Buttons!

A post to Stefan.

Let's just say, you're obsessed!! No remote control, telephone, or device is safe. You see them from across the room, squeal and squirm in my arms until I reunite you with your button friend, and if they have lights, all the better. You usually get your thumb wrapped around one, and push it repeatedly while giggling. You, I, and Twilight Turtle have a fun time practicing "On, Off" before bed, which I think you'd do for hours if you didn't need sleep. You'd crawl across a couch a million miles long to get the remote from Dad. Hopefully you'll maintain that perseverance through life! PS Kelder Kat is not a button!

Doors

A poem for Stefan, who leaves no door unopened, literally.

Doors are a wondrous thing,

open and close,

enjoy their swing.

some move fast,

others are slow,

push pull,

for hours you go.

You care not what they hide

but only that they are open wide...

and closed...

opened...

closed...

opened...

closed....

opened... closed...open...closed...

Strings and Dangly things

There are certain things we cannot pass by without touching. Ever since we showed you the light/ceiling fan strings and the chimes, you've had an obsession. Honestly, you're quite lucky Mommy & Daddy will overhead press you up to the strings and patiently hold you there while you pull. *Which leads to the kinda cool part...babies need time to process and I can watch this in you. I can see the wheels turning in your head...seeing the string, telling your hand to reach, fine motor skills to open and grasp, gross motor pulling, and the emotional response of success!*

I love how you look for fans, light up when you see them, and become entranced watching them. Then the strings come into view. I've realized your temper tantrums aren't hatred for the changing table. They are frustration that we didn't first play with the fan cord. It's really helped Mom's ears to figure this out!

Kitchen chimes are the other fun one. If you didn't aggressively whip the clacker around, I'd let you play with them all the time. Until "gentle" has meaning, we'll have to satisfy you only with a quick touch. That is, until your fine motor skills catch up and start moving quicker than Mom can move them out of your grasp!

Now He's Down in it

I wasn't going to do a quick post but I just have to now. It's finally time to take a step toward independence. He's been sitting on my office floor emptying a box he shouldn't be into...all over the floor.

 Paper by paper...

 Leave no crayon, paper tube, or photocopy unturned, Monster!

 Now he's moved onto an USB cord (don't go worrying, he's not allowed to play with cords on a regular basis), which he's talking to a whole lot. The best part, he threw such a protest when I went to pick him up. I thought he was getting bored, I was wrong. He wanted to go back on the floor ASAP, where's he's been content for quite some time. FINALLY!!

He's really into a lot these days, as long as it's in his leaning-arm-stretch radius, a ridiculous position, 1 step away from crawling. He's into purses, teacher bags, boxes, pumpkins...you name it!

Spinning on the Dizzy Edge

I know just enough about autism to make me wonder about Stefan's behavior sometimes. Of course his behaviors are typical for someone his age, if he's still doing them in a couple of years, then we worry! Any how, one of the new ones is rolling his head back and forth and banging it into things (like my chest and my Boy's got one hard noggin). This is a way of feeling the beat, baby style. No surprise he's got rhythm!

Other explanations for this behavior revolve around comfort. It can replace Mom and Dad's rocking arms, soothe teething, comfort when waking at night, and alleviate stress. Learning to walk, weaning, or new babysitters are common forms of baby stress. So much for that stress-free living they appeared to have! As long as baby is otherwise happy and healthy, this behavior is fine.

If the habit seems to get out of control there are some ways to work on lessening it, and ease a worried mommy mind. Providing other ways of expressing musicality like instruments, toys or objects to beat on, or rattles can help. Also more rocking, more time for active play, and soothing routines around bedtime, including intentional touch, will also benefit Baby. I love intentional touch by the way!

"Research suggests that touch is as important to Baby's growth and development as are eating and sleep." Kindermusik International

Post Information from "What to Expect: The First Year".

Killing time

I have a meeting at 1:00, so I'm killing some time on here, making monster noises and getting head butted in the collar bone (don't ask).

Here are some of our favorite things right now:

Jonny jump-ups work better these days! He's a counter clock wise kind of monster.

Some shepard's pie, nom nom.

Some BLW thoughts

One of the points of BLW is that baby chooses what he eats. In addition to practicing free will, it is thought that baby will know what they need, from what I've read. Like if they are low on protein, they'll jump on meat. I pretty much trust if I'm lacking a nutrient, I'll have an appropriate craving to satisfy it (though it will most likely not be the BEST source I can choose, like peanut butter cravings satisfying protein needs). However, after 29 years, I think that my mind and body have a rather good grasp at what is contained in the foods I eat. Stef on the other hand...not so many experiences. How does he know what vitamins are contained in spinach when he's never had it before. And even then, if he did have it, I really believe taste is going to influence his decision to eat it again. Perhaps I underestimate how our bodies work, there are some seemingly miraculous things out there that I can't explain without a lot of time to research, that end up working out really well for us humans. And then I also consider that I crave sugar, especially when I've had it a lot, and it isn't good for me in any way. After a few days without a coke or some other sweet, I don't really notice that it's gone...a little twisted, the addiction sugar forms in me.

For The Monster, he doesn't consume enough whole pieces of what not to satisfy his needs. Nursing is still the main source of his nutrition. A friend's son nursed exclusively until 11 months, when he showed he was ready to take on solids by grabbing and consuming a piece of pizza off an unsuspecting relative's plate at a party. That is another part of BLW, and I apologize if this is a repeat. I can't remember how specific I've gotten in the past (yes, I'm too lazy to go review the posts). Baby's body knows when it is ready to have less nursing and more solids. At this point, Monster's body is digesting a large majority of the nutrient in the breast milk, and it is satisfying his needs. In fact, solids can potentially inhibit uptake the of breast milk's more readily absorbed iron...so in this way, I can see where a baby's body knows what it needs and knows when the breast milk isn't cutting it. It is then that baby will start seeking out solids on their own...the cue is trying to take food off of people's plates, basically. I've also noticed excessive salivation and lip smacking in Stefan when I cook or eat in front of him, though since he isn't all up in the solids, I think these are kind of Pavlovian responses.

My final thought is in not neglecting spoon feeding. Like everything, BLW has its orthodox followers, one of which I am not. They contend that there should be NO spoon use, as it takes away from baby choosing. I say they are misguided, and if they are so brutal to only use a spoon as an object for shoving food into one's face, without the ability of presenting the baby with a choice, then they have some serious inabilities...no offense. Perhaps I'm blessed with a child who can communicate his wishes effectively and I take the time to let him do so, and can translate his non-verbal cues. Anyhow, in the case of slop-like foods (cereals, soups, curries, purees that are meant to be that way for everyone...in other words not just pureeing everything for baby's sake ie squash soup...ours is thick!), a spoon is totally necessary. Some babies take control of the spoon. Stefan, the opportunist, knows all the things Mom will do for him, and utensil holding is one. I thought he got sick of the same meals all the time, but he's been on pumpkin and squash soup for almost 2 weeks, with some intermittent curries, and is still voracious at meal time. He does exhibit utensil preference (mine, instead of his), and at one point did try to feed himself (note to self, get him back on that!). When he wants it, the grunting is endless, mouth agape. When it's done, we have eye cues, head turning, and slapping. I ask him a couple of times before we're officially all done, just to make sure. That's all I need to do. He's made a choice, I didn't have to clean a bunch of slop out of the dining room rug and everyone is happy. Otherwise, food placed in front of him is a toy to throw on the floor, except for a couple of things which may be food one minute but are soon a toy. Floor food has gotten old.

So like many other baby things, it's not all or nothing. If relying on the information on a page was the ONLY way to do something proclaiming to be the most beneficial for baby, we'd seriously be neglecting our babies and what they are trying to communicate to us.

What's in Your Name?

Stefan (honorific):

There are two things a woman starts planning for practically since birth...her wedding and what she will name her children. OK, that maybe too much of a blanket statement, but I'll venture to say a lot of you Ladies can identify. When I was first overwhelmed with being pregnant (I still can't get over how different it is to say, "I'll have children one day" than it is to say, "I'm having a child in 9 months, Holy ____!"...a whole new reality) I put off the naming thing. I'd have time, I thought, and that would actually be the fun part of the whole process, as opposed to becoming responsible and getting all the rest of my act together. Although, it took us months to name our last cat, who ended up being named after the place where he lived, the cellar, though we spiced it up by using the Dutch translation, "Kelder Kat". Unfortunately, considering that naming method for a child would yield  "House Baby", which probably wasn't the best choice. Next consideration:  the inevitable stress of picking a name that couldn't have anything obvious done to make it into an esteem-crushing child's chant. Suddenly Baby's name was going to matter. I had better really think through what I want because I don't want my kid to be "Lisa Pizza", or whatever other mutation of a name cruel children could come up with,  for the rest of her (or his) life;) OK, I liked that pet name created in first grade by my friends, Ron and Carolyn. I searched on name sites and then realized it may be better to wait until we know the baby's gender. At least it would narrow things down by 50%.

I had my girl name all picked out, but what if DH didn't go for it? No problem, I had a plan. I'd name the child if it was a girl and bestow the ultimate honor of baby naming on Sean, if it was a boy. To my dismay, it was no honor for Sean...more like another responsibility, and wouldn't be easy. Come to think of it, if I was in charge of naming cats, Kelder would have been Katsu like 2 days into the process. Ok to be fair, though it was Sean who kept vetoing my cat names, and Roofus, his final choice, wasn't acceptable for ME. I've come to realize our issue is not "naming", but "agreeing" on a name.

We went to the gender ultrasound full of anticipation. I was positive it was a girl for a week or so (in that 24 weeks), then thought it HAD to be a boy. The Chinese gender predictor said it would be so, and I was sick as a dog for the first 13 weeks, and due to this, people told me, it's definitely a boy. I didn't trust them, morning sickness was a predictor of both depending on who I listened to. I had this thought that in my heart of hearts, I'd know the gender without an ultrasound, because it was in me, I should have some psychic inkling, right?

Any way, it was a BOY! OK, that statement is not as exciting in hind sight;) Drats, I lose the name giving, but just in case the Dr. messed up seeing the Willy, I held onto my coveted girl name. Now...what to name a boy...

...um....something not too common....and Germanic....or Irish....not biblical...that people won't laugh at...
...........hmmmmm.....Well Fritz is his pet-fetus name, how about Freidrich? Is that a mouthful enough? It actually was the back-up name until I was sitting in the hospital, in labor, just before I had a little bit of medication to get me to relax between contractions. Sean was busy emailing while we waited for the real labor, and finally received the name idea from his parents. (Note: If it had been during that medication that made me forget I was in the hospital in labor, I'd have agreed to Jetta, so I'm glad we figured it out before!)

So Stefan, the story you've been hearing from me since you were born is "Stefan" was your Great-Great Grandfather's name from Daddy's side. A baker from Germany, he immigrated to New York and started a family here. "George" is from Mommy's Grandmother's side. Every generation, except mine, has had someone named George in it. Originally, great great great (I forget how many greats) uncle George was a rich man. (Perhaps is was George Eastman of Kodak, but I bet Great Great Aunt Elinor would shoot me down quickly on that one). Great Grandma Georgianna's father, George, was named that in hopes that he'd see the same wealth, and the same goes for Georgianna (or so Elinor says;). I hope, of course, the same for you, though I'd rather you have happiness in life over wealth, but hopefully you'll see both!

Stefan (Serbian Cyrillic: Стефан, en. Stephen) was a name adopted by all the Nemanjić rulers of medieval Serbia. The name Stefan is derived from Greek Stephanos, meaning "crowned with wreath (stephos)". All Serbian rulers after Stefan Prvovenčani ("the First-Crowned") added the name Stefan (Stephen) before their birth names after ascending the throne as a manner of honoring the earlier rulers of their dynasty Stefan Nemanja and Stefan Prvovenčani. From Wikipedia.

[ 2 syll. (s)te-fan, st-ef-an ] The boy name Stefan is pronounced STEHFaaN †. Stefan has its origins in the Old Greek language, and it is used largely in Czech, German, Polish, Russian, Scandinavian, and Slavic. Stefan is a variant form of the English Stephen. A variant of the name is the English, German, and Scandinavian short form Steffen.† English pronunciation for Stefan: S as in "sea (S.IY)" ; T as in "tea (T.IY)" ; EH as in "Ed (EH.D)" ; F as in "fee (F.IY)" ; AA as in "odd (AA.D)" ; N as in "knee (N.IY)" From baby namepedia

PS I should add a couple of the names you could have ended up with: Alexander (my favorite), followed by Ewan (my second favorite), and then there was Nigel (not my favorite, but interesting).

November Rain

April Rain Song

Let the rain kiss you.
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops.
Let the rain sing you a lullaby.
The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk.
The rain makes running pools in the gutter.
The rain plays a little sleep-song on our roof at night -
And I love the rain.

- Langston Hughes (1902-1967).

I'm entrenched in "one of those days"...morning rain wrapped around me in the AM, and I sighed to leave bed for the giggles of an awake baby. I told him it wasn't light enough for anyone to be up...and he listened! I returned to bed to hear the dripping lullaby again. Unfortunately, no one delivers donuts around here, not that I can eat the dairy laden gold right now, and I had to get up to make breakfast. Stefan clinging (after a changing table nightmare he created), I fried up eggs, potatoes, onions and Sean's beloved canned hash (pleh), and enjoyed a whiny breakfast with the baby. On to the next ritual, nursing and catching up on my buds, who are all on the interwebs while sinking more and more into "one of those days." In between blogs and pictures (Abby has some amazing new shots and we NEED the # of her photographer!), I am not able to shake the mood, rain drops pouring outside, gray autumn skies, dark green and brown autumn, as the pines are some of the only color left to see. Kelle says we need gray...I agree...yellow wouldn't be as cheery without the contrasting gray. My grays don't even compare to hers, time to snap out of it. After some thought, mine aren't gray at all, they are void of any color, and hence, need to go. Jamie helped me out there, and it's now a link in my tool bar for any other colorless day because I love love LOVE it so much and really, life shouldn't be wasted on thoughts pallid...I'm letting go, this too shall pass. 

I also got to chat with Melissa, I love IM! I've learned more and become "closer" to her since we started hanging out online...ironic since being in the same family for 29 years didn't create more than a casual cousin relationship. She's had a string of deep posts that make me step back a regain perspective as well. While we Im'ed, she mentioned my grandmother, who passed away before any of us even wanted to know the word "Baby"...hence the "Slow Race" to see who was going to get pregnant last, a race we both stopped running without telling each other until Fritz Fetus appeared. And again with the irony, I was just thinking about Grandma over breakfast this morning, wishing she could have met Stefan, and Melissa and I talked about basically how much she'd love all the little babies here recently. More commentary on that in a future post when I can give her and a couple of others the time they deserve;). That'll be a toughie though so, how about checking this out one more time :): OK Go!

How about some sunny fall fun! He's loving his walks around the back yard (despite my aching back!), picking leaves and pine needles, and checking out every little thing. I've had a run of cool pictures and videos I'm trying to figure how to post effectively. However, I really need to finish the carpet removal and great office/bedroom switch before I go nuts blogging- not to mention all the work related hooky I'm playing this very minute. Anyway, like Kelle, I felt I needed a project on top of teaching, baby,  and all the house stuff yet undone. About 3 feet of carpet strips and a pile of carpet left to remove in my current office (hopefully I'll get through without bloodying myself further)! Nom nom, don't you wish you were me?!

All we need is one and other....Thun-der-doo-oome!

As I try to figure what direction to go with this blog, I decided to fill it with one of those "take inventory" stream of conscious posts, and included a scad of links for procrastination sake (hence the occasional blue fonts). About a  year ago "now", I "accomplished" attending my baby shower...though I did nothing besides show up and make out a registry. I hate registries, I hate telling people what I think they should buy me, I had NO clue what to put on there besides a few outfits, some pillows, and burp cloths. Oh yeah, diapers...they're important. I marveled at the fact that I was going to be a parent...(OMG, people should really issue licenses and training for this kind of job!). How overwhelming everything was!

"Do you have every thing you need?" people asked. "Yes." was the easiest short answer to get them off our backs, but really, we had no idea. We didn't even have a crib or nursery, and I knew those were typically essentials. Ultimately, we decided to go the "We'll get it when we need it" track and that really worked out well. In fact, the daunting task of being a parent was really eased by this...the minute one finds out they are pregnant doesn't mean the house has to be baby proofed, all the clothes through age one bought, all the furniture needed, in fact, a nursery wasn't even necessary at first. It wasn't until we started getting all the Stuff  (oodles and oodles of stuff and more stuff that can't be organized into any other place in a house sans-baby, which may be actually used for only a month, or 6...and ultimately really needs to go into a baby nursery) that I really felt the need to get him into his own space. Although that Stuff is most often strewn around the house, every few weeks, I go on a tirade and corral it back into his room. Trust me, that Stuff has a life of it's own, like a benign plague threatening to cover the whole house. (I just got through herding all the Stuff, so right now, I have special feelings for it!)

For 32 years, I wondered when I was going to finally grow up. My main "grown-up" example being my Mom and our family. It may be different these days, but when I was a kid, breakfast, lunch and dinner were pretty much the same time every day (at the traditional times for those meals), dishes were done after dinner, house cleaning was every Saturday (and it seemed to stay mostly clean through the week- how does that happen?), everything was predictable. Bed time was at 8 pm (the first one I can remember) and stayed that way for the longest time. Everything was very stable and extremely normal. I think was rebelling for the last 9 years, doing none of that aforementioned responsible living, as nothing has been predictable or normal since I've moved out!

The first few months of Mommyhood were a lot of trial and error and wondering if everything I believed I was doing with Baby was intrinsically wrong. Nursing proved difficult, and I supplemented with formula a few times (which felt evil in the eyes of the BF'ers [Breast Feeders]) and pumped instead of feeding him directly, but just when I was about to throw in the towel on the whole thing, it all worked out (much to the chagrin of the FF'ers [Formula feeders]). However, the battle wasn't over because when I told people I'd like to go a year, maybe more, I felt their grimaces, that I'd be "One of those mom's" nursing until Stefan was 8. It seemed no one was 100%  happy at any one point with my decisions.

Everyone constantly asked how he was eating, how long did he sleep, was it through the night? I guess there really isn't much else to talk about regarding a baby besides sleep, food, and poo, but after justifying why my answers didn't fit the answers I thought they expected, I was seriously annoyed and hated discussing my child. In fact, I still hate the "how's the weather" of baby conversations...but I hate the lack of substance of any of those "How's the weather" conversations (in case your totally lost in my mind, that is referring to trite discussions about nothing really). There was no schedule, but there shouldn't be expectations of one for the first few months- with sleep or feeding. It turns out, after about 4 months, I got to decide if we'd be on a schedule or not, though it took some internal struggling wondering if "all those people" were right, or if I was correct. In hind sight, things are much more easy since I stopped watching the clock and timing when he eats or sleeps and now I just listen to my baby. He has some very effective cues on when these things should happen, I follow them, we work well together, and that is what matters to us. Next, I discovered BLW, and thought it had some very good nutritional sense, but again, not being mainstream, I felt like I was apologizing every time I explained that we weren't doing cereal/purees on a regular basis. Then, as with every other decision,  I'd go stew over whether I had made the worst decision ever.


It took about 9-10 months, but I've realized that I've finally become an adult and Mother, and with the help of Darling Husband, we are the ones who make and live with our decisions- and we're the only ones who matter in this process. Stefan is an individual, who lives with two other individuals, who are completely different from any other individuals and how their house holds run. I've started to realize that if my plan doesn't fit anyone else's expectations, it's OK, I'm an adult, and more importantly, the Mom.. Though I espouse to follow Attachment Parenting, BLW, cloth diapering, exclusive nursing etc, those aren't the end all be all answers. Parenting is best for me when I do a little bit of this style and a little bit of that style. Some nights it works better for me to set him in his bed and let him cry for a few minutes before he drifts to sleep (or those blessed nights that happen with much more frequency, where he quietly drifts off in his bed without rocking or crying), other times we rock until he's out. Some days, he consumes a ton of solids, other's it's all milk. And for how long the milk continues to be from me is yet to be determined. I've learned that there is no one right answer, the answers always change, and ultimately, Mom and Dad are correct, with whatever we choose. I have successfully made it to adulthood- cleaning and responsibility aren't foreign concepts, and who knew...I actually can feel comfortable with parenthood.

Here's Some BLW for your eating enjoyment

It's nap time, so I'm taking a quick chance to hop on the 'puter, and put something useful up here. Stefan seems to have refined his pincher grasp and with that, getting foods into his mouth has also come along. I'm still shocked that he's actually consuming these solids, since it looks like nothing is going in, but rest assured, It's coming out. He's still consistently fickle, at 10 months, and really only eats tomato based sauces and curries without fail...oh and Squash with bacon soup was a total success. His tongue moves the solids (non-purees) around his mouth, and usually pushes most out. The cool thing with BLW is that merely doing that is enough to consider a meal a success. He has practice taking in different textures and flavors of different temperature, manipulating them in his mouth,  and works on what I consider desensitizing his gag reflex (which once rejected even the smallest bit of food), and maybe swallows something!

Rapley Weaning, Or Baby Led Weaning information at this link.

So my Saturday was a total bust. What should have been a fall day of outside yard fun and a hay ride turned into back tracking my whole morning in Thomaston and Torrington in hopes of finding my credit card, which fell out of my pocket. Anyway, all I succeeded in was wearing myself out and making my cold worse and not getting anything really productive done. So I'll cut this short, as I want to catch up on some important, top secret stuff, and some rest to get rid of the illness that plagues my body.

 "Children are a handful sometimes, A heartfull all the time..."