Curing the Monday Blues

I take so many pictures of dinner time. 

Maybe it's my love of food.

Maybe it's trying to capture each new first.

Maybe it's just that I cannot get enough of my little pumpkin pie being so stinkin' cute!

That persnickety spoon again.

That giggle.

It may be the sweetest sound this side of heaven.

After dinner, it's bath time for the Baker Boy!

I've gotten to where I just bathe him in the sink. 

It's super easy and very convenient!

And when he makes a mess and splashes water all over the floor, it's no biggie! 

I just wipe the floor with a towel. 

Talk about multitasking.

Clean baby, clean floor.

Go Mama, Go!

Baker pulled up for the first time. 

In the sink. 

Holding onto the faucet.

Talk about scaring the bejesus out of me! 

Cheese and rice, kid!

He now thinks this is the coolest thing.

And is trying it everywhere.

Everywhere is much preferred to the sink. 

Much.

Waiting on his daddy to come home.

We sat here for at least ten minutes.

He'd watch.

And then sing.

And then clap.

And then call him, "Daaaadddddaaaa."

And then look.

And if those sweet baby giggles didn't, this, y'all, will cure any Monday blues.

Savoring Spring Break

We are savoring our last few blissful hours of Spring Break.

I'm bummed that it's almost over, but am enjoying reflecting on a wonderful week with my little family.

I captured these few pictures of my little ham on Friday afternoon.

If I didn't tell you, you would never know that it was meltdown central at our house.

Literally. 

Melt. Down. Cen. Tral. 

In these pictures, Baker is looking at a spoon.

A spoon, for crying out loud.

He has never been uber attached to a toy. 

He doesn't even take a pacifier. 

But there was no parting with this beloved spoon.

By Friday afternoon, there were spoons stashed in all corners of the house.

Just in case.

When the spoon was in hand, he was a happy camper.

When he dropped the spoon, or lost the spoon...RUN FOR COVER! 

 

Seriously.

A spoon.

Still a spoon.

Our dear parents are the sweetest.

Mine practically begged to keep my little one overnight Friday and 

Brian's parents offered Marriott points, so we skipped town for a mini vacay. 

It was fabulous!

I still have the hardest time leaving Baker.

To preserve my dignity, I won't say how many times I kissed him before I left, called to hear his voice, or begged for pictures of his time away.

I'm smitten with my precious boy, it's true.

But, Brian and I needed to take a break for just us. 

We savored our time together and Baker had a blast!

We promised to do it again very soon. 

We are so thankful for such wonderful family.

They are such a blessing. 

Getaways are great, but there's no place like home!

I cannot believe it's time to start brushing teeth around here.

Adventures anew.

I love each and every one.

 

I'm currently switching between computer screens while holding the most perfect sleeping baby. 

Blogging and first birthday planning.

I think I'll publish before editing, cease the birthday looksie-ing, and just savor my last few blissful hours of Spring Break by holding the most perfect sleeping baby.

Thoughts from a Perfect Mother (my take on a lovely post from Kelly Stamps)

This may be totally frowned upon in Blogger world.

To read another's post and allow it to inspire one of your own.

But, I'll play the I didn't know, I'm new to all of this card.

And beg for forgiveness instead of permission.

The truth is, I love reading other blogs that inspire.

Be it a new style, scripture reading, a new recipe.
 I love this community!

Kelly Stamps is a beautiful woman of Christ with two precious girls.

She writes a lovely blog, Kelly's Korner, which I encourage you to read.

You will be blessed.

She's real, and honest, and encouraging, and someone I have come to admire.

This week, she wrote a post entitled "Thoughts from a Perfect Mother."

And while she's all the way in Arkansas, I could have sworn she glimpsed into my less than perfect life for inspiration for this post.

The words she wrote were the words I wanted to say, but was scared to say out loud, and couldn't say as gracefully if I tried.

I too, have been guilty of judging other mothers, or casting down eyes at them as I pass their tantrum-throwing-toddler in the aisle of Target, 

or mentally added their words and actions to my mental list of 

"Things This Mama Will Never, Ever, Ever Do or Say to My Children." 

This list. 

It exists. 

Although it gets shorter each day as I mark things off, realizing that nothing is sacred. 

And to never, ever, ever say you will never, ever, ever do something.

Before I became a mother, I internally chastised others for letting their children rule their lives. 

That they no longer had a name, for it was replaced with "(insert child's name) Mom."

How dare they not make time for their husband, or their friends.
Trips to the grocery store were their chosen locale for a few minutes of solitude?
Primetime television shows were replaced with Mickey Mouse Clubhouse?
Car trips were invaded by Silly Songz 6. Oh the madness!
And toys. All over the house? What happened to one room? Or at least one corner of each room?

Oh, ignorance is bliss.

Or just plain ignorant.

This week, with a teething ten month old, who also has strep throat for the second time in 13 days, I have been the mother causing others to turn up their noses.

And this isn't the first time.

It doesn't take a sick baby to cause me to be a less than perfect mother.

It happens every single day. 

Many, many times each day.

I have complained about Baker going to sleep early, saddened that I don't have enough time with him after work. But last night, I actually sighed a breath of relief when he finally closed those sweet brown eyes and rested those chubby arms and replaced words with blissful snores. 

The pitiful eyes that peered up at me were finally closed, the arms that reached high beckoning me to hold him were tucked angelically beneath his chin, and the little lips that cried "Mama" all day long were finally silenced. 

What kind of mother celebrates their child going to sleep?

I had prayed for this child, my sweet Baker, long and hard and earnestly,

and now I just wanted him to go to sleep for a few minutes of bliss?

Thoughts from a perfect mother, hmph!

What's perfect about that? 

I never realized that this job, 

this job I love more than any other I have ever had the privilege of possessing, 

would be so difficult. 

That I would fail far more often than I succeed. 

That each day would have different trials. 

That when I finally figured something out, or mastered a schedule, it would inevitably change. 

Fortunately, God's promise of new mercies every morning is true.

I got to tackle being Baker's Mom again today.

And I pray I get to tackle this mom thing again tomorrow.

It's a wonderfully exhausting job, 

one that I am far from perfect at,

but one that I am eternally grateful to have.

Slow Down, Sugar Baby

My little Sugar Baby is 10 Months old.

10 Months.

Wowza.

Stats: The Good Stuff

Weight - 21.3 pounds - 72 Percentile on "Typical Baby" chart

Length - 28.5 inches 73 Percentile on a "Typical Baby" chart

Clothing - 9-12 Month Clothes

Diapers - Level 4 

Toofies - Currently sprouting his first two teeth

Milestones - Sitting up, trying so hard to crawl and stand up on his own

Bottles - Drinking 5-6 bottles per day at 6 oz per bottle

Food - Eating mostly anything we put on his tray 

(I am still uber conservative with what he eats - yes, I am that mama

but don't you worry my boy is a-okay and has the cutest baby blub to prove it)

Drinking - Drinking from a straw and sippy cup - like a boss

Talking - Says Mama, Dada, Baba (for both bye-bye and bottle)

Signing - Signs frequently used words

Sleep - Sleeps 6:30-5:30 with 3-4 naps throughout the day

Pictures: The Really Good Stuff

I have a love/hate relationship with him dressing in big boy clothes.

Love how handsome he looks.

Hate how big he looks.

This may be one of my favorite pictures ever.

His little open shirt,

bare feet positioned just so,

looking at his daddy, 

curl on the top,

sweet little lips.

My boy.

Little stud muffin.

Slow down, Sugar Baby.

You listen here, Daddy.

His little personality is being defined more everyday.

I think I love it!

Oh my!

Refrigerator magnets.

Be still my heart.

Well baby check today.

Brace yourselves.

These are awesome.

Who says you can't have fun on the floor in a doctor's office with a forty-two and a half minute wait.

It takes a lot of brushing to get hair this uncontrollable.

And quite possibly my favorite picture of my favorite little sugar baby ever.

Hambone smile. Check!

Knee dimples. Check!

Cuteness overload. Check!

See. Personality.

At its finest.

Sugar Baby, I love you.

To the moon and back.

So while it breaks my heart that you are getting so big so fast,

don't stop.

Keep doing exactly what you're doing.

Your daddy and I are along for this incredible ride and are loving all the twists and turns.

This life. This day. This breath.

We love it. 

I want to say Slow Down, Sugar Baby.

Baker Boy, stop with all the growing.

But I can't do it.

Because the growing is good.

The talking is good.

The eating is good.

The drinking is good.

The signing is good.

The sleeping is good.

The sitting and the almost crawling and the almost standing is good.

But this, this getting to be your mommy.

Sugar Baby, it's the greatest gift ever.

Tales of a Not So Tiny Teether

Baker does things in his own time.

Not too slow, not too fast.
Just right.

 

I thought he was sprouting a tooth on Thanksgiving Day.

I even tweeted this picture

 

 

convinced I spied the beginnings of a tiny toofie for Baby Baker.

 

Wrong.

 

I wouldn't dare stick my finger in that little shark's mouth again this morning.

You know the adage,

"Shame on you if you fool me once, shame on me if you fool me twice."

 

I didn't realize he was teething.

I knew he had been more fussy,

but he has just gotten over a wicked case of strep throat.

A true "lap baby," if you will.

That's a nice way of saying my babe is rotten and won't do anything unless he is being held by yours truly.

 

But, when I rubbed his gums this morning, there was no denying.

At just two days shy of ten months,

Baker Boy is getting a tooth!

 

I had purchased some teething tablets and they are worth much more than the $9.98 I paid for them.

 They are gold!

He's also been gnawing on frozen squash and cold baby carrots.

A friend suggested rubbing vanilla extract on his gums, and the doctor suggested doing the same with Baby Benadryl.

We are willing to try anything, ANYTHING at this point!

 

And, I made teething biscuits this morning using a recipe I found on Pinterest.

It calls for ground oats, coconut oil, bananas, and water.

Easy peasy!

 

I was going to put a link in for nominations for Mother of the Year.

Homemade teething biscuits, a winner for sure!

But then, the only cookie cutters I could find were Halloween.

So, my boy is currently chowing down on pumpkins, ghosts, and witches,

In March.

I politely decline the nomination.

 

I'm savoring these last pictures of my little's gummy grin.

 

 

 

 

Yes, this is a Minnie Mouse onesie.

On my son.

Combination of teething and antibiotics.

I'm just thankful his school sent him home in something since there were only two changes of clothes in his diaper bag.

Just like his mama, averaging three wardrobe changes per day.

Major blowout city.

Although let's be very, very clear.

We change clothes for very, very different reasons.

Very.

We're currently taking bets on who changes diapers around here.

 

 

 

Mother of the Year, for sure.

I Choose This

Before you hate me for posting this, let me first state that this attitude typically plays second fiddle to its evil twin sister. I wish I could say that my first thought was to always see the good, celebrate trials, praise God in the storms of life.
 

That I had a Pollyanna attitude and found the glad in the bad and sad.

But I don't.
I'm guilty of having bad days and bringing every single person I encounter right down with me.
Sometimes, some days, some things just suck.

 

Here lately, my attitude's evil twin sister has been keeping her big fat mouth shut, and Pollyanna has been making her presence known.

 

Or at least, that's what I'm striving for.

 

This weekend, Baker has been sick.

As a dog.

I could rant, and rave, and complain, and cry, and go on and on.

Poor, poor pitiful Baker.

Poor, poor, pitiful me.

But instead, I found the good.

 

I got to make a precious memory with my sweet boy this morning.

Doing what I used to do with my mama.

He took a bubble bath in the kitchen sink.

We watched the cars pass,

and counted the birds in the Crepe Myrtle,

and pointed at the daffodils lining the perimeter of the yard,

and celebrated the beautiful day God made.

If Baker had been well, our Monday morning would have looked drastically different.

 

 

I choose this day.

And I am glad.

 

There are other instances, too.

 

Baker being born with Down Syndrome.

There are days that are really difficult.

Days that are overrun with therapies and doctor appointments and hearing tests and the like.

Days when I hear coworkers and friends and complete strangers utter words about being "slow," or even worse, using the "r-word."

Days when I hear others discussing milestones their children have conquered, and I am made aware of mine's delays.

Days when I daydream of our future, and I worry.

But my son being born with Down Syndrome has allowed me privileges for which I am forever grateful.

We daily get to see the good in others,

to see how our family can be used for the glory of the Lord,

to make new friends,

to celebrate miracles everyday,

to cherish sitting up and rolling over and eating and drinking and grasping - we don't take anything for granted in this house.

 

I choose this.

And I am glad.

 

As I type this, I pray my words don't come across as preachy or condescending,

but as encouraging and hopeful.

 

In this life, there are trials.

There are difficult and challenging circumstances, for sure.

Most of which are beyond our control.

What we can control; however, is how we respond.

In the face of pain and adversity,

what is your attitude?

 

Are you going through a divorce?

Or struggling with a miscarriage?

Are you raising a child with special needs?

Or do you have a very typical child in the terrible two's that is testing your once profound sense of sanity?

Are you single and praying for a partner?

Or have you just received a life changing diagnosis?

Are you struggling to pay your bills?

Or stressed to the hilt.

 

Pollyanna was on to something...

 

Find the good.

Find the opportunity to be glad.

To use this experience, this trial to minister to someone.

To make a new friend.

To pray with someone.

To leave someone better than you found them.

Or just to smile when your face has broadcast such a prominent frown.

 

 It won't be easy.

It's much easier to be this girl.

 

 

But, you get to choose.

Which will it be?

 

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance." James 1:2

Saturdays rule, strep drools

Friday afternoon, Baker started throwing up and running a fever of over 103.

 

Cue mommy panic mode.

 

This was after we were up the night before with a croupy cough and wheezing something fierce.

There is no sound more scary than a wheezing baby. 

We reacclimated ourselves with his nebulizer and slept in toboggans.

Trips outside in the bitter cold with his daddy cause his croup to subside like nothing else.

Harley, our four-legged child, loved it!

Company at 2:30 on the back porch - let's partay!

 

We finally went to the doctor late Friday afternoon.

When we got there, his fever was still sky high, so they stripped him down and gave him a popsicle.

Whew knew Pedialyte made popsicles!?

Mama here is gonna have to get it together.

Baker loved it!

 

 

They ran tests for strep, flu, and RSV, and did a CBC.

 

We didn't leave until after 6:00.

 You would have thought we were the first morning appointment as much time as they took with my boy.

I love our doctors and nurses and love how well they take care of Baker.

 

Turns out, we are battling our first bout with strep, and it's currently winning.

 

Like, kicking our butt.

 

Speaking of...

 

 

I couldn't resist this little cheek!

 

It really hasn't been so bad.

It's been snowing today.

And Baker and I haven't left the house.

He's spent his day in my arms.

And this has been my view.

This and watching snow fall from my living room window.

 

 

I love a sleeping baby.

He wakes up every so often, touches my face, utters "mama," and then closes his sick eyes once again.

I just watch him, and while doing so, 

I rock him,

and I kiss his flush cheeks

and I whisper desperate prayers for his healing.