Monday, December 26

The Big-Kid Bed

That whole big-kid bed thing? Exhausting. Let me tell you how our first night went.

It started out okay. I read to Milo like usual, then snuggled him like usual, then laid him down in his big enormous bed. He actually was pretty good about it. He laid down without a fuss and went to sleep like normal. I was a little emotional, and before I went to bed I peeked in on him, just to watch him sleep in such a huge bed for the first time. And all was well until about 4:00am, when I awoke to the sound of my frantic child screaming his damn head off.

He had fallen off the bed and wedged himself, head down, between the mattress and the dresser. He was stuck and couldn't right himself. It was all pretty much over after that. Even after being rescued, pacified, and diaper-freshened, he couldn't calm down. I went in and sat with him and tried to convince him to lay back down and go to sleep. He either wanted to jump on the bed or flip out and cry. After ten minutes of this, I did get him to lay down, so I quickly made my exit. But half an hour later, he was awake (again or still, I'm not sure). Upset again, it looked like he needed a little extra comfort. And since it was his first night without the crib, I indulged him and sat down next to him.

For awhile, he refused to lay down and calm down. He just kept sitting up, staring off into the ceiling and saying "ghost! ghost!" in a worried voice. I gotta say, he was kind of freaking me out with the ghost thing. And he was not seeming tired at all. After awhile, I was ready to give up. I figured maybe if I wasn't there, he would have no one to entertain or be entertained by and might lay down and go to sleep. I told him that it wasn't time to wake up yet, so Mommy was going to go back to bed and he could lay down when he was ready.

He freaked out, saying "No, Mommy!" and flung himself on top of me. So I hugged him and rubbed his back, and literally 30 seconds later he was out, snoring in my ear. I held him like that for about five minutes, but he was sort of on my throat and I had to move him. I shifted him over so he was laying on the bed, which of course woke him up and we were back to freaked-out Milo. I pulled him back toward me and snuggled him close, and again he fell asleep immediately. So this is it, I thought. I'm here for the rest of the night. I had his teeny blanket over my feet and an even teenier blanket sort of over my shoulder, but I was freezing. Milo got about another hour, maybe hour and a half, of sleep, but I pretty much barely dozed. 

I have to say, though, I enjoyed cuddling with Milo like that. He hasn't actually fallen asleep on me since he was much, much younger. It felt good to be the only thing that would comfort him.

And of course in the morning we praised him for being such a big boy and told him how proud we were that he slept in his big-kid bed. We're hoping the positive reinforcement will go a long way. Night 2 was tougher, he didn't want to lay down at all, then woke up way too early and couldn't go back to sleep. And naptimes have been...short. Tonight is night 3, and he laid down without a fuss. Crossing my fingers that he sleeps straight through the night without incident. We're all way too tired for the 4am wake-up call.

Friday, December 23

I don't want him to grow up.

I just laid Milo down in his crib for the very last time. Then I cried big fat tears. Tomorrow night Milo is moving to his big-kid bed, a twin mattress on the floor. And I am not liking seeing my baby grow up. Right this second, picturing him laying there in his crib tonight, I'm tearing up again. He's getting so big, but he's still so small. He's still my baby, even though I keep telling him what a big boy he is. I wonder if seeing him tomorrow night in his enormous bed will make me believe it.

Thursday, December 22

Belly Update

Here's me at 33 weeks, 2 days, wearing one of the few shirts that easily covers my entire belly. Can someone please explain to me why MATERNITY CLOTHES quit fitting at around 30 weeks?

Wednesday, December 21

Milo's 21-Month Update

Wow, this monthly update caught me by surprise. How can it be the 21st already? Didn't I just write one of these updates?

What is Milo up to these days? He's huge, for one. Likely still hovering around 30-32 pounds, and getting taller all the time. He is maybe half an inch from bonking his head on the underside of our kitchen counter. I dread the day he first stands up under the counter and hits his head. Hard. There will be much howling and shedding of tears.

Physically, Milo is active. He runs, he jumps, he climbs. Sometimes he seems to push himself to see just what he can do. The other day he was leaning on the coffee table, then decided to put his feet up on the couch. So his feet on the couch, his hands on the coffee table, he pushed himself up into a pyramid. Made me nervous. Did not want to see him slip and bang his entire face on the table.

Speaking of that, Milo almost always has a bruise somewhere. He is currently sporting a large bruise just under his eyebrow, another on his cheek, some scratches along his jawline, and a large bruise on his forearm. I only know of the origins of one of these battle scars. 

Milo is getting pretty good at testing the limits. He knows he should not get near the fireplace when it is hot, but he'll just barely perch on the edge of the hearth, then look at me slyly, wondering if I'm going to tell him no. It's really time for me and Andrew to figure out our plan for disciplining, as reminding him over and over again what is against the rules is not really getting us anywhere. Milo is a good kid, and he generally doesn't keep trying to do the misbehavior when we tell him to stop, but it's that five or ten minutes later he's doing it again that is problematic. I'm afraid he's just going to be running over us before long if we don't learn how to reinforce the rules (of which there are not many, really).

Milo loves music. He is always asking for a song. Whining for a song, really. He is especially entranced by the musical tabletop Christmas tree decoration we have, and will demand "more song" over and over. And every time we say "Ask nicely, Milo. What do you say?" and he frantically slaps at his chest, giving the sign for please. Man, he loves that tree. He also loves dancing, and does this awesome dance where he madly swings his arms, kind of twisting around and bouncing. The other day he was exuberantly clapping when a song came on, and he accidentally whacked me in the face. 

He seems to have really picked up on the concept of Santa Claus in the last couple of weeks. "An Cwaus," he says, "oh, oh, oh." He recognizes reindeer. He thoroughly enjoys listening to the book Grandma and Grandpa recorded for him last year, Hallmark's "The Night Before Christmas" Recordable Storybook. At the end he waves to Santa and says "Byebye An Cwaus."

Language continues to get better and better. Pronunciation is better, he is always using new words or new phrases. He has started saying "uh-oh, spaghetti o's," though it sounds more like "uh-oh, etti o's." He uses adjectives all the time and is figuring out how to describe objects. He crosses his arms and says "Brrrr, cold," and shivers. He has trouble getting all the sounds or syllables in when he's trying to say something with a lot of them. Snowman becomes no-man. Dinosaur is dine-saur. Bathtub is Ath-tub His r's often sound like w's. Twuck. Twee. He makes animal sounds out of nowhere and has started panting like a puppy. He's utterly charming.
He still likes to give my belly kisses. Not sure how much he knows about the upcoming baby. He has repeated her name, but can't tell you what it is if you ask (so don't even try!). We're moving Milo to his big boy bed, a twin mattress on the floor, in just a couple days. I have no idea how he's going to do with this. We've been reading a lot about how Elmo went from a crib to a big kids' bed, so I hope that's helping prepare him.

He has peed on the potty about three times. We always give him an opportunity to sit on the potty before he gets in the bathtub, and so far those three times have been purely accidental. But we make a big freaking deal about how great it was that he did that and how big he's getting and all that, and this last time he actually clapped along with Daddy and seemed to soak up the praise. And he occasionally comments out of the blue, "peepee," and sort of touches his pants, and we're pretty sure that he knows he just peed. All good steps toward potty training, I think, though it's still a ways off realistically. 

Milo is definitely getting to be a little toddler with his own opinions. He equally charms and frustrates me on a daily basis. Sometimes I have absolutely no idea what to do with him, and I think, really? We're really about to have another and I haven't even figured out the first one yet? But I suppose I'll never figure it out. He's always going to be throwing another curve ball at me. And that's just fine by me.

Wednesday, December 14

I should get out more, if this is all I have to talk about.

This morning Milo took a shower with Daddy, then, just like every time he showers with Daddy, he ran around naked until Andrew got dressed. Except this morning was not like every other time. This time Milo came into the bedroom (where I was still in bed), played with the buttons on my alarm clock, then squatted, grunted, and pooped on the floor. Then he stepped on the poop.

Andrew scooped up Milo and took him into the other room to get cleaned up and diapered. I cleaned the poop from the carpet. And after it was all over with, my only thought was, "Huh, I really should've taken a picture of the poop before picking it up." Ah, parenthood.

Wednesday, December 7


Oh my, are these hormones making me crazy today! I have cried at no fewer than four blog posts, and I'm just a big pile of sap.

Plus, I desperately want to organize our pantry, but every evening I lack the energy to do much more than try to find a position on the couch where my back doesn't hurt. I guess my nesting instinct isn't quite strong enough yet for me to get motivated to actually do any pantry organizing. How many weeks along do you suppose I need to be for that? It better kick in soon, because my balance is already shot to hell, and organizing the pantry involves a lot of stooping and standing and reaching way into the back to grab (and discard) the years-old lentils that are still hanging around for some unknown reason. But the pantry must get organized soon. I have cookies to bake, and I need to know just how much brown sugar we have.