15 Months

Oh little big boy.
You are so luscious at 15 months.
You are chubby.
You have great curls and big hazel eyes.
You give everyone disapproving looks if they look at you.
You stick you lower lip waaaay out right before you start to cry.
You say maaaamaaa and dada and other babble, babble, babble.
You have eight teeth.
You are getting your one year molars.
You just started crawling on your knees.
You revert back to the KP stroke swim (right arm and left big toe) when you really want to get somewhere fast.
You throw food off your tray when you are done eating, and laugh when I say NO.
You love finding my toothbrush and chewing on it.
You love chasing the cats.
You love your big brother and sister.
You love going up, up and up the stairs again and again and again.
You love grabbing your penis when I change your diaper.
You enjoy walking around objects and will sometimes let go, but only briefly.
You take one nap in the afternoon.
You could take two, if your mean mom would let you.
You don’t like vegetables.
You love fruit and protein.
You prefer to stay-up verses going to bed.

You are my little joy, my littlest boy.
I love you, I love you, I love you.

13 Months

KP, I missed it, I’m so sorry.

What kind of mother misses her third born son’s 13th month blog spot? Would it be the kind of mother who is still basking in the glow of her birthday?

I promise we’ll catch-up in July, when I am done celebrating.

And so it goes…

I am done. I am done breastfeeding. Today, I decided to have Adam give KP a cup at night instead of me nursing him. Why? Well, we have been cutting back for weeks now. My thought is that once we hit 12 months, we’re golden. I’m not one to nurse a child who can actually say the word breast.

How do I feel about this? Well, let me tell you. During the last 6 years (72 months), I have been breastfeeding for 34 months and pregnant for a total of 30 months. So, if you do the math (stop laughing, yes I did the math, so if you see an error you fix it and let me know) there has been a total of 6 months in the past 6 years that I have not been breastfeeding or pregnant. THAT IS A LOT! I am ready to be done. It is time. I am ready to have myself back.

Will I miss it? Yes. There is a very special bond that is created when one is breastfeeding. It is the most nurturing act I have ever done.

This past Monday, we were at my in-laws for dinner. It was getting late, so I was getting KP ready for bed. As I sat in their guest bedroom nursing him, I saw our reflection in the mirror and wished I had my camera. I knew it would not be much longer that we would share in this together. I didn’t have my camera, but I will always remember him there in my arms so sweet and innocent and lovely.

It’s time to fly my little one. Stretch those wings!

1 Year Old

Dear KP,

I can’t believe it has been a year since you came into the world. You have brightened our days, changed our dynamic and made your own mark on our family.

If someone were to ask me what you are like at one year, I would reply:

You are easy going. You are the type of baby people would pay money for. You are the type of baby that if one isn’t too careful, they could get “sucked in” by your ease and think they want another just like you…that rarely happens my friends, don’t get fooled.

You are scheduled and consistent. You want only big kid food now and suddenly you have a discriminating palate. You go to sleep at 6:00 pm and wake up cooing in your crib at 6:30 am.

You are joyful and good natured. You interact with everyone and all things around you: playing games, doing things to get attention and actually laughing at the craziness that surrounds you.

You love to play with your siblings. The favorite seems to be Monster Baby. You just so happen to be the monster, the big kids run circles around you while you slide your belly across the floor with your big right toe and they scream, “MONSTER BABY, MONSTER BABY”. When your siblings are not around, you play nicely by yourself, but then there are moments when you look up and seem lost without them near.

You, my little nugget, are absolute joy and happiness and love. Thank you for being here with us. We love you.

Happy 1st Birthday!

Cry baby

KP is crying, and crying, and crying. He is in his crib. He needs to sleep. He is tired.

Listening to this type of crying truly is a form of torture for me. It makes me crazy! I can’t seem to block it out of my mind. It is just too loud. It resonates in my mind…piercing shrieks that don’t seem like they will ever end.

When CT was little and learning to get himself to sleep, I would have to leave the house because I couldn’t stand listening to him cry. I thought it would get easier for me as the number of children increased, but it hasn’t. It is as hard today to listen to my baby cry as it was the first day I brought one home.

11 months old

Dear KP,
You are on the verge of so many things these days. You are so busy with moving around and figuring things out and playing with toys that only 5 year olds should be playing with and eating three squares and two snacks and still breastfeeding and trying to get up on your knees and interacting with people and understanding simple commands and using sign language to tell us you want more and playing coy with people you don’t know and crying when I walk out of site (but only sometimes) and being so enthralled with the cat that it bites you and finding so many extra snacks on the floor that I don’t even need to vacuum some days and trying to figure out if you need two naps or one and biting objects when you don’t get what you want and jabbering non-sense that is starting to sound like real words and when all that is done you do it all over again and again and again. My little man, you are getting so big!

I love you.

The floor

KP is on the move. This kid is all over the place. He isn’t even up on his knees yet. And why should he be? He can motor anywhere he wants on his belly with his right arm and left big toe. He seems to find the back entryway a great place to spend some quality alone time. I’m not sure if it is because he can see out the door, or if it is all the baskets filled with hats, or all the dirty shoes he can chew on, but he loves spending time back there. I really try to keep it clean and rock free, but for god sake it is the most heavily used entrance in the house. The other day, he had been back there a bit too long, so I went to check on him. I walked up to him and he flashed me the biggest ear to ear grin. The only thing that was amiss was instead of seeing beautiful pearly white teeth, I saw a mouth full of mud. Teeth black as dirt, literally.

Art d’blue

KP’s first art project composed by smashing,
grinding and smushing blueberries all over his canvas.
Voila!

10 months old

Oh my little man.
How I love thee, let me count the ways…
I love your nose that doesn’t at all resemble your other siblings
I love the seven big fat horse teeth that I know you inherited from me
I love how you crawl on the floor only using your arm as a lever and your left big toe to push you forward
I love how you respond to your big brother and sister
I love how you pick up every little bit of everything on my filthy kitchen floor, put it in your mouth and then look as though
you just ate a gourmet meal
I love how you try to chase the cats around the room
I love how you open your mouth as wide as you can when I try to take a picture of you
I love how you fall asleep with your binki over your face
I love how you look just like your dad
I love how you say, mmaa mmaa mmaa

Alpine Sliders Club

KP participated in his first ever sliding contest down the stairs this morning. He won, by a head. Thank god he is alright. It is at those moments, the brief seconds where you aren’t watching when you should be, or you weren’t organized enough to get the safety gates up, or you just forgot the little guy can actually move, those are the moments that everyone has, but those are also the moments that really bad things can happen. As a parent, those are scary moments.

What scares me even more than parental slip-ups are those times when your kids are just playing around and someone gets hurt, or they are just in the wrong place at the wrong time, or they just happen to get diagnosed with some horrible disease. Those things I have no control over. Those are the things that I don’t dwell on often, because why would you? You could kill yourself with worry. But sometimes I do. And when I do, I realize how fragile life is and if you don’t take every second to live everyday to its fullest you may not have another chance.

So, thank god for my big sturdy headed kids and that we have another day.

Enjoy it!