One year

My baby turned one today, and I just couldn't be more proud of the sweet, rambunctious, adorable little boy he's growing into, but I think I'd prefer that he stay my little baby for a bit longer. Is that too much to ask? I'm in no hurry little man... got that?!

There's really no slowing down time though, I realize. It just keeps ticking by, and Gus keeps picking up more "toddler" tricks everyday. He really truly started walking over the last few weeks, to the point that it is now his primary mode of mobility. He charges all over the house, taking no prisoners. Vacuums, puppy dogs, laundry baskets, beware. Gus doesn't go around things, he goes through them. Rather than slowing down for obstacles, he charges at them with as much gusto as he can muster. The last few mornings he's started to toddle around in his jammies with this little Precious Moments doll that we got from someone at one of my showers, very random I know, you squeeze it's tummy and a little boy's voice says our bedtime prayer. Anyway, the doll has on top of it's head this little blue night cap with a white puff ball at the end of it. Gus sticks the puff ball in his mouth and frankensteins his way throughout the house with this big ole thing just swinging back and forth, back and forth in front of his chest. His eyes and his little devilish giggles saying, "Look mom, dad! No hands!" Gosh he makes us smile.

His first word was, of course, the dog's name (clearly Dan and I spend a lot of time scolding, calling for, and just generally dealing with her and her neuroses) and he chases the poor dear throughout each room of the house, from couch to couch, hiding spot to hiding spot, "Bay-ya, Bay-ya, Bay-ya!" All dogs are "Bay-ya". He looks down for her from his high chair when he eats, especially in restaurants, when he's throwing food to the floor like a maniac yelling, "Uh-ohhh!". Of course he shares bites with her, and then sticks the little piece of food she has just taken a bite out of back into his mouth. It is all very sanitary and not at all distressing for his poor mother.

Boys and their doggies right?

So we had the big, crazy, loud, extravagant, wonderful birthday party last weekend, and today was nice and quiet. Dan went over to my brother's house to help dry-wall his basement, and Gus and I had a nice morning running a few errands with my mom, we went to the mall and he got to play in the little play area for the first time. He finally fits in with those kids there, now that he's walking. Gosh, 10 months ago when we walked that very same mall during my maternity leave, him in the moby, me with my coffee, that just seemed so far away. And now we're here. A blink of an eye, and that first year is over. My baby.

So for now I'm going to hold onto every last "baby" thing I can and cherish it and appreciate it and remind myself how fleeting time is. I will nurse my boy all night, every night, if that's what he needs. I will rock him to sleep when he's awake at 4:00 AM and try not to frett over how perpetually exhausted I am. I will hold his bottle even though he really should probably be holding his own bottle by now. I will sing nursery rhymes to him, kiss his little perfect eyelids and neck rolls, squeeze his little tummy because it will be the lean and slender abdomen of a toddler soon enough. And if I want I'll dress him in cozy striped knits and little puppy dog moccasins instead of jeans and polo shirts. Just a little longer baby boy, ok?

Awkward is...

Having to answer a random coworker man's question of what I'm "cooking up in that bag?", referring to the Medela steam clean bag that is at that moment doing its job of sanitizing my pump parts in the microwave. And then having to continue to stand there next to him for another minute in the horrible silence that followed my answer. Maybe I need to think of a better answer than the truth?

The office cleaning crew busting into my (locked) office to empty my garbage can at 4:15, at which time I am in the middle of my third and final pumping session of the day. My light is on. The radio is on. A "Do Not Disturb!" sign is posted on my door. Apparently, these are all invitations to unlock my door and barge in! I have since taken to putting my garbage can outside my door during that third session. And a few times I have taped a sign to the actual door knob that says "NURSING MOTHER, PUMPING IN PROGRESS". I'd prefer to be a little more discreet about it, but it's better than jumping out of my chair, crouching behind my desk, and screaming, "PLEASE DON'T COME IN HERE!" as I realize too late that, yes, they are in fact unlocking and opening MY door, holy crap, holy crap, holy crap!

Realizing after having a thirty minute conversation with my boss in my office that I forgot to tuck away the tubing and zip up my pump bag sitting on the corner of my desk .

Ahhhhhh. The joys of pumping at work. Loathe.

National Night Out

We did it. We actually went to our neighborhood’s block party this year. We always promised ourselves that once we had kids, we would get out of the house on National Night Out, we would make small talk, we would endure the heat, we would (gasp!) introduce ourselves to the neighbors.

Six and a half years. That’s how long we’ve lived in this house. But we’re introverts, homebodies, both of us terrified of awkward meet-ups, so we just weren’t comfortable participating until we had a buffer. As in… a CHILD.

Yay for buffer children!

Of course everyone was SO NICE. We got a lot of, “You’ve lived here THAT long? How have we never met?” and “When did you have a baby?! I had no idea, you sure were quiet about it!” and “I saw you walking the other day with a stroller, and thought, they have a kid?”

So yeah, all in all, it was a very lovely night. I’m glad we went. Gus seriously hammed it up for all the strangers. It was going on 8:00 PM, definitely pushing his bedtime, and he started manic laughing at everything this one man did, you know that hyper, uncontrollable laugh that almost sounds like it could turn into a sob any moment? His whole face would get flushed, his mouth wide open resembling a muppet, and he just would not stop. He had us all in our own fits of laughter, his joy contagious. What a lovely buffer he is, I love him so much.

I met a mom that lives down the street whose youngest is only about 4 months older than Gus. And Emily across the street has a son less than 3 months older. And I have so much in common with both women, parenting style wise, that it is just ridiculous that I haven’t made more of an effort to meet people before now. Already, within 10 minutes of meeting each other, the mom down the street and I were talking about the fact that our babies are in NO WAY sleeping through the night, which turned to talk of co-sleeping and extended nursing. Hearing about how her first child was a champion sleeper, sleeping through the night, in her crib, from the time she was 8 weeks old, and that now she has this 16 month-old that is so far on the other spectrum… I don’t know why that was so comforting to me, but Lord knows it was. Immensely. Then 30 minutes later I find myself in a conversation with Emily about having breastfed babies that haven’t necessarily followed the pattern for weight gain illustrated by the standard growth charts doctors and, consequently, parents place waaaay too much importance on (in my opinion, more on this topic here if you’re interested). It’s all stuff that I have stressed about, all stuff that at some point over the last year I have felt really alone in, sometimes even shameful or embarrassed of, and goodness, there are two ladies within walking distance of my home that I might have turned to if only I would have gone a little outside my comfort zone earlier. I’m such a dunce. ;)

In other news, I have lost my camera, and it is eating me up inside. It had pictures from Lisa’s bachelorette party, pictures of Gus and the cake Dan made me for my birthday (so sweet!), and who knows what else. I am so sad, and still trying to hold out hope that I find it. The last time I remember using it was at the park last Friday morning, I’ve called the local city hall, twice, and the local police department. Nada. I feel like I live in the sort of town where if someone found something like that at a playground they would turn it in. I really truly believe that, so I am hoping that means it’s somewhere insane inside my house, and not somewhere like, the trash. I’m hoping that I put it “away” somewhere ridiculous, like in the laundry basket or in Dan’s softball bag, when I was cleaning last Saturday. Ugh. It’s not even about the camera, it’s a simple point and shoot, can be replaced for probably about $200. I’m torn up about the pictures on there. Ugh. I am so sorry Lisa, worst bridesmaid EVER.

Hair cut!

Here we are... I decided to get a few side-swept bangs, and he cut off a TON of broken ends. Lovely, honestly it feels like I lost 5 pounds, as strange as that sounds. However, I think maybe I inadvertently got a mom cut. Definitely borderline. Oh well, it was somewhat inevitable right?

Sorry about the b*t$h face. I should have smiled for the picture, it's not like I was having a bad day! Gus was in the middle of a glorious 2 hour nap, and I was all dressed in my very best beach-wear and ready to go meet my mother and sister-in-law and the kids at the pool. And I had time to do my hair, which was a bit of a miracle.

Also, please pretend you don't see the piles of laundry on the bed and the baby boy fingerprints all over the mirror. Okay? Our house is not what you would call tidy these days. Or ever. ;)

Better

It’s amazing what a good night of sleep and a whole hour to myself in the morning can do for me. I feel like I’m walking on air today. I am confident, energetic, and ready to take on the world. A total 180 from last week when I last posted. I felt frazzled and ho-hum. Today I feel beautiful and fresh, and just… happy.

Gus slept like an angel between us last night. He woke up just before midnight and I brought him into bed with us. I nursed him, snuggled him, and fell asleep breathing in his wonderful scent. And instead of tossing and turning, crying out in his sleep every thirty minutes, frantically rooting for me to nurse all throughout the night, he just slept. I’m sure he woke up a number of times to nurse, but it was peaceful, we were in our own little rhythm, and we were both able to get a good night’s sleep. And when I woke up at a quarter to six this morning to this little cherub still peacefully sleeping beside me, I thanked both him and God for what a gift it was to have a good night’s sleep. I’ve been racking my brain all morning trying to figure out what was different about last night, or yesterday, that he would have slept so well, but there’s nothing. So I’m not going to overanalyze, I’m just going to be thankful. (And hopeful… that those four top teeth he’s been working on for what feels like forever are finally completely through and done causing my baby so much pain... and that we have many more nights like the last ahead of us.)

The other reason why today is awesome? It’s Thursday, which means Dan leaves to bring Gus to my mother-in-law’s around 6:15, so I have the house, shower, bathroom ALL TO MYSELF. This morning was wonderful. There was no child fussing in the pack-n-play while I tried to shower and wash my hair as quickly as is humanly possible. Gus wasn’t tugging on my robe, climbing on my legs, or reaching into the toilet as I tried to apply makeup and style my hair. (I’m not sure you can call brushing and scrunching up my wet hair, which is what I tend to have time for when Gus is around, a “style” but we’ll pretend.) Anyway, this morning was lovely. I blow-dried and straightened my hair, used eyeliner, AND picked out a cute outfit.

Seriously, isn’t this outfit adorable? (Sorry, forgot to take off my ID badge for the pic...)

Tomorrow I am getting my hair cut. Woot! I have decided on some side-swept bangs, and will definitely try to post a picture if I think of it.

Also, the exercise thing is going pretty well, I went for a long walk on Monday morning with Gus, and I did a 3 mile run on the treadmill Tuesday night. If I can get in another run tonight, I’ll be meeting the goal I set last week.

And now the mommy guilt has set in, and I feel really vain and superficial having written about all this. Because compared to the other stuff going on in our life, like the fact that Gus has started to stand on his own and his first steps seem imminent, or that my Tuesday day-care lady is moving to Wisconsin and can no longer watch Gus as of August 3rd, talking about my hair and outfit, and exercise, seems just so… trivial.

Stupid mommy guilt. ;)

Fessing up

I feel like it’s time for me to own up to something. I have not been taking care of myself. Gus is ten months old, and for the past, oh, ten months or so, I have really just put myself on the back-burner. Everything has been for him. I shop for Gus. I take pictures of Gus. I read parenting magazines and baby blogs, books about vaccines and infant sleep, articles about baby wearing and attachment parenting. I seek out new healthy foods to feed him. I look for new places around the cities to bring him to. It’s just all about my baby, all the time.

When I’m out with friends or having a conversation with a coworker, I find myself going on and on about baby-related stuff. I have a hard time coming up with topics to talk about that don’t have to do with Gus or baby stuff. And while that’s ok some of the time, even most of the time, it’s not ok ALL of the time. I mean to say, I am a mom, and that is pretty much the most important, most defining aspect of my life right now. I’m cool with that. But it can’t be at the expense of everything else that used to define me. I’m still the wife of a husband who makes her laugh every single day. I still love vintage-inspired fashion, funky accessories, movies, television, red wine, ethnic food, talk radio, CNN, travelling. I love exercising. I love reading good books that aren’t written by parenting “experts”. There’s room in my life for the mom stuff and the “me” stuff. I just need to make room for it.

I need to do a better job about taking care of “me”. I’ve been neglectful, and I think it’s the reason why I’m feeling so frazzled. It sounds a little superficial, but how I look on the outside and feeling good about myself really does affect my daily outlook, my mental health. I haven’t had my hair cut or colored since Gus was maybe four months old. My hair is dry and cracked at the ends, I have little fuzzy two-inch long sprouts sticking up everywhere as a result of that whole post-partum hair loss thing. I have no idea what to do with my hair and how to deal with the re-growth. Simply put, it’s a mess, and it doesn’t help that I don’t have a lot of time to style it anymore. Half of the time I come into work or leave the house with scrunched up wavy wet hair. And it’s in a messy bun or a braid by noon. Gross. And it’s this hideous dishwater shade of blonde. My hair is just gross.

So yeah, instead of feeling sorry for myself, I need to see a stylist. I need to get the color freshened up with some highlights… or something. I don’t even know. I need to get a cut that is an actual hair-style, instead of just this grown out mess of a mop I’ve got. I’m considering long side-swept bangs again, but worry about the maintenance. I’m considering a short bob, but flash back to the near instant regret I have felt every time I’ve cut my hair short.

It’s not just the hair, I’ve pretty much let myself go in every aspect of my physical well-being. I have just become lazy about all of it, I’ve let everyday life sort of wear me down. I’ve got these haphazard caterpillar eyebrows that just drive me crazy every time I look in the mirror. It’s almost too overwhelming to consider tweezing at this point… I need a brow wax. I need to start working out again, my pants are feeling uncomfortable these days. I figure if I can continue to go for walks in the morning a few times a week with Gus, and can add just 30 minutes on the treadmill after he’s gone to bed a couple nights a week, I’d feel so much better. But I’ve been telling myself that for months. Last night was the first night I got on the treadmill since Gus was about 6 weeks old and I decided to start running again and it lasted about one week. Anyway, I need to make a commitment to exercise.

I also REALLY need to start eating better. What started out with a breastfeeding mentality that allowed “splurging” on desserts and junk food a little more often and being a little more generous with my portions has snowballed into overindulging every day and snacking constantly. I can’t keep using breastfeeding as an excuse to eat like crap. Gus is starting to nurse a lot less throughout the day, and I think that’s why I’m starting to feel uncomfortable in my clothes. I’m still eating like I’m burning 600 calories a day, and I’m pretty positive that is not the case. The last time I weighed myself I was down about 7 lbs from my pre-pregnancy weight, and that was all due to breastfeeding. I’m pretty sure I’m no longer at that same weight.

Finally, getting dressed everyday has become a chore because my dresser and closet are so unorganized. There are so many articles of clothing that I never wear, and probably won’t ever wear, but I don’t get rid of them. And then on the other hand I’m still finding random clothing that I completely forgot about because I was pregnant last summer. The biggest problem is that I have been living out of laundry baskets for literally months now. I finally put away my laundry last week as I was trying to pack for the cabin, and it took me nearly an hour. I let the stacks of folded laundry just pile up in the basement, and the idea of putting it away became so overwhelming, I was either wearing the same stuff every other day or pulling out things that I hated from my closet because I couldn’t find anything amongst the piles of wrinkly laundry.

So this is me making myself accountable. I’m making a list. A doable list. A short list. Here’s the list. ;)

1. Make a hair/brow wax appointment. Before leaving said appointment, make another appointment for two months later.
2. Put laundry away after each load. This will take 5 minutes. Putting it off makes the task seem insurmountable. Do it NOW!
3. Hit the treadmill at least twice a week. Don’t get overwhelmed, this should only require a few hours, each week. You can find a few hours, don’t make excuses. If you have time for time-suckage television like House Hunters or Real Housewives of NJ, you have time to work out.
4. Stop buying so many unhealthy snacks, get them out of the house. Grocery shop once a week and make sure there is fresh fruit for snacking and fresh produce for healthy meals in the refrigerator.

Summer

I love the workdays leading up to a holiday. My office is a ghost town. Those of my coworkers that are here are in fantastic moods, planning for the upcoming long weekend, taking long lunches, lingering a little bit longer in the halls to visit and laugh. I don’t know why I like it so much. Maybe it reminds me of the last day of school before Christmas break, or a Thursday during finals week in college. The stress of everyday life has dissipated a little bit, and as colleagues or classmates or whatever you are, you’re all sort of banded together in your feelings of relief and anticipation. A collective “Phew!” if you will.

These past few weeks have been busy. To say the least. I suppose nothing even out of the ordinary has been taking up our time, it’s really been just the regular hustle and bustle of summer. Softball games, baby showers, parades, birthdays, barbeques, graduation parties. Good stuff really. Just busy.

Gus is enjoying the heck out of his first summer outside the belly. We spend as much time outside as possible, and even when he’s at “daycare” he’s having the full summer experience. Last week he played with the kids outside at Annie’s in the slip ‘n’ slide and sprinkler. Yesterday he had a blast splashing and kicking at the neighborhood kiddies’ pool with his grandma. (And wouldn’t you know, his other grandma showed up as well with a bunch of his aunts and uncles. And then so did Annie with her two kids… such a blessing living in a part of the city where it feels so much like a small town!) Monday he went to the park and had a little picnic with his future buddy Lincoln.

We go for long walks before his morning nap every day that I have off work. On Mondays and Fridays it’s just the two of us, but on weekends Daddy gets to come along. Gus is so fun, he watches intently when busses or garbage trucks go by, charms the elderly gentlemen who are regulars at the local McDonalds where I stop for iced coffee, kicks his chunky legs and grabs his little toes as we zip around the neighborhood and try to keep his big doggy sister Bella under control. On those walks, motherhood feels just exactly like how I always imagined it.

People spend so much time talking about the horrors of parenthood, they talk about how difficult it is, how you’re a sleep-deprived zombie for much of the first year, how a simple trip to Target and the grocery store can take so much planning and orchestrating. They talk about being frustrated with your body even ten months after giving birth. They say teething SUCKS, and mealtime involves you shoveling food into your mouth as quickly as possible, likely while standing at the kitchen counter. And yeah, that stuff is all SO TRUE. Somedays you find yourself saying to yourself, "Seriously? This is my life?" But gosh, all that stuff you dreamt about when you were big and pregnant, you know… rocking your baby to sleep in a moonlit nursery, reading a storybook together and pausing for the little guy to turn the pages with his fat little sausage fingers, eliciting squeals of pure joy as you push him on the swing at the park, and yeah… going for long walks together on beautiful, peaceful Minnesota summer mornings. All of that stuff is real too. And it’s so darn wonderful.

So yes, we’re enjoying our summer around here. We’re heading off to the cabin tomorrow for the 4th, and I’m excited for life to slow down a bit once we’re up there. Of course getting there, the packing, the shopping, the organizing, the laundry, that’s all definitely exhausting and stressful. But once we get there….

Yes, I can’t wait to get there and just… be. I’m so excited.

Baby Proofing

Gus took quite the digger this week, and it was TRAUMATIZING… for his mom that is. He seemed to have forgotten the incident entirely after about fifteen minutes had passed.

Ugh, he is just freaking insane, he’s so fast, pulls himself up on everything. He is not happy unless he is standing, and he prefers that whatever he is holding on to while standing be super tippy and dangerous. When we’re in the basement we have to block the stairs with baskets and toys so he can’t climb them. Because he can climb them like a champ, like seriously he’ll do the whole set of stairs in a matter of minutes, but he doesn’t realize that we would prefer not to be standing behind him all day long as he climbs them.

So we block them, and he does everything within his abilities to plow through our carefully constructed barricade. He gets himself wedged between the wall and the toy basket. He climbs ON TOP of one of those plastic stand-up toy table things to get to the stairs. This kid is seriously crazed.

He has this little yellow piano on which he feels it is necessary to perch precariously while digging in a big plastic bin of train stuff. Or he’ll stand on it like it’s a surf board as he’s pulling himself up on the couch.

Crazed I tell you.

Anyway, so the traumatizing incident…

It was around 12:30 on Monday afternoon, Gus and I had just had lunch and I decided to put in the Glee soundtrack and have a little dance party. He had loved watching Glee with me earlier, dancing up a storm being super adorable, so I thought, what a perfect antidote for the dreary, rainy, boring day we were having. DANCE PARTY! He was playing on the floor by the dining room table, messing with the rug, doing his thing, literally a yard away from me. I opened the disk drive on my laptop and all of a sudden, “BOOM! CRASH!” and then there was the horrible screaming. I look over and he’s underneath the dining room chair. I pick it up off of him and scoop him up and there is just blood everywhere, streaming out of his mouth. And he’s just screaming and it’s just the most horrible screaming I’ve ever heard. I FREAKED OUT. I will not lie. My baby was bleeding. The first thing I thought was, “What do I do, who do I call?”

Then I realized that I would have to be the mom here and handle it myself. I put a wet towel on his mouth and eventually it stopped bleeding, and his screams turned to whimpering, and my panic turned to sobbing and apologizing to my sweet little boy.

His upper lip started to swell, to the size of a grape, and to combat the swelling I got the bright idea to put a bag of frozen corn on it.

Bad idea.

That just made him angry, he’s swatting at me, furious, and somehow I lost my grip on the bag of corn and it went flying, and there was frozen corn all over the living room. Awesome.

Anyway, we’re pretty sure he bit his lip, there are a bunch of cuts on both the inside and outside of his top lip. The swelling has since gone down, but it hasn’t been an easy couple of days. That first day it would start bleeding again every time he stuck a toy in his mouth, or when he chewed on the edge of the pack-n-play, or when he rammed his face into his dad’s arm. Dan gave him dinner that night, and he’d throw a fit with every other piece of food he put in his mouth. Oh, and he’s got a big egg-shaped bump on his forehead where the chair must have hit him.

My poor baby.

And it is SO my fault. I knew those dining room chairs are tippy, and yet I let him stand up on them all the time. Ugh. I don’t know how to be more careful, how to watch him more closely. Already I feel like all I’m ever doing is running interference between him and the dog. Or I’m swiping him away from the car seat that he likes to try to climb on and into. Or I’m quickly running to close doors or scoop him up when he’s doing something dangerous. I want him to be able to explore and learn, but I swear it is a non-stop full time job keeping his environment safe for exploring. I’m finding it increasingly difficult to predict what might prove to be a hazard.

So yeah, I think I said this to my mother-in-law the other day, but this whole parenting thing isn’t going to just magically get easier is it? Certain things might get easier, but by then you’re facing yet another new challenge. Funny, baby proofing is the one thing I never ever really stressed about. I remember when we registered that it just seemed so far in the future that I couldn’t even comprehend the necessity. Funny. Ha ha. =(

These days

I can’t say it enough, I am so lucky to be able to work part-time, and spend my Mondays and Fridays at home with my little boy. He is such a joy, and I am so thankful that I can spend two full days every week, just the two of us, soaking up his sweetness, relishing in his giggles, planting kisses on his squishy neck.

Today was just lovely. Gus woke up so happy and rambunctious, he’s into everything and going everywhere these days, which is truly fun to be a part of. He’s pulling himself up, going after the dog dishes with gusto, challenging me to races to electrical cords all over the house. And he is constantly laughing! It’s so funny, I’ll be in the kitchen pouring a bowl of cereal, and I hear him out in the living room playing with his toys, babbling to himself, laughing like someone just told him the best joke.

He sees poor, tortured Bella, sprawled on the floor across the room, and he is off like a jet, maniacally giggling until he’s just about there and she finally gets up and scoots out of the way. She’s learning. She doesn’t like having fistfuls of fur ripped out of her butt, but she still tolerates him. She’s a good dog.

Oh, but there are perks to having this little munchkin take over our lives, and Bella has caught on quickly to those perks as well. Now that he’s eating table foods, she’s his best friend at mealtime. So predictable. I will just say, I’m thankful that we have a dog. Without her our floors would be even more disgusting than they already are. Tonight Gus and Bella had the same dinner as Dan and I, marinara sauce with sautéed onions and green, red, and yellow peppers over cheese tortellini. It was a mess, but a hit all around.

After lunch this afternoon Gus and I went outside for about an hour and a half and enjoyed this gorgeous weather we’ve been blessed with the last few days. He watched me water the flowers from a blanket in the grass, and amazingly did not take off after the hose. I saw him think about it a number of times, but for some reason he gave me a break. ;) Afterwards we lay on the blanket under the tree in our front yard, read books, played with toys, he climbed all over me while I tried to drink a Diet Coke and look through a catalog. He charmed the elderly neighbors with his cheesy grins. A perfect day.

Today was great. I’m thankful.

Weekend

Spring. It’s here, and I’m not exaggerating when I say it has made everything better. The windows are open and we have a breeze going through the house. I can hear the sounds of life being lived outside, roaring motorcycles going by, children playing in the street, birds chirping. The elderly man next door has a pile of “free” stuff on his front lawn, and he wanders back and forth from the house, all morning long, adding things, removing things, glancing over his little table. Picking. He’s such a putzer, and I sort of get a kick out of watching him in action. Dan just thinks he’s bat-shit crazy, but I think you have the right to be sort of insane once you get to your late 80’s.

Gus is napping. Last night was one of those nights where he essentially wanted my boob in his mouth the whole night. I didn’t get a great night’s sleep, but it wasn’t terrible, and knowing we didn’t have to be up for anything in the morning always makes those rough nights more tolerable. 6:50 AM though, was way too early for him to be rolling around on the bed and giggling at me. We stayed in bed for about as long as he would allow it, but there’s only so long he can entertain himself with a book and a stuffed animal. Dan finally got up to change his diaper, and I burrowed under the covers for just a few more minutes, the bed all to myself, it felt glorious.

Next thing I know its 8:30, and Dan is throwing my baby boy on the bed with me. “He’s ready for a nap already.” Deliriously I sat up and snuggled him into me, nursed him, and in no time he was fast asleep. What a little angel. But can I ask, angel, why must you get up so early only to be ready for a nap less than two hours later? This I do not understand.

Dan seemed a little salty when I came down, neither of us wanted to get out of bed this morning, but he did it, and he let me sleep. He’s a good man, a good father and husband, I am lucky.

Yesterday was just a lovely day. Gus and I played hard all morning, he’s moving around so much these days, and it’s so much fun watching your baby learn. He’s started to master the sitting to tummy maneuver, and vice-versa. So darn close to crawling, he gets up on his toes, sticks his little bum in the air, and rocks back and forth. He’s had to endure a number of bonks on the head, nose-dives into bright plastic toys, but he’s figuring it out. I watch him now, every move done ever-so-slowly because he is already learning from his mistakes. What a smart little boy. Babies are amazing.

In the afternoon we had lunch with one of my best friends, and went walking around the sculpture garden in Minneapolis, throughout Loring Park. It was perfect. I couldn’t have asked for a better day, catching up with a friend, enjoying our city, taking in the spring air and sunshine. Last night we went to Dan’s grandma’s house for her birthday, a delicious grill out, lots of family, girl-talk with my sisters-in-law, even Gus had a blast and he was up WELL past his bedtime. Again, perfect.

Better go get ready for the day, get out of this bathrobe. It’s Saturday and there are errands to run, another family get-together tonight. Hope everyone is enjoying this beautiful weekend as much as I am!