5-Month-Old Raspberries

My son loves raspberries…no, not those raspberries…but the spitting raspberries! 

All day long…raspberries.

Feeding time…raspberries. (BTW, I got peaches in the face with that one.)

Diaper change…raspberries.

Bath time…raspberries.

Every waking moment of his day has been spent blowing raspberries…and I’ve got 10 soaked bibs to prove it!

Enjoy your peek at 49 seconds in the life of a 5-month-old.

Missed Out on “Mommy of the Year”

Most days I strive to earn that coveted “Mommy of the Year” award.  You know, the one where your child is always on schedule, fed, bathed, and generally thriving.  Well, today I missed the mark…by a long shot.  Put it this way, I’m not even a runner up.

This morning was my son’s first pediatric dermatologist appointment.  Pediatric dermatology is a specialty practice so I had to take Baby B an hour away to see a doctor from the children’s hospital.  (They make rounds a few times a week at various locations.)  This hospital – an hour away – was the nearest option for me.  Ok, cool.  I can handle that.

Usually for doctor’s appointments I have my mom accompany me to sit with him in the backseat and to help me out when needed.  Ideal, right?  But (unfortunately for me) today my mom – who should probably be anointed as a living saint IMHO – was also watching my 3-month-old nephew during the day.  So, I was on my own.  For the first time since he was born.  At five months old.

Ok.  Great.  I can do this, right?  Yeah…no.

First indication that today was just not my day – I get pulled over for speeding A BLOCK AWAY FROM THE HOSPITAL!  Nice cop.  No ticket.  But still.

Then, in the parking lot, pulling out the brand-new stroller that has yet to be used and…

Stuck.  Couldn’t open it.  Roughly 10 minutes spent trying to figure this thing out.  Should’ve carried the manual with me.  I must’ve looked like a complete moron fighting with a stroller.

“Come on, you stupid thing!  Open!  I’m late! UGH!”

I then noticed the plastic hook on the side.  I guess I am a moron. 

Anyway, quickly loaded up the baby and started to power-walk towards the entrance.  Strong gust of wind…and…there goes the blanket.  In the middle of the road.

Wow…what a mess, huh?

Haha…thought it was over?  Not a chance.

Finally settled in at the doctor’s office, baby’s clothes off, placed on the scale, and…

Spit-up.  You have GOT to be kidding me!!!  Gotta clean it up now.  So I (being “Mom of the Year” and all) WALK AWAY from my son (who can roll over) to get a blanket from the diaper bag.  Yeah – leaving him alone in front of the nurse.  Not my proudest moment.

I won’t be venturing out of the house with him alone again anytime soon.

Lesson learned:  From now on, I’ll just go for “Mommy of the Day”.

Weekend Wrap-Up: I Am Sick & Tired of Weekends!

Yes, you read it right…sick & tired. Uh-huh!

Weekends are exhausting…more so than my 9-5.  Constantly on the go.  Whether it’s running errands, attending an activity, or just doing housework – sometimes I can’t wait to get back to the office on Monday morning.

Honestly, I don’t know how you stay-at-home moms do it.  On the weekends kids have to be accounted for, fed, bathed, and entertained – all while doing whatever else needs to be done that weekend.  I’m exhausted just thinking about it.

Take this weekend for example:

Friday night – my brother and family stop by for dinner (and, yes, I cooked too) followed by a visit from my BFF and her family.  When did I rest?  I didn’t.

Saturday – up at 7am with Baby B.  Morning spent doing laundry, cleaning up the kitchen, and other housework/wifey/mommy duties.  Then – time to get ready for dinner to celebrate my sister’s birthday with family. (Olive Garden – YUM!)  But first, made a stop at BuyBuyBaby for some needed items.  By the time I got home, I was so spent that I fell asleep within an hour of being home.  Fed Baby and knocked out.  On the couch.  With Baby B in his swing. Ugh.  Resting? Not a chance.

Sunday – up at 7:30 with Baby B.  Errands and Costco and Target (had to pick up gift).   Back home to Baby. Fed, bathed, dressed and out the door for a birthday party.  More housework then time for bed. Time to relax? Barely.

See what I mean?  Tired.  Burned-out.  Just plain pooped.

Come Monday morning, I get to drive to the office and sit.  Eight hours of blissful rest.  No matter how busy my day is at work, it’s never as busy as my weekends.  And – I know what you’re thinking – spending time with family is so much more rewarding, stop making so many plans, yadda, yadda, yadda.  I know all this.  But I just have a busy life.  It is what it is.

But, that’s it!  No more jam-packed weekends!  A quick look at my calendar tells me I have no plans this weekend.  YESSS!  Think it’ll happen?  We’ll see…

I did manage to take this priceless pic at the birthday party though…my favorite boys.  Two peas in a pod. 

About Baby B

When I first found out I was pregnant I was estatic, elated, sooooo happy!  Immediately I had visions of baby dresses, pigtails and dolls.  My daughter would soon be eleven so it had been a LONG time since I had a little peanut growing inside of me.

All doctor appointments went well and I couldn’t wait for the first images of my little girl.

Then, I heard those words.  “Congratulations!  You’re having a boy!”

Hold up.  A what?!?!  NOOOOOOO!  That can’t be right.  Check again, I’m having a girl. 

Nope.  Absolutely not.  Most definitely a boy.  In that moment all my dreams of finally having another little girl to play dress-up with were over.  In an instant.  I’m not proud to say that I was disappointed…a little.

No baby dresses.  No pigtails.  No dolls.

Instead, those images were replaced with baseballs, footballs, and blue.  Lots of blue.

What was I going to do?  I don’t know the first thing about sports.  I’m going to have to run?  Dribble a ball?  What was I going to do with a boy?

Then, my boy came.  Baby B.  Cutest. Baby. Ever.

 

Immediately, I was in love.  I wanted to eat his chubby cheeks.  He was beautiful.  Everything I never knew I always wanted.

Now, at five months (he will be on Wednesday) he is my world.  I love his screeches sounds, his face, his everything.  The way he looks at me with those adorable still-grey eyes that tell me that he loves me right back.  Baby B.  My son.

AND…he even looks like me!

 

When he was born I was convinced that I was merely an incubator…both of my kids resemble their fathers.  I was only necessary to bake ‘em for 9 months, I thought.  Then my dad sent me that photo and, FINALLY, I can see ME in Baby B.

Now I know exactly what I will do as he gets older.

Love him.  Always.

That’s all a child really needs anyway.