Got Milk?

So, further on the topic of Jake, he's got two teeth through, the front bottom ones. Today he finally cut one of the top front ones, and he's got swollen gums showing that the second top one and the two on either side of the bottom two will be here shortly. So that's two teeth, one nub, and three pending. Although Owen got his first two teeth nearly two months before Jake did, he got his second two in May, so Jake is right on track with that.

I am still nursing him. He eats a lot of baby and regular food, three meals a day, plus snacks. But he nurses when he first wakes, generally following a meal, and then a few times before bed (he's been sleeping through for a little while now, touch wood, so not feeding during the night). He never has taken a bottle, but he'll drink from a straw, sippie, or even a regular cup. However, he'll only take water. He's not interested in breast milk from anything but the source, or in formula however it's presented.

This is okay with me. By this point with Owen, we were about to give up nursing. He was a biter, and with two teeth, it was bad. I tried all kinds of things to get him to stop. I would yell, put him down, tell him "no" sternly, and he would look up at me and laugh. The only time he wouldn't bite was if he woke up in the night to nurse - he would be half asleep the entire time. Jake tried gumming me once or twice before his teeth even came in. I did the same routine with him, but he would look up, and give me the crumple face: that pouty look that means he's about to cry. He got it - after a couple of times, he stopped trying to bite me. Hasn't even tried once since he's gotten his two chompers, so I'm not worried about these new ones. With Owen, I was in tears.

With Owen, once the top teeth came in, not only was he biting, he was drawing blood. Since he wouldn't take formula, I didn't want to stop breastfeeding, because he wasn't eating enough to get all the vitamins and nourishment he needed yet from real food alone, but I was in a lot of pain, and too sore to pump. I don't know if I cried more from the pain, or from not knowing what to do. Finally, after a particularly bloody battle, Steve took Owen, got a bottle of formula, and sat down, determined to get him to take it. And you know what that cheeky monkey did? Took that bottle like he'd been doing it all along. So that was it - weaned to bottles of formula at 10 months, no more breastfeeding.

And as relieved as I felt, I was still sad - I really enjoyed breastfeeding, when it wasn't a blood sport. I always thought I'd breastfeed for at least a year, and then see how things went. I was sad that we didn't have a "last time" - the last time I breastfed him, I didn't know it was the last, and I certainly didn't enjoy it. I'm hoping that will be different with Jake.

I'll be going back to work when Jake is just over a year, so by then, we'll have to be done with breastfeeding during the day. But if he's still into nursing in the morning and before bed, I'll be happy to keep that up for a little while. I know that I'm not comfortable with the idea of him walking up to me and lifting up my shirt himself. The other day, I was talking to Steve while nursing Jake, and he sat up, climbed over my lap, and tried to latch onto my other side while standing beside me, all on his own! Whoa! Not cool. I got him settled back down lying in my lap, and had a bit of a laugh. But I just didn't find that cozy - I felt a little pawed and manhandled. So maybe I just need to teach him better manners. :) We'll see - I don't know how much longer our nursing relationship will last, but I'm enjoying it now, and since he's going to be my last baby, I plan to keep it up as long as I am still enjoying it. We'll see. Of course, if the appearance of the new teeth change Jake into Chompy McChomperson, I reserve the right to call in reinforcements in the form of his dad with a bottle. ;)

Little Man

Owen tends to get the lion's share of updates here, I think, because simply by nature of being two-going-on-three, pretty much everything that he's doing these days is hilarious. (Case in point: we were at a birthday party on Saturday, and my girlfriend wondered aloud how she was going to cut into the cake, because there were so many details on it. Owen: You can do it! You just need a knife!) But Jake is doing all kinds of wonderful things too, and even if they are a lot quieter than Owen's things, they are no less amazing. So here's a brief update on our littlest man.

Jake is quite the talker. For "words" he says Dada, Mama, and Hi. (Hi is always accompanied by a little wave. He waves "bye" too, but doesn't say anything.) He understands EVERYTHING we say. He'll be across the room, and Owen (the little pot-stirrer!) will hold the gate open and say "Come on Jakey!" and slap-slap-slap, here comes Jake tearing across the room, through the gate, then sitting on his little bum and looking expectantly up at big brother, like Okay, what next? (Next is usually the stairs, which he climbs easily. Down is another matter entirely, but he FLIES up them.) But he babbles all the time, nonsense words, talking to his toys, his brother, all of us. He likes to sing too, and will often sing to himself in the Jeep. He answers to Jake, Jakey, Jacob, and Pickle-Mickle, which is Owen's nickname for him.

He eats anything and everything. More specifically, he eats anything and everything that Owen eats. I have to feed them at different times if Owen's eating something that Jake can't have, because otherwise Jake won't eat. Which is kind of a pain, so we try and feed them the same stuff. If Owen's having a sandwich, Jake gets a piece of whole wheat bread to nibble. Happily they both like yogurt and applesauce, and Jake is getting fairly adept at gumming all kinds of food.

Jake has got some moves! He loves to dance to any kind of music. He'll sit on his bottom and wave his arms in the air, or he'll stand (holding on with one hand) and bop up and down, usually with a big grin, maybe with some yelling/singing. And he's a copycat - all ready, he'll pick up anything that looks remotely like a stick, and use it to whack anything that looks remotely like a ball. The hockey mini-sticks are now all his. He'll even pick up Owen's bat, crawl over to his tee, and start taking whacks at it.

He's a sweetie - he has a REALLY long tongue, that he loves to stick out. In fact, if you ask him, "Let's see that tongue!" he'll stick it out for you. I've been trying to teach him to blow kisses, but either his hand-head coordination is really lacking, or he just doesn't get it yet - if I blow him a kiss, he whacks himself in the ear repeatedly. Um, nice try honey! And he does "number 1", holding up one little finger in the air if you ask him "Who's number 1, Jake?" (Owen used to do this with both hands, but Jake just does it with the right.)

He's still my little cuddle-bug, though. He's definitely mommy's little boy. He LOVES his daddy, Da-da was the first word, don't forget, and he goes NUTS whenever Steve comes home. But sometimes, only Mommy will do. And he lets you know with the "baby monkey" routine - he clings so tightly to me, that even if I weren't holding on to him, he wouldn't fall. I have bruises on the backs of my one arm now that I'm wearing t-shirts instead of long-sleeves. He grabs a handful of my clothes in each tiny fist, and holds on for dear life. He'll smile at daddy, or grandma, or whomever is coming close, but he sure won't go once he's in mommy's arms. If I put him down and he's distracted, he's perfectly happy with anyone who will play with him, and then he's fine to be picked up by them as well. But allow someone to take him from his Mommy? No dice. :)

He's my little peanut, and I can't believe he's ten months old all ready. Before you know it, that first birthday will be here. (Number 1!) Sigh. My little baby boy. Very much loved!

Clearly Speaking

Busy, busy, busy. Of course, whose life isn't these days? I did my EndurRace, with a personal best in both distances! I was hoping to do the 5K in under 30 minutes, and I did it in 30 minutes, 26 seconds, so I was quite pleased (my previous time had been about 34 minutes). My previous 8K time (two years ago, the last time I ran it) was just under 55 minutes - I was just hoping to beat that time. I blew it away, finishing in 49 minutes, 51 seconds! I'm so proud of myself!! And so, so happy to finally have completed both races that make up this event. Yay me! The best was having Steve and the boys cheering for me - nothing motivates you for those last hundred metres like hearing your little guy yelling "Go Mommy go! Go Mommy go!"

Lots of other stuff has been going on, some good, some not so good. The really sad news is that we lost Steve's Grandma last weekend. She had been ill for some time, with growing tumours in her lungs. At her age (94) there really wasn't anything they could do for her - her body wouldn't have withstood radiation or an operation, so the doctors just did the best they could to make her comfortable. We will be getting together with family to celebrate her life next weekend.

The boys are growing like crazy. Jake has two teeth, and is the fastest thing around here on all fours. He's literally crawling the knees out of his pants! And speaking of pants, Owen keeps getting taller. I bought new pants for him, but since we're nearly done with pants-wearing-weather, I bought them big enough to (hopefully!) fit him this fall. Which means we're currently rolling the cuffs, and he finds that annoying. Thank goodness most places are putting the adjustable waists into pants, because he's still a skinny minny. Also, those pants are staying completely dry during the day, and Owen is finally telling us when it's time to go on the potty, instead of the other way 'round. Life is good!

I will be trying to post more regularly, evenings have been kind of full of late, and while I've been wanting to post, my brain hasn't been able to handle it. But I do have to quickly post this conversation we had with Owen in the car yesterday before I forget it. (If I don't put these stories down somewhere, I'll never remember them!)

(Owen was playing with a pair of sunglasses.)

Owen (putting on sunglasses): Wow! These sunglasses are really queer!

Mommy: (Sharing a "did we just hear that?" glance with Steve) Pardon me?

O: These sunglasses are really, really, queer Mommy! I like them.

M: Um, where did you hear the word "queer", Owen? (Wondering how I'm even going to start a conversation about the heady semantics of that word with my two-year-old...)

O: On Sid the Science Kid.

M: What???!!! (Mentally reviewing recent Sid episodes... love that show, but pretty sure there hasn't been one about sexual orientation recently... wait, there was one about glasses... making your vision....) OHHH! The glasses are really CLEAR!

O: That's what I said, Mommy. These glasses are cwear.

Owen pronounces his L's like W's. It's something I don't even notice anymore, we're so used to it. Steve and I laughed the rest of the way home.

My Kids Are Cute!

I kept Owen home from the babysitters today. He's better, no more fever, and seems to be mostly back to himself, but you never know. (Okay, what kind of fever just comes on at bedtime? It was a horrible night, Owen was restless, Jake was restless, therefore Mommy was restless. I'm so tired. Why am I not in bed??)


We did, however, go to the grocery store. We needed milk, and a few other odds and ends. I was very pleased with Owen. Often, when a stranger starts talking to him, he'll play shy, or yell "NO!" at them. But he had a lovely conversation with the checkout girl. To wit:


Check Out Girl: And how are you today?


Owen: (smiles shyly) Good. (pause.) We ran out of SYRUP!


COG: Oh! Well, that's not good.


O: We had to buy some more at the store.


COG: What sorts of things do you like to put syrup on? (Uh oh, I'm thinking, a question. Yelling is sure to follow...)


O: French toast! It's delicious!


COG: (obviously smitten with my son at this point) How old are you?


O: Two.


COG: Is that your little brother or sister in there? (Jake was in the bucket, facing away from her).


O: My baby brother. He's Baby Jakey!


COG: Do you help take care of him?


O: Yes. I love my baby brother! (At this point, I'm wondering just how high the fever was last night, because this charming little gent is NOT the usual public facade of my son!)


COG: You have a good day now, okay?


O: Okay! Thank you! Bye!


Seriously, that is the first Owen conversation with a stranger that did not degerate into Owen just yelling "NO TALKING ME!" at them. It was a milestone, and Mommy made much of Owen and how nice he was to the nice girl, and how proud mommy was of his nice conversation all the way home. (There may also have been M&Ms involved. Nothing like a little positive re-inforcement!)


Jake is also very cute these days. He claps his hands. He waves, but in his own v-e-r-y subtle way. He holds up a hand, fingers splayed, and only waves the thumb. It took me a while to figure out that's what he was doing. Finally, I've actually been doing a small bit of sign language with Jake. One of the signs we do is for "nurse". (A presenter recommended teaching this sign instead of "milk"* when breastfeeding, so that baby doesn't get frustrated when they ask for "milk" once they are weaned and they no longer get the breast, but actual milk.)


The sign I learned for "nurse" is to brush your hand down your chest just above your breast (fingers held together, palm in towards you - picture it like brushing the milk down to your breast... um, from your shoulder, I suppose.) Anyway, Jake has started signing when he wants to nurse! Except, again, it took me a little bit to figure it out, because he doesn't brush so much as tap, and he doesn't do it to himself, he does it to me! He'll reach out and tap my chest, just where I do it when I'm signing. Clever monkey! And now even Steve knows that when he's holding Jake, and Jake starts pounding on his chest, it's time to hand him off to Mommy for something to eat. :)


* Squeezing your fist, reminscient of milking a cow. Another reason I'm not too keen on this sign for nursing! :)

Mystery Plague

Great return on me, hmmm? Well, I am just chock-full (is that hyphenated?) of excuses. Let's say that I had walking pneumonia (well, probably not, since it's clearing up without antibiotics, but how weird was it to roll over in bed and hear my lungs groan? Steve thought my stomach was always rumbling - it was my LUNGS creaking away! That's what I get for running with a cold. As of today, no more lung-grumbling, no more fatigue, lots of coughing, sounding worse and feeling better than I have in days.) So, lots of extra sleep every chance I had, not much time for writing. And then, Jake.

Hoo boy. He is the happiest sick kid ever, since well, Owen. Jake's been throwing up since Saturday night. That's right, Happy Valentine's Day, Mommy. (He made it himself. Ew.) I put him to bed, and a few hours later, heard his hungry cry. Went in to get him, and put my hand in a puddle when I went to pick him up - yuck! Poor babe - even had puke in his ear! He wasn't upset, until I turned on the light to change his pjs and sheet. (Poor Steve was sound asleep in Owen's room, I had to go in and wake him for his help.) A few hours later, same thing. And then on and off throughout the weekend. No fever, no other symptoms at all - still happy, still playing, still full of energy, just once in a while, when his tummy was full, bleah.

Jake's on solids now, but I hadn't introduced anything new this past week. He had rice cereal and peas/carrots mush for dinner on Saturday, again, nothing new, so I don't think it was food, but I haven't given him any more solids yet. He's been back to just breastfeeding, and as long as I keep the feeds small, he's fine. But when he eats a lot, he's sick. Because of no other symptoms, I didn't call the doctor's office until today. Yesterday he was only sick once, so I said that if he was through the night without getting sick, that would be it. Four o'clock in the morning, I go in to feed him, and am dozing in the rocking chair. I'm not paying attention to how much he's eating (I'm barely even aware that I'm in the room, actually) until he throws up all over me. Yuck.

Today I talked to the doctor's office. I really didn't want to take him in - he was keeping some breastmilk down, having lots of wet and dirty diapers, and really, except for the occasional episode of vomiting, was his normal, happy self. But I have that little voice that lurks in the back of every mom's head, telling me, What if it IS something? What if something turns out to be horribly wrong with the baby, and then I become that cautionary tale about the mom who's baby was throwing up for THREE DAYS and she never even thought to call the doctor....

Anyway, I'm glad I called, because I feel better. They were more than willing to see him right away today, but I decided to give him another 24 hours. Apparently there's a flu bug going around. Owen and I both had the flu shot - I am 100% positive that what I've had the past few days is NOT flu, and Owen's fine. Steve's fine too, no thanks to the flu shot, but I'm inclined to think this is what Jake has. And the doctor's assistant reminded me that the first time Owen was sick, he was perfectly happy too, except for the throwing up. (I remembered that, but it's nice that THEY remembered too!) Anyway, they're happy to see us tomorrow too if I call and need to come in, but Jake's been fine today (two runny, messy diapers, but that could be just being back on straight breastmilk again too). If he makes it through the night too, I'll feel relieved and like we're definitely over this. Cross your fingers for us!

p.s. Cautionary tale: Saturday during the day, before any sign of sickness, I was changing a diaper with a tiny poop inside. While I was changing him, Mr. Play-Doh Fun Factory decided to give a gift that kept on giving! He kept trying to poop on me, and let's say that I went through a clean diaper, a handful of wipes, and eventually just had to let the change pad catch the end of things. I told him that was the most disgusting thing he had done to me in his entire life. Less than 12 hours later the kid throws up on me. Make of that what you will.

Here I Am

I know you all were wondering where I was. (And that none of you could sleep at night, wondering what you possibly missed on the latest List of 10.) We've been very busy the last little bit. Last Thursday evening we took the boys to see Bob the Builder at Centre in the Square. (Christmas gift from Grandpa Jim and Grandma Sue). Owen LOVED it. (Jake was happy watching all the other kids.) Owen was mesmerized by the entire show, a little scared by the "trash monster", and talked NON-STOP about it for days afterwards. Still this morning, on the way to daycare, he asked me in the Jeep, "Mommy, please tell the story of Lofty's not the trash monster?"


Then Friday I took the boys to Barrie for my mom and grandma's birthdays over the weekend. We had lots of fun, visiting with Grandma and Grandpa, Great-Grandma and Grandpa, Aunt Tina and Uncle Doug, and Uncle Geoff and Auntie Tania. Owen loved having so many people to play with, and he especially loved Grandma's chocolate ice-cream cake. It was Winterfest in Barrie, so we took the boys down to the lakeshore for some fun. Owen went in the ice maze, went down the snow slide, and had his first ever pony ride. Mommy forgot the camera of course, but Grandma brought hers, so I will add pics when I receive them. (And I promise to get the software loaded for my new camera this week, so I can add the birthday dinner pics I took, and send those around.)


Speaking of photos, I finally have some to share. I finally got some professional shots done of Jake. He's adorable, and they turned our really well. Here are some sample proofs, they're from Zelia Bester Photography Studios:

Why I Am So Tired?

(Edited to say I had originally titled this post "Why Am I So Tired?" and then realized that I know why I'm tired, so changed it to "Why I Am So Tired". I forgot to remove the question mark, but I think I'm going to leave it. It's a much better indication of my current state of mind.)
For the past few nights, Jake has only been waking up to eat once. In theory, that means that I go to sleep, wake up once to feed him, and go back to sleep until Steve's alarm goes off Owen sees a Wake-Up 7. (What, you're not familiar with the Wake-Up 7? Owen has a digital clock in his room, and he knows that he has to stay in bed until he sees the Wake-Up 7. If he wakes up before then, he's supposed to "snuggle Yellow Bear and go back to sleep", which he actually does. I've been in Jake's room, and heard Owen stir, call out "Yellow Bear? Yellow Bear?" and then settle when he finds his friend in the covers. He knows that the Wake-Up 7 is the one to the left of the ":", as opposed to the Not-A-Wake-Up 7, which shows up every ten minutes. It's a good system, and has been working for us for several months now. )

I'm not staying asleep though. I wake up several times a night, not just sort-of awake, but fully was-that-the-baby-I'd-better-wake-up-more-and-listen-in-case-it-was awake. I haven't had any trouble falling back to sleep, but I'm finding my rest is way more disturbed then it was when Jake was eating 3 (or more, hello growth spurts!) times through the night. I'm waking up far more often, it seems, NOT hearing the baby, then I did when I heard him.

I am lucky. When Jake does wake up, he fusses, I feed, and he goes right back to sleep. The whole thing takes 15 minutes at the absolute maximum, and that's usually because I've started dozing in the rocking chair, and haven't even noticed he's done eating until he's fallen off. (He hasn't pooped at night since he was about 2 months old, and that's when I quit nighttime diaper changes, which made things easier too.) He's been a much better sleeper than Owen, falling asleep on his own in the crib (no endless bouncing on the yoga ball, etc. like we did with Owen) and I know I'm lucky. I have girlfriends whose babies wake up fussy, and then STAY awake. For hours. So I really have nothing to complain about.

I remember this transition when Owen was figuring out sleeping through the night. Eventually, my body will figure out that yes, we are going to regularly stay asleep for more than 3 hours at a stretch. But until then, I guess this will be my Mombie phase with Jake. Of course, compared to that, this is pretty easy. It's Mombie Lite. (Now please excuse me while I run to my dining room and bang the heck out of my table with my fist.)

We're on the move! (Nearly)

Backflips, Tick-Tock Clock, Scooting and the Crowd Dive: these are currently Jake's patented moves. At six months old, my clever little lad has all ready mastered rudimentary geometry and knows that the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. Therefore, if something interesting (or potentially interesting, read: remotely involving Owen) is going on behind him, rather than tediously turning his head in a circle, Jake will throw himself backwards to look at upside down. Awkward when he's in your arms, mildly alarming when he's in the Bumbo, and hilarious when he's sitting up on his own. We're convinced it's only a matter of time before he executes a true backflip.

Tick-Tock Clock has been happening for some time. Put Jake down on his back, with his head at 12 o'clock, and it will definitely not still be 12 o'clock when you come back. Although he's a geometry genius, he has no awareness of the 24 hour clock, so I'm unable to keep track of his rotations. But I'm sure he's zoomed right through noon/midnight a few times.

Scooting is a little more self-explanatory. Put Jake down on his front, and he'll try his hardest to get up on all fours. He'll do a little Superman - arms and legs all in the air, looks a little like he's swimming. He'll get his bum up, but without arm support (picture yoga's Downward Dog, but on his face, instead of his hands). He'll also push way, way up on his arms, grinning at all and sundry (yoga Cobra). The various combinations of these moves serve to push him backwards. Owen moved backwards right before he finally figured out how to go frontwards, so we're pretty sure that's Jake's next step too. Only time will tell if he'll pick up Owen's trick of crawling on all fours on the carpet, and two hands, one knee, and one foot (for improved traction!) on the ceramic and hardwood.

Finally, the Crowd Dive. Jake loves to sit on the couch, and Owen loves to have him sit next to him. They're quite cute. But demonstrating again that whole shortest-distance-between-two-points understanding, Jake will often see something of interest on the floor, or on the ottoman, or on the other couch, and dive for it. Like a performer diving off the stage trusts his loyal fans to catch him and bear him up, he blindly trusts that either his dad or I am close enough to grab him. (He's also tried this from our laps - you have to be quick with this kid!) Geometry he's got. Physics and the laws of gravity we're working on.

On a completely unrelated note: for anyone out there who may have left their health-friendly stainless-steel waterbottle out in their Jeep during this recent spate of cold weather, causing it to freeze solid, and popping the concave bottom out into a convex, no-longer-capable-of-holding-the-bottle-in-an-upright position, you will be relieved to know that yes, it will go back to normal if you just thaw it out, and bash on the bottom a bit with a hammer. Just in case you were wondering.