Learning how to be a kid again

It's amazing to me when I look back at Evan's pictures from when we first brought him home just a short 17 months ago and the boy he has grown into today. The worst part about Evan growing up is the snuggle time gets shorter by the day. The best part, though is watching him learn and watching him play.

When we grow up, start families, our careers, etc., it seems that life can suck the fun right out of you. Even worse, its like you forget how to be a kid and just have fun with whatever is in front of you. Evan is teaching me how to be goofy again. Whether it's jumping on the bed - which is his personal playground - or playing the "I'm gonna get you game" where we run up and down the hall, it's nice to come home from a long day of seriousness and, for a short amount of time before he goes to bed, be a kid again.

As adults, when else can you play with stuffed animals, throw the ball in the house, read Dr. Seuss or just squeal in delight, than when you are with a little toddler? It's a great atmosphere to come home to, which sounds crazy coming from me, knowing how I felt about the idea of having kids just a few years ago.

Evan's favorite thing now is doing a little dance that Brian and I call the "Evan Irish Jig." He just starts moving his feet up and down SO FAST and just howling with amusement of his own imagination. He also has discovered the phenomenon of dizziness. He'll spin around and then just crash into things. He loves it and finds it funny. I find him very funny and a fantastic dance party.

I recently put up one of those digital picture frames in my cube at work, filled with photos of Evan just being himself - from his first week until now. When I am having a long day, it reminds me of our goofy times together with Brian, and what I can look forward to when I get home. It's also a good reminder not to take myself so stinkin' seriously and just relax and have fun!

The art of the fall

Memorial day weekend was definitely memorable for many reasons, but for purposes of this post I'll keep with the subject referenced in the title. I fell for the first time - and hopefully the last time - with Evan in my arms.

It was Saturday morning and I was rushing around. Friday night when I put Evan to bed, I shut his drapes. Apparently, complete and total darkness helps ensure Evan sleeps until 7:30ish or later. He had been waking up at 6 am without fail for two weeks straight. This one little change changed the sleep pattern. Normally, Evan sleeping in is a good thing. It wasn't on Saturday. I needed to drive up to Excelsior and drop him off at my brother and sister-in-law's house, then head to Overland Park to get ready for a wedding, pick the bride up, make sure she was ready and make sure to get her to the place on time.

Evan slept in and we rushed. When I had him up, fed, dressed and myself showered, dressed and somewhat put together, I loaded up the car. Then I grabbed Evan and all of his stuff. His stuff accounted for a full diaper bag, a grocery bag full of some baby food and other snacky snacks and toys. I also had my purse and a newly filled travel mug filled with piping hot coffee.

I grabbed Evan and all of the remaining stuff and headed out the door. I dropped the keys, which meant I had to put Evan down, grab them, lock the door then scoop him back up and head out.

There are four steps from our back gate down to the driveway. I think I missed them all. Suddenly laying on the ground, my first thought - fear, actually - was that I just killed or severely injured Evan. Nope. He was sitting on me. Just looking around. Not crying. No blood. No broken bones. No third-degree burns from spilled coffee. Not a worry in the world.

Thank God!

I was not in as good of shape. I really don't know what happened or how, but here is my best guess.

Based on how I landed and the blood and bruises (through JEANS no less), my knees took the worst of the fall and then I twisted to the side so Evan landed on me, instead of me on Evan. I think I must have thrown my coffee mug during the fall because it was half-way down the parking lot. The tops of my feet - right where foot meets leg - must have slammed down on the corner of the last step because both are bruised to this day.

My left elbow hurt worse than anything. After my knees hit, I must have caught myself with my elbow. I was convinced it was broken when we first hit, but amazingly there isn't even a scratch on it. Weird. Maybe the diaper bag helped break my fall.

After I knew Evan was okay came the difficult task of getting up. I wasn't sure if I could. Like I said, my knees took the worst and I was certain my elbow was broken. I didn't know if I could stand. But, I composed myself and slowly got up, gathered everything up, and kept moving. Aside from some pretty nasty bruises and a skinned up knee, I didn't have any injuries that a good dose of Advil couldn't handle.

Fast forward two days to Monday. Brian and I were both off of work and the Royals were just starting a home stand. We thought it would be the perfect day to take him to his first baseball game - and it was. We bought tickets down the third base line to ensure we would be in the shade. Before heading to the game, we hit Rally House to get him his first KC baseball hat. We've mentioned several times before that baby boy has a HUGE HEAD. His head was far too big for baby/toddler hats and we had to go straight to the Youth-size hats. It was a litte big, but much better than the skull-crushing baby sizes.

We went to the game and Evan did great. He ate a whole hot dog, tried some nachos, got a ball from someone on the Angel's training staff (third base is the visitor's dugout) and a certificate stating that May 30 Evan became an official Royal's fan by attending his first baseball game. He also got his first scraped up knee. Brian took up to the fan area in the outfield to walk around since he was getting restless in the seats. He fell but didn't cry. Brian said he wasn't phased by it at all.

It was as close to the perfect day as anyone could ever have. That evening, Brian and I had so much just playing with Evan and watch him chase Truman around the living room. It was getting close to bed time when Evan started fake falling. He would dance around and then collapse to the ground. He thought this was really funny and his laughter was contagious... until he fake falled head-first into the coffee table.

That brought us back to reality. Brian and I raced over to him. Brian got him first. He had an instant HUGE bruise down the middle of his forehead where he caught the corner. He cried and cried, but we eventually got him calmed down and put to bed.

All my friends and family with boys said to get use to the bruises and scraped knees as there will be many. They are right.

13 months (almost)

One of my favorite sports writers wrote a column, celebrating day 2 of the baseball season. In it, he said no one goes all crazy for Day 2 like they do for opening day. I guess the same could be said for hitting the almost 13-month milestone for your son or daughter. 13 months is just a day on the calendar and not one that is circled. There are no parties for 13 months - and most parents stop taking the monthly photo after 12. So, in Joe Posnanski's spirit this post celebrates the almost 13 month age of Evan.

I had grand plans to write a whole year-in-review, commemorating E's first birthday. Then life and a really ridiculous schedule got in the way. Today, I am preparing for my fourth or fifth work trip out of town since Evan was born, and the 1st of what will be three in May, and four in the next 10 weeks. I'm not complaining. All of the trips represent great opportunities for meeting personal and team goals this year. This Q2 schedule is just a bit frantic. On the plus side, 3 of the next four trips are in places where I have some friends from college, so we will likely get to have some brief reunions, which are always fun!

Yesterday, I was watching Evan and suddenly realized he's not a baby anymore. He's a toddler/little boy. WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN? He's much more independent and walking very well. He understands words, but doesn't really say them yet, except "KEEEY" for Frank the Cat. His Aunt Nor Nor bought him an inflatable penguin for Christmas. It has a heavy base, so its like one of those punching bags that always pops back up. He was afraid of it at first and now loves it! When we are in his room, I'll ask, "Evan, where's your penguin?" and he will go straight over to it, grab it and start playing with it.

Evan wants to feed himself most of the time now and has developed a love for peanut butter and ketchup (not together, but he prefers one of these items be on the food you are giving him). This is all Brian here. I am not a ketchup fan, and the only time I have a hankering for peanut butter is when I want a Reese's cup.

The boy is a climber and his parents and the world are his jungle gym. But I guess if we are going to celebrate being a boy and not a baby, this is the best part. Playing is so much FUN! You never know what he is going to find hysterical from one day to the next. Pillow fights are the thing right now. I'll gently go "boom boom boom" with one of the couch pillows to his tummy and you'd think, by the way he laughs, I was a professional comedienne.

The worst part about him being a little boy now and not a baby is the fact that he is a little boy now. He's fearless - and tough. Much tougher than myself. I have about 7 different heart attacks a day watching him take off across the living room and fall. I've learned that I can't leap the entire length of the condo in a single bound to catch him. I've done that and it hurts. I've also learned that I don't need to catch him. He falls down about once every 3 minutes. All we need to do is steer him away from potential head traumas and let him figure out the rest. And don't react when he does fall. If you say "ooh, or eww!" he will cry. Say nothing and he sits back up 99% of the time and continues on like nothing happened.

As a little boy, he's also hell bent on terrorizing the pets. He grabbed a hold of Truman's ear yesterday and wouldn't let go. I had stepped out of the room to go switch out laundry and when I came back in, Truman was sitting beside Evan with a very distraught expression. Then I saw Evan's fist CLINCHING the poor dog's ear. Evan chases Frank under the dining room table and belly flops on him or grabs his tail (something Truman doesn't have). To Frank's credit, he's only scratched him once or twice and that was when E was trying to pull his tail off of his backside. We keep correcting him and hopefully he will learn how to be nice to the doggie and kitty.

Evan is figuring things out. When we went over to Nana Vada and Papa Tim's house after his first birthday party, he grabbed the remote (batteries removed) and pointed it at the TV. He was very upset when nothing happened. He's reaching for door knobs now and trying to turn and open them up. He's fascinated by lights and clocks. He can now climb onto the airplane toy Aunt Bridgett and Uncle Mark got him for his birthday and scoot it across the room. He's even in a big(ger) boy car seat now, having outgrown his infant seat.

So here's to my almost 13-month-old boy! 13 months is, indeed, a milestone. 13 months means not only have we survived and thrived through the first year, we are officially into the whole day-to-day life of parents.

While I may be a bit biased, I'm still quite certain he's among the cutest little boys on the planet. Proof is posted below. :)

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A note from Truman

Being the dog of the house isn't easy these days. When the "visitor" first arrived, he just stayed in Mom or Dad's lap. He'd make noise, then would go to sleep.

He seemed sweet enough. We would all lay on the couch - my couch - like one big happy pack. And as long as I didn't try to give him a bath, we were all cool.

Then the little guy started getting grabby. He grabs my ears. My face and tries to grab my really short hair and pull. For a little guy he has quite a grip!

Now, he's moving around. He bugs me when I'm napping on the couch. He bugs me when I'm napping on the floor. All the time! He tries to smack me with his toys. And what's worse, he even tries to steal my bone. Mom and Dad are so strict with me when it comes to his toys, but they let him grab my bone all the time! How's that fair? At least they take it away from him when I want it or when he tries to chew on it.

The video below shows how he pesters me. I just want to sleep and he's trying to smack me with one of his toys. Mom tells him to "be nice." I wonder if she thought it was nice when he got her with that toy, too?

I've even had my collar taken away. I've been naked for the past 4 months! Yesterday, Mom put it on me to go for a walk around the neighborhood. We haven't done that in a long time. Mom and Dad said something about it being too cold. I don't know what cold means, but it's been terrible outside. There are huge piles of cold, white stuff blocking all of my favorite pee spots. Plus, I shake like crazy out there. I can barely feel my paws when I come in. Anyway, yesterday on the walk, the white stuff was everywhere. Mom kept griping about having to pick up the rolling thing the little person was in and carry it over all the white stuff.

When we got home, I was tired and Mom left my collar on me... until the little person started grabbing it and pulling it. I was good. I didn't knock him over like I wanted to. I tried to pull away, but his grip is SO STRONG! So, Mom pulled my collar off and put it away. Who knows when I'll get to wear it again?

He bugs my buddy, Frankie, too. He grabs his tail, pulls pawfulls of fur and even grabbed his whiskers once! Mom and Dad are pretty quick to make him stop, but I can't believe Frankie hasn't swatted him with his sharp claws. He's the biggest grump in the whole pack and even he gives him a free pass. If I try to play with him, he smacks me. Again, I don't know why this little person gets special treatment, but he seems to be pretty cute. And, when he isn't bugging me, or stealing my stuff, he's not so bad. I guess he isn't a visitor, but the newest member of our pack. That means, I'm going to have to put up with him.

Observations on Baby Poop

Based on our own experience, as well as the inputs of several friends and family, new parents are hyper aware of everything. When Evan came home from the hospital, he came with a chart to record the number of times he peed and pooped. We diligently filled out this chart for the first few weeks, and have been keeping tabs ever since.

Perhaps one of the nicest things Mother Nature does for new parents is easing us into the messy diaper process. Newborn "stools" don't really smell and really aren't anything significant. But as you ease your baby into new foods, you start seeing first-hand the results. And, as your baby progresses into more complex foods, their diapers equally go up the hazardous waste charts.

You go from, "Oh, this isn't a bad one," to "Note-to-self-NEVER-feed-THAT-to-him-again." (See Brian's post "Prunes = YUCK!")

You also learn what to expect for the day based on what you uncover in that first morning diaper. Today, for instance, Evan had what Brian and I call "the pancake poop" in his diaper this morning when I got him up. This is a very easy diaper to clean up, but usually a warning sign of what is to come later.

Sure enough, later this morning, after E took his morning bottle, I smelled something pretty funky. I scooped him up and took him into his room and it was the dreaded "diaper-full-thank-God-in-Heaven-this-didn't-leak-out" poop. And I knew it was going to be like that when I picked him up.

Quiet time

7 am on a Saturday morning. Before Evan, I'd still be laying in bed asleep or just starting to wake up and listening to Truman snore away. Today, I'm on my second cup of coffee listening to Evan start to rouse through the monitor. He usually wakes up happy and I love listening to him "sing" in the monitor as he thinks about getting up for the day and plays with his Elmo and Cookie Monster toys.

I really enjoy this time. I turn on the TV, complete the daily Sudoku challenge (finished in the top 50 today!) and read the morning headlines. Working full time and then being the "stay-at-home-Mom" on the weekend makes me appreciate and cherish quiet time to myself. During the week, the commute to and from when I can listen to whatever music suits my mood or just be alone in my thoughts is entirely too short some days. I admit, sometimes I will take a longer route home just to make sure I clear my head, sing along with a couple of songs from the Glee soundtrack, pretending I am a good enough singer to be on the cast. It's amazingly therapeutic.

Like it is for most people, life in the Corporate world can be frustrating and stressful. Many of my colleagues joked this week that we got "1/2 days" because we left at 5 or 5:30 due to some pretty impressive snow showers. Quiet time helps me get over my frustrations and stress so I can leave them at the office and not bring them home. I don't get to spend nearly as much time with Brian and E as I'd like to, so I do my best to not taint that time by bringing the office home with me.

But little boy is calling now at 7:30. He wants to eat and start his day. After my little bit of quiet time, I'm ready to start it, too!

Warrior Evan versus the Evil Dr. Sleep

Sorry, once again, for the prolonged delay between posts. I have that rare moment of tranquility right now. Evan in his bouncer - and not mad for being in there while I am in plain view - and Truman cleaning whatever remains of breakfast might be off of his hands.

Evan's first Christmas was all we could hope it would be. He was very good at family, church and with more family. You would think the three massive family gatherings in two days would have sent him over his threshold, but he was a very good little trooper. He showed off his mad crawling skills and newly found beginner's walking skills (he can walk when holding on to someone's hands).

I joked on Facebook that he got a 157 new toys. It's only a slight exaggeration. Some of the toys are a little too advanced for him and will be better suited when he gets a little older. So we have put those in a tub for now. His Aunt Noreen and Uncle Anthony bought him a blow up Penguin. The kind you can hit and it always pops back up. He was afraid of it at first, but seems to be doing well with it now. His favorite new toys are a new cell phone, a toy with a steering wheel that makes car noises and the "interactive zoo*."

*My public service announcement for the year - LISTEN to the sounds, songs and noises a toy makes before purchasing it. If you can't imagine being in the same room with those sounds going on OVER AND OVER AND OVER again, chances are the parents of the child you are buying it for also do not want to be stuck in a room with it. Granted, Brian and I get as much amusement out of it now as Evan does, making up alternative lyrics to some of the songs...

TOY SONG: "I'm a very friendly parrot, chatting out loud for all to hear."

LINDA's VERSION: "I'm a very scary parrot..." You all know my hatred/blind fear of birds. Let's face it. No parrot is friendly. Why teach a baby to approach something that could claw his face off and bite his fingers in two? Birds are SCARY!

TOY SONG: "I'm a big and tall giraffe, stretching so high I touch the sky!"

LINDA's VERSION: "I'm a big dumb tall giraffe..." It did actually sound like he said "dumb" instead of "and."

We also have dances for the songs. The one for the penguin goes "I'm a tiny little penguin, waddling here, waddling there." To which I waddle from side to side when listening to.

Evan is back to sleeping pretty well again, which is a relief since Brian and I have both been sick. He FIGHTS falling asleep, though. Yesterday, I incurred a wrath so great that it could have only come from someone related to me because Evan knew I was trying to get him to fall asleep and take a nap. He screamed bloody murder for a solid 45 minutes while I tried rocking him, jumping up and down, playing with him, walking around the house for him until my arms where about to fall off* and I just gave up and put him in his crib. He was asleep 5 minutes later.

*Evan was also sick this week and Brian took him to the doctor. He weighs 21 pounds, 3 ounces. Pick up a giant sack of potatoes and carry that around for a good 1/2 hour and see how your arms, shoulders and upper back feel. You also need to mechanize that sack of potatoes because Evan squirms, fights, wiggles and does everything in his power to try and get you to drop him (thank God I haven't done this!).

With naps, he also wakes up MAD. Like he's pissed that we would allow him to fall asleep. He wakes up screaming and it usually takes a good 2-3 minutes to let him know he's awake now and it's time to play.

Last night, I gave him his bottle. He was so tired he would lift his head up and then it would crash back down on my arm, but he still fought. As he lay in my arms in his room, he started this pathetic "AhhhhhUhahhhhhUhahhhhhh" moaning. It was as if he kept making noise, he couldn't fall asleep. To know if he is asleep you have to watch the hands. He keeps one up and as he drifts off, the hand comes down to rest on his tummy. It was like he had some kind of electric shock on his jammies that jolted him awake every time his hand came down.

Again, we fought. Again, it resulted in giving up and just putting him in his crib with him falling asleep before I got out of the room. I'm beginning to think that he just needs to be free to roll and flail about. If he can't move, he can't sleep. The other theory is that wrestling with me just wears him out so that when he does finally land on the crib mattress, he has no more energy to protest.

On occasion, he'll still try. He'll get up on all fours and crawl to the front of the crib, but it's like his neck can no longer support the weight of his head and he just collapses, rises, then collapses again in a deep sleep that will usually last for the next 11-12 hours. When he will rise for a new day of battling against the Evil Dr. Sleep. My poor little warrior just doesn't know that that's a battle he will lose every day.

In the photo below:

Evan is about to figure out the hazards of opening presents. This photo was snapped just before the box slid on the wood floor, causing little E to face plant. He was not happy. Brian took this photo and I was recording on the video camera. He face planted and I snapped the video camera shut and reached for the little boy, but Brian already had him. Regardless, we had a very Merry Christmas. One face plant in what, I'm sure will be thousands.

Evan examines the goods before opening up his presents... All of these are his.

Frankie vs. the Family

We have a psycho cat. His name is Frankie. Frankie is a high-maintenance diva and wants things done his way. He is the feline version of Stewie from Family Guy and tries to kill me on an almost daily basis.

We have a sweet bulldog, Truman, who isn't so great at figuring out things. He's not dumb, he just can't outsmart the evil genius cat.

Pre-Evan, the second bedroom in our condo was the guest room and, when unoccupied, was Frankie's room. Well, once we found out Evan was on his way, we reclaimed the guest room and forbid Frankie from going in there. Plus, we took away his bed. This led to a few weeks of waking up each morning with a "present" laying outside of the litter box. Frank's way of letting us know how much he appreciated being evicted from his favorite afternoon napping spot.

After a fairly rough week with Evan - he had been battling a cold and a blocked tear duct again - he was back to sleeping through the night. Saturday morning, I woke briefly at 6:00 am and went back to sleep. Remember the saying, "Sleep when the baby sleeps?" This mostly applies to opportunities to sleep in on Saturday morning.

Truman sleeps in bed with us and is always the vigilant protector of the house. Any strange noises are scared away by a fierce growling and wuffing. Truman also is a fan of sleeping in and frequent naps.

Well, Frankie does not believe in sleeping in. He believes he is entitled to our room after 7 am and does everything he can to wake us up and get us moving out of the room so he can take it over. He use to come in and just yap - loudly. But after being nailed a couple of times with a swiftly thrown slipper, he changed tactics.

Now, he sits on the outside of the bedroom door and scratches on it - even though it is never fully closed or latched. This scratching wakes up Truman who gets upset and starts barking, which wakes everyone else up - including Evan. So, we all get up and start our day.

In retaliation, I am considering shutting the door behind us on our way out so the cat can't go in there. However, this will likely lead to more "presents" on the floor, so I am conceding victory for now. Damn cat.

The Rookie and The Natural

First, apologies for not writing in FOREVER. I don't have any real good excuse. I just didn't feel like writing and didn't really have anything I thought was relevant enough to share.

Well, Evan is starting to move. He is successfully army crawling now and just a big ol' wiggle worm in general. Over the weekend, I was trying to clean up a catastrophically bad diaper. But Evan is very much in explore-and-see-and-touch-and-crawl-and-move every chance he gets mode. Every time I laid him down on the changing table he would flip over and try to dive off. I had to use the straps to restrain him, but that just kept him from rolling off the table.

He's also teething. He's waking up several times a night and Brian and I are both exhausted as we have not had to build up an immunity to nights of interrupted sleep yet. I know, Evan has spoiled us. And we both have been battling colds.

So, I'm getting very frustrated. You have to pin the shoulders down. If the shoulders turn, the whole body turns. But you can't change an EPA Superfund Site, hazardous waste zone of a diaper with one hand. I thought, maybe this is a learning opportunity. Evan needs to learn the word "no." He didn't. So we fought and wrestled all day on Saturday and all day on Sunday when it came time to change the diapers, leaving us both frustrated and irritated.

I came home from work on Monday and Brian was changing Evan. He was not fighting or wrestling with him - and Evan was laying perfectly still and happy on his back. No wiggling. No protesting. He was a perfect little angel boy.

Brian gave him a toy to play with while changing him. Distraction vs. Command and Control. So simple. But this just goes to show that while I am learning how to be a parent, Brian seems to be a natural. Good thing one of us is!

But he is also your typical Dad who is proud of his boy for things that Moms would not be proud of. For example. When I was wrestling with Evan and trying to get him cleaned up, I had him uncovered for far too long. I heard a bzzzzzzz noise and looked up from the poop. He was peeing. The pee flew through the air a good 3 feet and was bouncing off his bedroom door. When Brian returned home later that night, I told him about the fiasco and he held up Evan, impressed with his long-distance peeing capabilities and said, "Good job, Buddy!"

Boys.

While traveling for work last week, Brian sent me a picture. It's a group shot of all my favorite fellas.

Cathing up

So I know I haven't written in FOREVER. I don't have an excuse, just really couldn't think of anything to write about.

As Brian wrote in the last post, we took our first family vacation and Evan did GREAT! I would like to clarify, however, that I did NOT wear heels while walking a complete lap around the National Mall (Jefferson Memorial, FDR Memorial, Tidal Basin included). I wore my black loafers that are extremely comfortable for normal activities - like walking from my car in the parking lot to my desk. I purposely chose not to bring tennis shoes because I have yet to find a pair that I can walk miles and miles in that don't try to rub right through my achilles tendon. I've tried Nike, New Balance and some expensive pair from The Walking Company that my "foot profile" seemed to fit. My feet are apparently deformed and therefore no tennis shoes will ever be comfortable again. That's why I thought my Addidas flippy floppies would be fine. They are thick-soled and also very comfortable. Well, they wore holes into the TOP of my feet on our first day when we went from 7th and Penn. to the Capitol and then Union Station and then back through the Capitol, Longworth and over to Ford before hopping on the train back to Braddock Road and walking 1/2 a mile to our hotel.

Other random notes...
A lot of people have asked me and continue to ask me if, "it was hard going back to work after Evan was born." The simple answer is no. I can't baby talk and listen to "Red, Yellow and Blue" all day long. Not wired that way. But I will say that staying at work after going back is hard. I'm just not as focused anymore. I'm not willing to work until 7-8 pm unless there is a darn good reason. If I can't get it done within normal working hours, guess what? It's going to have to take a little bit longer than the ridiculously short timeframe initially given. I would like to see my son before he goes to bed. As it is right now, I usually get about 2 hours with him in the evening before bed time.

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The Kansas City Chiefs season-opener was the first Monday Night Football game KC has hosted since 2003 or 2006. It was the grand opening of the renovated stadium AND we were playing hated division rival, the San Diego Chargers. I didn't even think about buying tickets as an option. We did, however, host some friends for a watching party since Evan went to bed well before kick-off. I said I changed. I haven't become a completely different person. :)

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I am a morning person. I'm not happy and cheery about it, but I know if I am home with Evan on the weekends my prime time of opportunity for getting stuff done around the house are in those precious few hours immediately following his first bottle of the day. In the morning, I can put Evan in his exersaucer and usually have at least two hours of get-stuff-done time before he gets tired of his iguana that sings, "Red, Yellow and Bluuuueee."

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Evan cut his first tooth! A little white tooth top is poking through the front of his lower jaw! He's also sitting up pretty well. He hasn't pushed himself up into a sit-up position, but once sitting up, he can stay that way for a good long while.

Things I worry about...

Those of you who know Brian and I, you know we have a dark sense of humor as well as a pretty unsophisticated sense of humor - we laugh at fart jokes. So, if you are easily offended, I recommend you stop reading and just go browse somewhere else.

A few nights ago, we were sitting on the front porch after putting Evan to bed. Brian started browsing through The Onion and found this:




We laughed hysterically and then prayed, "Dear Lord, please don't let this be our son."

Objective: Mobility Now!

Evan is really trying to get himself mobile. Here's a video of one of his recent attempts.




Also for your viewing pleasure is a picture from the same mobility attempt that I like to call, "Cheeks McGee."

Linda vs. snap-up pajamas

There comes a time with every new parent when you realize you really dislike certain baby products. Right now, I can't stand snap up pajamas.

I know what you're thinking, "Linda, they are pajamas for crying out loud. It's not like you have to be a Mensa member to work the darn things." Yeah, well repeat that sentiment at 1:30 am when you are half awake and going on four hours of sleep from the previous two nights and using one eye because that's the one that will focus - kind of.

See, if you have one of those onesies with the feet in them that snap up at each ankle and then somehow meet in the middle, these aren't the easiest things to navigate under the strain of limited sleep. They are the Christmas lights of pajamas! If you are off on one, you have to undo every single one and try again. For added complexity, factor in an onery little boy who LOVES to keep those little feet kicking and moving. This means you have to get the foot in the sleeper fast and snapped fast in order for it to stay on.

This is why Brian and I prefer sleep sacks. They are basically nightgowns because they are open at the bottom, but the bottom as the elastic band around them so you can pull it around those little feet. After sleep sacks, the pjs that just have snaps from ankle to ankle are my second favorite. With the ankle-to-ankle items, you have to pull it over the baby's head like a sleep sack, but you get the added cuteness of the feet and its much easier than the full snap up. Zip ups are also ok.

Bouncy Baby Boy

Not too much has changed since the last posting. Evan is working so hard at making himself mobile. He's able to push his upper body up to his elbows, but still can't really push up. While trying to get his upper body going, his fat little legs will be working. This morning, he was making crawling motions in the crib.

Baby boy likes to be on the go! We joke that he will not tolerate you sitting while holding him and he will only tolerate you standing still while holding him for so long. After so long, my arms feel like they are going to fall off and we have to sit down. I prop my feet up on the coffee table and lean him back against my legs. He usually isn't too happy about this, but if you let him grab hold of your fingers he will work with you to pull himself up into a sitting up position and then he just really amused by his abilities. When he gets bored with that (5 minutes later), sometimes we just take him to his "happy place" - the changing pad. There, we can have all sorts of "conversations" via bubble talk.

Then, we can usually start the rotation between the swing, play pen, Mom or Dad's shoulder, lap, changing table all over again. He is starting to get a preference for the play pen. At first, he was not at all happy about being put in his play pen, now it seems he would rather be in there because he work on his objective of self-propulsion.

We've also found little things that amuse him, like cradling him and then bouncing up and down. I think this is early practice for when he is bigger and able to say, "Again!" He enjoys bouncing activities so much that when you stop, he gets mad and lets you know about it! I'm going to have Hulk Hogan's "26-inch pythons" before too long. But it is alot of fun when he starts laughing and squealing in delight.

We haven't uploaded photos to the computer in a while, but here is one of my recent favs: "My little Simba."

Impressionable young minds

Remeber that episode of Friends where Ross and Rachel were doing just about ANYTHING to get Baby Emma to laugh? If you recall, the only thing that worked was singing and dancing Sir Mix-a-lot's 90s hit "Baby Got Back."

Evan demands to be entertained. He is not satified with sitting on your lap. You have to be standing up and you have to be moving when you hold him. One night I discovered that making the "bubble" sounds with your lips really amused him. So of course I did this ALL THE TIME. If it gets you a smile, you do it no matter how numb your lips get.

NowI see how babies, particularly our baby, can pick up on things so quickly. Check out the video:



If Evan can pick up this at 15 weeks, how much longer do I have until my poor choice in language use comes back to haunt me?

Things I can't live without

Coffee. If a car can't run without gasoline or alternative fuel, I can't run without caffeine. Some days require "higher" octane than others. And by higher octane, I mean I need a large vanilla latte from Latte Land with two extra shots in it.

A swing. The swing is Evan's most favorite place to be - except for the little dresser-top changing pad that we have for him, that's his happy place. We have two. The big one in our living room and a travel-sized item (which really isn't that compact). Some folks say they need a bouncy chair. I think its probably either or. We don't have one, but Evan loves sitting in the one at Aunt Steph and John's house.

Changing Table. We didn't buy a stand alone changing table. We didn't have room. What we did buy was a three-drawer dresser with a little side door. The side door area has two shelves and is great for storing diapers, wipes, butt lotion, etc. For the top of the dresser, we bought a changing pad that actually attaches to the back of the dresser so you don't have to worry about your baby sliding off with the pad. This is the greatest thing in the world. When Evan is red-hot, raging mad, we will often take him into his room and lay him down on the changing pad. 60 percent of the time, it works every time*.

A Boppy. I'm not breast feeding, but about one or two weeks after Evan was born, I was sitting in the rocking chair in his room. The closet door was open behind the chair, so I was hitting it as I rocked back. I reached behind with my left arm to try and pull it closed. SNAP. Something in my shoulder popped and, as a result, holding Evan for extended periods of time makes my whole arm burn in pain. This sucks, because when I feed him, I hold him in my left arm and the bottle with my right one. I can't switch. I've tried. It's like trying to write left-handed. It's just awkward. So, I grab that boppy and stretch Evan out across that on my lap and we can make it work.

Wipe warmer. I was on team "This has to be the single biggest waste of money in the entire world" pre-Evan. But, before we got the wipe warmer, he would SCREAM every time we changed his diaper. Now, the changing pad is his "happy place." I'm not saying spend any money on it, but put it on the registry. It's one of those things that people will be happy to buy for you and babies seem to prefer warm wipes as opposed to cold wet wipes -- wouldn't we all?

Extras. It is definitely a good idea to have at least two full sets of bedding (mattress pad and sheets) and a couple of changing pad covers. Babies - especially my baby - like to wait for the 2 second window of opportunity when the old diaper is removed and the new one isn't quite covering them yet to let loose.


*Did you get the Anchorman reference? Possibly the greatest comedy movie EVER. Evan will start "talking" to me and I will tell him "You know I don't speak Spanish! English please!" or, "What? What's that you say? You pooped in the fridge and ate a whole wheel of cheese?"

Parents: What are some of the things you can't live without? I'm sure my preggo friends and family would love to hear some extra perspective.

Figuring things out

Sorry it's been awhile since my last post. I know I've kept half a dozen of you out there waiting on pins and needles. :)

Here goes... When I was pregnant, I would just about give myself an anxiety attack with all the "what ifs" and questions that would pop in my mind. And its never just one question at a time. It's 400 hundred all at once as your mind betrays you and sends you in to a complete meltdown. A friend of mine is going through this stage right now.

It's so easy to get overwhelmed. There is more information out there than anyone could ever read in a nine-month span. And, lets face it. The first three months, you feel like death so you don't really care about - or have the energy to do - anything else. During the last three months, you have a baby bouncing off your internal organs and it is impossible to fall asleep. And, when you do sleep, it's in 2-3-hour increments because you wake up having to pee, get a glass of water (because you've already downed the 32-ounce glass on your nightstand), chew up some TUMS, or all of the above.

So the second trimester is really the only time you can get stuff done before the baby arrives.

Looking back, I kind of chuckle at some of the things I was so concerned about then. Here are a few questions I had back then followed by answers that were hard learned by experience.

Question: How will I know when it is time to move up a diaper size? I seriously worried about this.

Answer: There are several ways you know, but the most telling is when the diapers are no longer capable of holding in the mess your baby puts out. When the diaper failure rate increases, its time to move up a size.

Question: How will I know if my baby is just upset or if something is really wrong? I worried about being the over-hyper parent that called the doctor every time my baby sneezes. Now, I know that Brian is this person, not me. :)

Answer: If he doesn't have a temperature or blood or green slimy stuff coming out of any orifice, he's probably fine and is just grumpy or has gas.

Question: How will we keep his nails trim so he doesn't claw up his face?

Answer: VERY CAREFULLY. You have to have the hands of a surgeon and usually wait until the baby is sound asleep before trying this out. Some people bite the nails off. I'm not a fan of this approach. I don't like biting my own nails. To keep from shaking with the nail trimmer, avoid caffeine for at least four hours prior to the operation.

Also, many PJs come with little flaps that fold over the baby's hands. Use them. Evan someone managed to get his hands free anyway, but they did provide his face with a little bit of a reprieve.

Question: How do I know what stuff to get and what to avoid? Do you really need EVERYTHING on the baby registry checklist?

Answer: You can read a crap ton of books, or just use some common sense. Or, even better, just ask people who have kids. They are always happy to dole out advice on what to get and what not to get. They will give you different answers, and what you need is usually going to be a little bit of a combo of what all your different friends recommend.

Question: How will we teach our baby to sleep through the night? The gift of sleep is not to be over-rated. Remember the saying, "If momma aint happy..."? Well, its very true.

Answer: Routine. Routine. Routine. We also recommend the "Baby Wise" book. It is a little bit more militant (and by militant, I mean it is the boob nazis' handbook) than what Brian and I do, but if you need to figure out structure, that's a good starting point. It also helps to have a big baby who just naturally sleeps for a long time.

Question: What the hell is a receiving blanket and why, according to the Babies 'R Us registry check list, do I need five of them?

Answer: I still haven't figured this out. Family and friends will give you more blankets than you can ever possibly imagine using. I don't know what differentiates a receiving blanket from a regular blanket. Someone told me that a receiving blanket is one that the doctors can use to wrap the baby in when he/she is first born, and then you have it as a keepsake. No thanks. I've seen what babies are covered in when they are first born and all blankets used to wrap of newborns should be incinerated as medical waste.

Question: How do I know what kind/type of bottles to buy? I just about started crying in the middle of Target when Brian and I were attempting to fill out our registry and there were no less than eleventy billion different brands, types and sizes to choose from.

Answer: Just pick one or two. Just buy one package. Try it out. If it works, go get more. If not, try something else.

Question: Why does my baby seem to smile and laugh every time I ask if he pooped? Evan will be sitting on our lap and then we smell something that isn't so fresh. I'll ask him, "Did you poop?" If he smiles slyly, the answer is usually yes. If he just looks at you blankly, then you just need to wait for it...

Answer: I'm not sure that this would be a very common question. I think Evan thinks its funny that he pooped because he Brian's son (and mine, too!).

That's all the Q&As I can think of now. I have been thinking about a post-pregnancy post, detailing the aftermath of giving birth - what Hollywood doesn't tell you. But, like I said, it is the year of the baby for my friends and family (the only people who ready this), so I'm going to wait on that. Maybe a good memory post for Evan's first birthday... all my friends babies will be born by then.

Here's a picture of Evan at his 3-month birthday:

Back to work

Last week was my first week back to work. Everyone kept asking, "Isn't it sooo hard?" And the truth is, it wasn't so bad. If all things were equal and I had to choose between working and spending the day with Evan, I would probably try to find some happy medium where I could do half and half.

I wish I had more time to spend with Evan. This is one area where his advanced sleeping skills kind of work against us. I don't get to see him before I leave for work. I sneak into his room and whisper to him, but he's asleep. I'm not going to go in there and wake him up just to satisfy my own selfish needs. Maybe, in a way, that makes it easier. If I fed him and then he fell back asleep in my arms (what he always does after the first meal of the day), I'd never make it to work. Since Brian has been able to arrange his schedule where he is home most of the week, I also have piece of mind knowing he's in good hands all day long and not with people we don't know very well.

On the other hand, it is nice to be around adults again and have conversations that move beyond the letter, "Ohhhh.*"

*Evan has started interacting with us and whomever he is around. He'll stick out his tongue and if you do it back at him, he will smile and laugh and just think it is the most awesome thing in the world. My sister said that tongues are the first muscle babies can control so when they use it and you use it, its almost like you are communicating with them. Also, babies love to say, "Ohhh." So if you say it to Evan, sometimes he will repeat it back to you with delight. Trust me, it's super cute.

I think I was more nervous about going back to work because I wasn't sure what to expect. There were a lot of organizational changes that happened while I was away. Many roles changed. We are even going to be moving our offices at some point.* But my position didn't change at all. In fact, my direct supervisor and myself probably had zero change. Most of my changes happened pre-maternity leave when I was able to "hand-off" a lot of legacy responsibilities that didn't align with what my particular role is now. Now I get to do what I enjoy doing and not spend so much time on stuff that I don't find all that challenging or interesting.

*In my five years with the company, our division/department has always been on the 7th floor (top floor), which is great because we are close to all the big dogs. During those first five years, we played magical cubes 3 different times, when they "realigned the organization" and then decide that the seating chart needed to be updated. Now, we're going to move down to the 2nd floor. The silver lining is we will probably be among the first groups to try out the new workspaces that will be part of our overall building renovations.

So the actual work part. The first two days it was hard getting into the swing of things because everywhere I went people wanted to know about Evan and ask, "Isn't it SOOOOOOO hard coming back to work?" I would gladly show pictures of my baby boy and just nod in agreement with their question. I'm not sure what they were looking for when asking me that question. Did they think I might burst into tears? Anyway, I was able to go through 2 1/2 months worth of mail (all crap), clean my desk, determine the strategic locations of the pictures of Evan I keep on my desk* and book an interview with some of our experts with a writer for the Wall Street Journal,** in addition to a few other tasks. Not too shabby.

*I wanted pictures of Evan to be within easy eye sight. So I have three on my shelf just to the right of my computer and a fourth picture is to the left. That way, if someone comes into my cube and sits down, I can see my baby boy while we are having a conversation.

**Fair disclosure. I didn't cold call the WSJ and set this up. The writer's editor suggested she contact us for a waste-to-energy story she is working on. My boss' boss was out of the office on vacation Monday. On Tuesday he came back and asked what I was working on and I joked, "I set up an interview with the WSJ on my first day back, what do you plan to do today?" We all had a good laugh.

I did miss Evan's last appointment. Part of me was glad that I didn't have to watch them give him those shots and part of me was very sad that I wasn't there for my son during the most traumatic experience of his short life. I think I teared up a little bit when Brian told me about it.

Yesterday, when I came home from work, he was in his swing just smiling and laughing away. I wanted to hold him, so I picked him up. He did NOT want to be held at that time. So, another lesson learned. Don't wake a sleeping baby and don't pull a happy baby out of his/her swing no matter how much you want to hug and kiss them.

Mom and Dad's night out

Last Friday was a big day for Evan as he met his Great Grandma for the first time and had his first overnight without Mom and Dad. Evan gave me two tickets to the Weezer concert for my first Mothers Day present and Friday was the night of the show down in the City Market.

Visiting Grandma M. was pretty sad for me. Grandma has very advanced dementia. She really doesn't know who any of us are anymore. Even worse, she doesn't sing anymore. She would always sing those really old songs that only grandparents sing. Now, she doesn't remember any words or melodies. But it was good to see her. She's going to be 93 soon. She's extremely healthy. Her mind has just betrayed her...

After visiting with Grandma M., we took Evan over to his Aunt Steph and Uncle John's house. They volunteered to watch him for the night, which was very awesome. At first we were a little nervous about how his 3 1/2-year-old older cousin, Brayden, would be around him. He's had some jealousy issues when Steph holds Baby Evan or Baby Logan. Steph told us the night before that Brayden said, "Baby Evan can't come here. He needs to stay at Linda's house." By the time we got there, though, he was excited to see Baby Evan - that's what he calls him. Baby Evan.

We visited for awhile and when it was time for Brian and I to leave and go get ready for the show, Brian went to give Brayden a hug goodbye. While doing so, he said something about playing nicely with Baby Evan and Brayden said, "I probably won't hit him." WHAT?

The concert was pretty fun and the Weezer sounded great. I can't say the same for the opening acts. Brian and I both agreed, however, that outdoor general admission shows just really aren't for us anymore. Everyone paid the same for the tickets, so they all thought they had to smash their way to the front on a 90 degree/90 percent humidity night. And then the crowd surfing started. Really? Crowd surfing? We joked after the show that you don't see crowd surfing at Elton John and thought the chances would be pretty slim at the upcoming Paul McCartney show at Sprint Center. Hell, we didn't even see crowd surfers at Ozzie over a year ago. We definitely are in favor of in-door, climate-controlled venues with reserved seating!

Throughout the night, Steph sent us pictures of our baby boy to reassure us that all was going well and that Brayden had not yet assaulted him. She said that she didn't make it through her first night without Brayden and had to go get him. We made it through. And while Brian seemed to have a harder time leaving Evan behind, I was the first to grab him up the next morning!

Below are a few of my favorite pictures from the day.

Four generations: Evan, me, my Mom and Grandma M.

Enjoying a few drinks in the River Market before the show.

During the show, Brian sneaks in a smootch

We met up with two of Evan's honorary aunts: Sarah and Jenn

Two Months!

Our little man is two months old today! Time flies. So fast that I have to go back to work next week. :( Oh well, we gotta pay the bills, right? To see the progression, we included the photo from when he turned one month old. He's a little chubbier and his hair is progressively thinning. He is also capable of sitting up much better on his own. At one month, we had to prop him and I was within arms reach just in case he needed me quickly while Brian was snapping the photo!