... brown... no... yeah. dat hole."

It takes him long enough that now I take the 18 hole carton out, place it on the kitchen floor, and just leave him alone to make this apparently heavy decision. Then he tries to put it back (which courts disaster) and I have to help him lift it and get it back onto the shelf. Overall, it seems to be something he really enjoys, and for whatever reason, something that requires a lot of careful thinking.

they grow up so fast

Grant is growing like a weed. His latest achievements include smiling on purpose, holding his head very steadily while in a sitting position, and standing on our laps (with lots of help) so that he can watch his brother's shenanigans. He also enjoys making adorable baby coos and goos, and is rapidly outgrowing all his current clothing. I need to find the 3-9month box STAT because we are very quickly tossing things into the too-small bin. I know that box is in the garage somewhere. I'm down to only about 3 shirts! YIKES.

He's also large. Big. Did I mention he's a big kid? I figure he weighs about 14 pounds. And he feels like a little football when you hold him- all sturdy and round. It is actually mildly alarming how fast he's growing. I know Cooper was the same way, but I had forgotten the really amazingly fast rate that they get bigger. It is shocking. And I had also forgotten how I sort of mourn the out-growing of certain favorite clothing. Whaddya mean this super adorable shirt doesn't fit? It just fit last week... oh... yes, it is not supposed to be 3/4 sleeved. Sigh. Maybe it will fit on a doll or something someday.

the sleeper

The only one in this house that gets to sleep in consistently is Cooper. Last night was the first night of Ultimate, so Cooper got to stay up late watching mom run around on the fields. He also went for a long walk around the fields with dad to try to make Grant fall sleep in the stroller. Lots of doggies to look at.

Result? A kid that went to bed at almost 9pm (and slept like a rock) wakes up at... wait for it... 9:45am. Bright and sunny, demanding that I let him pour the cereal into the bowl all by himself.

I'm jealous. So is Matt, who had an 8:30am training across town.