Valentine's Day: A Celebration of a Year of Firsts

Tomorrow is officially Valentine's Day. I usually try not to get too worked up over what is essentially a Hallmark holiday (Although I am technically female and do wind up getting caught up in it because what female doesn't grasp desperately at the one day of the year when romance is not asked but demanded from her better half? The important word here is TRY.) but not this year. This year(Second only to last year) is the do-all, end-all, of Valentine's Days.

This Valentine's Day is Critter's First Birthday. I'm officially sleeping through the night, I'm officially "nursing" free, and I'm happy about these things. In honor of this milestone event, I present to you "A Year of Firsts" in pictures.


Critter's first days with us in the hospital. Little did we know how soon he would begin ruling over us with his beautiful blue eyes, his iron fist, and a readily available screech that can shatter glass.


Critter's first day home. And the first time meeting our loyal four legged family member who couldn't come to the hospital, Kepler. Clearly, this picture shows just how early he began perfecting that screech.


Critter's first pair of overalls. I love little boys in overalls. I could eat them up. I'd still be putting Smoochie in overalls but a: he won't let me, and b: it might just send off "Children of the Corn" vibes. I'll stick with Critter for now.


First Easter Celebration. First corduroys AND first argyle (which Critter interpreted as, "Why ON EARTH did you put me in this crappy scratchy sweater, mom?" Smooch would have shown his little brother what Easter celebrating was all about, but he woke up sick and running a fever on Easter morning, so he wound up showing Critter how to be a pitiful, non-moving lump.


First Birthday invite for cousin Leyna's celebration. This was at her first birthday party. The first time I held Leyna I fell in love, and was inspired to say, "Lets have more." Critter blessed us 9 months later.


The first time Critter fell asleep while playing. This was MONUMENTAL because it was the first time he actually sat and played without screaming for me to pick him up. I think he just may have given me the time to empty the dishwasher for the first time in months. He looked so beautiful I wanted desperately to kiss him, but I was afraid I would wake him and face his wrath (and screech).


First day with the new Bumbo Seat. I loved, loved, loved this seat. It's the best purchase I've made in his entire first year. We were able to take it with us to different places so quick and easy, and he always had a place to eat, and to chill out and play- no matter where we were. Picnics, BBQ's, relatives who weren't Grandma and didn't come equipped with their own high chairs. Have I mentioned that I loved this seat? I loved it right up to the point after Christmas when he discovered he could wiggle out of it, and it was no longer safe. Now I mourn it and life will never be the same. - This endorsement was in no way paid for by the makers of Bumbo.


Critter's first obsession. I can't say I blame him. Those little dimples on his toes are so cute I could eat them myself.


First Halloween. Every year we make a trip with Family and friends to the Pumpkin farm. It is a tradition we all look forward to, which includes grilled corn on the cob and a yearly camel ride with daddy. Also- first acquired taste. Maybe next year sitting on a pile of mini pumpkins will be more fun (or mom and dad will come to their senses and realize how uncomfortable it is).


First Thanksgiving. Turkey leg, meet Critter. Critter, meet Turkey leg.


First Christmas and the tradition of the Santa Suit. My Mom has had a Santa Suit which all of the grand kids wore for their first Christmas. It looked like Smooch was going to be the last (he was 6, after all, when Critter arrived), so the suit was "altered" as a Halloween costume for Mom's new dog, Shelby. Unbeknown to me, my oldest niece, Amber, was insanely jealous that Critter would not have to endure the sheer embarrassment that is the Santa Suit (she is 14, so appearing within 15 feet of her in public is also considered an embarrassment). She glowed with happiness when she saw the newly purchased Santa Suit for the newest member of the family.

Tomorrow, the newest member of the family is turning 1. The journey of the past year has been challenging, to say the least. But I have also come to know an expansion of my heart, the most magnetic blue eyes I have ever seen, and an unending gratefulness that my ear drums are, in fact, still intact.

I love you, Critter. Happy Birthday, Little Dude.

Weight Loss Wednesday

I have been attacked, infiltrated, and body slammed by cold germs. Or virus. Or whatever it is. Needless to say, when my head feels like it's been filled with eternally expanding goop, the motivation for exercise seems to escape me. I did get two work outs in this past week, but other than that, I have put things on hold.

-1

I did lose 1 pound. And I have come to the conclusion that, sick or not sick, I need to hop back on the exercise train this week. Critter's first birthday is on Saturday, and we will be celebrating. I most certainly do not intend to gain weight, nor do I plan to duplicate my 3 day Super Bowl celebration.

This week, my two biggest goals are the following:

1. Getting back into the exercise routine.

2. Learning how to celebrate in moderation.

I'm hoping it will be a good one.

Sweet Dreams Are Made Of These

There seems to be an overabundance of germs in our household these days. Bonehead is beginning to feel better due to antibiotics, but the germs have moved on to greener pasture- the other three members of the house. I think they're playing the world domination game and are winning. I picked up cold medicine (s) for us a couple of days ago, and wisely chose Alka-Seltzer cold medicine for me. It was an easy choice, really. All I had to do was remember how quickly it kicks in compared to other medicines, and although I hate it, I have to shout out a ginormous kudos to its "effervesence" ability to both clear my nasal passages and knock me out with its beautiful antihistimine.

Last night, after the cold medicine kicked in, I dragged myself up the stairs to bed and quickly fell into lumberjack land while Bonehead read his book next to me. I'm snoring away peacefully when I am snapped back into the land of the awake by the following scenario:

"Chas."

(As I fully jump 3 inches off the mattress and begin shaking) "What?"

"Critter's awake."

I take a nanosecond to process, look at my beloved Bonehead amidst the blinding glare from the overhead light, and begin laughing. "You have GOT to be kidding me."

"What?" With all the innocence he could muster.

"Did you just wake me up to tell me Critter is awake when YOU WERE ALREADY AWAKE?"

"Yeah but (You're not fooling me buddy, I can see your gears spinning desperately here) I don't know what it is you do."

" I go down, walk into his room, and give him his binky. That's it."

Bonehead gets out of bed, puts his slippers on, and throws me one last desperate glance, "Fine, but if I fall and break my neck on the way downstairs, it will be ALL YOUR FAULT."

As I roll over and drift back into dreamland, it's all I can do to keep from thinking,"If you do, I'll miss you terribly. Starting TOMORROW morning."

Bonehead.

Weight Loss Wednesday

It's not good this week, but I had a feeling this was going to happen. In fact, I had such a strong feeling, I haven't stepped on the scale since Saturday. I will make no excuses. Here are some of the indicating factors I recognized - some I should have been able to control, and some I have no control over. When mixed all together they spell a weight gain of 4 pounds.

+4

I didn't exercise as much. Only 3 days, and not as long as I had been.

I cheated on my diet, not one day but 3 days. Apparently I felt the need for a pre-Superbowl and post-Superbowl splurge as well as the actual game day. What? Not everyone makes it a three day affair? Trust me, this chick is going to do every thing in her power not to allow that to happen again.

Bonehead was generous enough to share his germs with me, so the past 5 or so days I've felt pretty rough.

I can pretty much guarantee that in my weight loss endeavor, every 4-5 weeks there will be some sort of weight gain, which will be mostly water. It's a fact of life for me, and it happens like clockwork.

This week I am picking myself up, dusting myself off, and working on the things above that I can control. Exercise, Food Choices, and Water- in that order. Now if you'll excuse me, I suppose I should get Critter down for his nap and begin working on my February mileage.

The End Of An Era

DISCLAIMER: ACCORDING TO BONEHEAD'S REVIEW OF MY POST, THIS IS A "TMI" POST. IF YOU ARE A MALE READER, YOU MAY WANT TO CONSIDER SKIPPING TODAY'S POST AND RETURNING FOR A VISIT IN THE FUTURE. OR IF YOU'RE ANYTHING LIKE MY BELOVED BONEHEAD, YOU'LL READ ANYWAY NOW THAT YOU'VE BEEN TOLD NOT TO.

It's hard to believe Critter's first birthday is less than 2 weeks away. When I look at Smooch in all his 7 year old glory, I see how fast the time goes, but now that I am facing Critter's inevitable growth into toddler-dom I realize it's not supposed to go quite THAT fast. It seems like just yesterday I was begging for a full night's sleep. And really, now that I think of it, last month isn't that far removed from yesterday.

He's reached some very important milestones on his journey to the big zero-one. He's sleeping through the night now, granted he's up at 5 freeking thirty every morning, but I am eternally grateful that it is indeed technically considered morning. He has three teeth, and his hair is almost long enough for his first haircut. To be realistic, this mom is probably going to attempt to keep her baby a baby long enough for him to look a bit like a girl before caving into that first haircut.

He's my last. I'm going down kicking and screaming when this one tries to grow up on me. I enjoy watching him roll around on my livingroom floor and growl at his toys. I find it endearing that he still tries to pick everything up with his feet. I could watch him plow his face across the carpet with his butt in the air all day long, and I never ever get tired of his chatter which doesn't have any words but contains immesurable meaning.

Although I am trying desperately to treasure every moment of my baby being a baby, we reached a milestone yesterday that I have been anxiously awaiting. The "I'm almost not nursing anymore" milestone.

Let me begin by sharing that this child has been biting me since the hospital. And he's always been unpredictable about it. He'll be all nice and sweet and snuggly until you are least expecting it then CHOMP. Believe me I have been firm with the boy. I may be an all around push over, but there are certain areas of my life where I have a zero tolerance policy. Biting and whining just happen to be two of those areas. And although he hasn't felt the need to gnaw on his buffet table lately, I'm pretty sure he's just waiting for the perfect moment to leave a lasting impression.

Needles to say, I am highly motivated to have this boy weened by the time he celebrates his first birthday on Valentine's Day. With Valentine's Day just under two weeks away, I'm on the ball. As of yesterday morning I dropped the daily feedings down to one per day. I gave him a bottle when he woke up in place of his morning feeding from mom.

And then I Google Chatted with Bonehead that the ungrateful little dude didn't even miss me. So Bonehead planted the seed of "then give him a bottle tonight too, and you'll be done." Now, to give Bonehead due credit, he does not own the equipment (which ironically was the very same excuse I gave when it was time to potty train Smooch-That's YOUR job, honey. I don't own that equipment.) so I tried to explain that it wasn't quite that simple. I explained that due to supply and demand, a mother needs to slowly lower the number of feedings until her body has had adequate enough warning to stop. But I did tell him that I'd play it by ear and see how I was feeling when it came time for the evening feeding.

And at 7pm, when it was bedtime for the toothy little Critter, I felt good so he got a full bottle instead. By 9pm I was beginning to feel the error of my mistake but I figured all would be fine.

I had a fitful night of dreaming about cannonballs being strapped to my chest. And did you know diapers these days can EXPLODE? I guess giving the kid 8 ounces of milk just before bed wasn't the best executive decision I've made recently. There were these little silicone beads everywhere. So I cleaned up the baby, and trotted him off to wake up his brother. They like to hang out in bed together for a minute in the mornings to play, so I used that time to clean up the bed. This included removing the mattress and propping it over the top of the crib for easy changing accessibility. As I was changing the sheet, the darn thing somehow snapped me in the 'cannonball' and made me drop the mattress onto the top of the crib, creating a ripple of "boing, boing, boing" (again) right in the 'cannonball'.

When the tears faded, I promptly went and picked up Critter and nursed him like there was no tomorrow. And after making a pot of coffee without putting any coffee in the filter, I am calling a 'do over' on my day.

After facing cannonballs, urine soaked silicone diaper confetti, and a 30 minute wait for coffee, I feel strangely entitled.