Sunday, June 24

I can not tell a lie

Today I have struggled. It started off well enough but the afternoon wasn't kind to me.

-I cleaned up Neil's pee twice. Once in his pack n play and once one the front porch. I was trying to let him air out and he felt very to pee.

-I ate bad sushi. My mistake.

-I spent all afternoon in the bathroom. As far as I concerned Little Tokyo can go to h.e. double hockey sticks. To keep things real interesting I did it all with my hands behind my back a baby on my lap.

-I was attacked by squirrel that came out of a hole in the trash can. Not a good scenario for someone in the aforementioned situation. Lord help me!

-Lastly, I was approached at Walgreens in the parking lot to pick up someone's RX for them. It started with, "excuse me mam, I am not a druggie.". When I was hesitant to roll down my window they continued. "I ain't gonna attack you.". Umm, no thanks. And John Quinones, if that was being secretly recorded for your tv show...tough spit.

That's all I got folks.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Thursday, June 14

Baby Boy is 7 months and might be an animal

My sweet little biscuit is 7 months old.  Holy cliche, where did the time go?  I know right!  I'll be completely honest with you, while I loved my little 7 lb bundle of joy for the first few months of his life, 7 months is way better.  Of course I am starting to realize how much I took for granted the fact I could leave him laying on my bed while I showered or the ability to lay them on a play mat in the living room so you could cook supper.  Those days are long gone.  But the trade off is remarkable.

A newborn is a lovable blob of baby, but a 7 month old is a diaper full of personality.

I get big gummy smiles in the morning, shrieks of laughter, and a sleepy head on my shoulder at night.  I know his likes and dislikes, where to tickle him to make him laugh, or that when he starts "singing" he will be out like a light in seconds.

At 7 months old I feel like I can safely say he sleeps through the night.  It was a long road to get there, and he technically has been doing it for almost two months now, but I have been afraid to talk about it for fear of jinxing it.  Now that I have crossed that bridge I am deathly afraid of going back to the 2 am wake-ups.  Neil sits up like a champ to play with his toys although normally he chooses to chew on Duece's nasty stuffed squirrel more than anything else.  It literally makes me cringe, but I appreciate that Duece is nice enough to share cause let's face it...the dog has some space issues.

Neil also knows that cords are off limits, but in baby language that obviously means, eat those cords.  We are full on in the stage of getting into things.  He may not be walking, but doing the army crawl will get you where you need to go and he knows it.  The funny thing is that most of the time he doesn't use his right leg, just drags it behind him because he has no choice.  This skill comes in handy when trying to get to the lamp cord, the tv cord, the computer charger, the iPad charger, or the high dryer.  I have resorted to strategically placing less interesting new toys around the living room in hopes that he will decide to actually play with one instead of pulling the lamp off of the end table.  As much as this new skills creates anxiety, I do love the fact that I can call his name, he will turn his head and scrawl (that's scoot crawl folks) over to me.

The kid can eat.  He has started to turn down his nose to bottles and much prefers the delicacies of pureed peaches and freshly mushed green beans.  This has become a struggle for us at bottle time, but we are working through it.  He totally thinks now that whatever is on my plate must be in his hands.  Because of this I have started to let him eat some food off my plate, which he thinks he loves.  In reality all he does is put it on his tongue for a few seconds before pushing it out of his mouth.  He'll figure it out because its food and he will find a way to get it in his belly.

Just in the last week he started growling, like an animal ( I will say animal because it isn't nice to compare your child to a demon).  I am not gonna like, it kind of freaks me out.  Its like watching an episode of Law and Order late at know it is gonna make it hard to sleep but you love it so you keep watching.  So he you, at me, at his toys, at his food.

Proof that he growls and eats plastic cords.

Watching Neil grow up is such a weird thing for me now, I know that everything I see him do, every new noise I hear him make, or the inquisitive look he gets on his face when he is figuring out a new toy is something that Matt doesn't get to see.  I rambled on in this blog about him today and I ask myself why at 7 months did I decide to spend so much time on it?  But the answer is simple.  When Matt was with us everyday I knew he got so see exactly what I saw.  Now we are in a different situation and I want to make sure I don't forget and Matt gets to "see" what I see.

Tuesday, June 12

I wasn't so much ticked off as I was ticked on and set on fire. Literally.

Took Neil on his first trip to "The Camp".  We were looking forward to a weekend filled with boat rides, fried seafood, and all around laziness.  Instead we got rain, laziness, and a what could potentially be a case of Lyme disease.  You see my friends,  one of the huge downfalls of moving back south (aside from the smothering humidity) is that I am once again forced to actually walk my dog.  Can you believe it?  At my parent's house and anywhere else I take him that isn't equipped with the lazy dog owners best friend, the fence, I have to physically leash him up and trot him up and down the road saying, "Poop Duece!".

On one said walk this weekend, in the particularly high swamp/grass on the side of the road, that was even nastier because of all of the rain, I picked up a little hitch hiker.

A tick on my butt-thigh.  Yes, my butt-thigh.  You know the part where your butt cheek and your thigh meet?  That one.  I can only guess he hoped on because he thought I was a can of cottage cheese, too bad he was disappointed to learn it was only fat white woman.  I was standing there talking to my dad, and subconsciously knew something wasn't right, so I reached around to check it out.  My dad said, "Why are you scratching your butt?" Embarrassed I said, "No, my thigh."  And since I didn't really know why I figured I might need to check it out in the mirror.  Off I went...

Have you ever tried to look at your butt-thigh up close in the mirror, apparently it isn't that easy.  Several acrobatic moves later I determined that it was in fact a tick and that it would require surgery to get it off.  Unfortunately they only people around to help me were Duece, Neil, and my dad.  Since Duece only respond to food and Neil hasn't quite perfected his surgical skills I had to ask my dad.  Could I have waited until my mom got there?   Yes, probably I could have, but I didn't want to risk Mr. Tick getting comfortable and setting up camp for good.  I thought it would merely require steady hands and tweezers.  WRONG.  Leaning over the counter top with your butt-thigh exposed while your dad comes at you with a lighter is not a fun thing.

Me:  "Is it going to burn me?"
Dad: "It shouldn't."

Um...sounds like a plan?  I think!?

While it did get a little warm, I never actually went up in flames (thank God).  Mr. Tick hadn't even started to dine on me because he was still flat as a rock.  He was disappointed about the whole cottage cheese thing, I tell ya. After my narrow escape, I had to give myself a full tick check in the bathroom.  It was a blast, you should try it sometime!

Sunday, June 3

Back in the 'Sip

It has been a crazy few weeks, but Neil and I (and Duecey) are back in Mississippi. For good? That is up in the air. Let's just say for the next little while at least. While I love being back "home", I wish it was under other circumstances. Matt left for his third (possibly final) deployment last week, so in true weenie army wife fashion I high tailed it back to humidity heaven Mississippi to the open arms of 4...count 'em 4 grandparents. Mama's gonna have some helpin hands! Can I get a hallelujah?

Cause let me tell you...this one is gonna be trouble.
The night before Matt left we went to dinner. It was the first time that Neil got to sit in a high chair at the dinner table with everyone else and he LOVED it. After a few close calls with the tea, knives, forks, and marinara sauce we found something to keep him entertained.

The kid loves cucumbers. We let him have at me and left a nice little mess on the floor. I still have to get over the mess we will now make at restaurants. I kept finding myself apologizing to our sweet waitress for the cucumber ornaments that Neil decorated the floor with. Oh well, he was happy and all parents quickly learn that while out to eat with a monster don't rock the boat.

Neil has gotten really good at passing out his hugs and daddy is one of his best clients. It is was so bittersweet to watch these two together.

Our last family photo until daddy comes home.

Hopefully I'm back to blogging for a while!

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