A Letter

Dear Baby C,

You are 6 months old now. You weigh 18 lbs, 6 oz and are 27 inches long. You are a happy baby, always smiling and laughing. You are so easy going, but you pay attention to everything. You will walk if we hold you up and stand you on the floor. It’s so fun to see your little feet marching forward in tiny little steps. It’s your favorite activity when you have too much energy to sit still. Your next favorite thing is to be wherever we are, watching what we are doing. Lately, you’ve taken to laughing wildly if I do something funny that surprises you. I’ve started calling you “Bug”, though I can’t say exactly why.

You had a low-grade fever starting last Saturday night. The fever finally broke late Monday, but then on Tuesday you got a rash and started having cold sweats. Nana was worried it was the powder she put on you. I was worried it was from chlorine in Aunt T’s pool. Your dad was just worried. He took you to the pediatrician and it turns out you have roseola, which is a pretty common virus for babies to get. You’ve been a trooper, and only a little fussy, which we’re not used to because you’re so even tempered.

You don’t like solid foods much yet. We’ve tried butternut squash, peas, carrots, and bananas. We’ve also put grapes, apples and peaches in your fresh food feeder. There’s something about the texture of solid food you’re not very fond of yet. So, we’re taking it slowly. You munched on a pizza crust last weekend and you liked it. You like to gnaw on celery when we go to Chili’s. Dada gave you a piece of tortilla the other day, and showed you what to do with it (you were confused), but then he had to fish out pieces that broke off in your mouth so you wouldn’t choke.

Your dada is a Mother Hen (someday you’ll know what that means), way moreso than me, and he takes care of you on the days that he’s off during the week. He bathes you, reads to you, takes you for walks and shows you the food he’s growing for you in his garden. He loves you so very much. He can’t stand the thought of being away from you if not absolutely necessary. You’re so lucky to have such a dad!

You like going to Nana and Tata’s house three days a week. They love being with you and take such good care of you. They sit with you in their flower garden and you yell with the school kids on the playground across the way. Your Nana makes you hug her whenever you come or go and you happily oblige her.

I don’t like to be away from you more than work requires. Last weekend, I was helping your Aunt T with her house and Grandma was with you in the other room and you fussed a little and it was all I could do not to drop the paint roller in my hand and run to get you. I love being your mom and want to be with you every moment I can.

I put you to sleep every night. And every night I thank my Heavenly Father for sending you to me. I love you more than I can even say!




I’m being really hard on myself today.

Somewhat about a dusty house, mounting dirty laundry, and an office that looks like a filing cabinet exploded.

But, mostly about running. Or the lack thereof.

And so I start plotting to get up earlier to get out there and do it.

Then I realize this means I’ll miss time in the early morning with my baby.

Like today, when I moved him to our bed in the early hours of the morning and fed him a bottle and listened to his breathing and watched him smile in his sleep before changing his diaper and sending him off for the day.

I remind myself this is temporary. So temporary. “It won’t always be like this.

And I breathe in. And I breathe out.

Then I get on the scale. And view the profile of my naked self in the mirror for extra measure.

And it begins all over again. So I repeat it. Like a mantra.

As I readied myself for the day, I think to myself “there will be plenty of time for fitness later.”

Even so, I asked for an elliptical for Mother’s Day. We’re saving up for it. (Minus the freakin' cell phone bill!)

In the meantime, surely 10 minutes a day doing some planks or reverse crunches or lunges is something I could pull off, no? Maybe squats while I put on my makeup?

I am certainly going to try.

Meanwhile: “Goosfraba
(What? Didn’t I ever tell you I live in the movies?)



And They All Rolled Over . . .

And one fell off. . .

The baby awoke around 1:00. I nudged M and when he said "what?" I pointed in the direction of the bassinet from under my sleep mask.

Then, suddenly, I heard a thwump and M exclaiming "oh my god!"

He had placed the sleepy baby on the bed next to me and went to pee "for two seconds".

As the baby cried, we checked him for lumps, bumps, or bruises. He calmed, settled back into a scary sleep, and we called the nurse line. While on the phone, we made an earnest attempt at waking the baby, with M checking his pupils for dilation. He looked at us, wondering why on earth he was awake at that hour, smiled and started chatting us up.

M sat on the floor, head hung low, beating himself up and said he felt like he would vomit. I assured him that it could have happened to me just as easily. It's a worst-case scenario I've imagined in my head many many times.

The nurse said "home care" should be fine, but to check him at regular intervals over the next 3 days.

The baby took a bottle and kicked around in the bed between us, finally going to sleep around 2:30.

His guardian angel was really looking out from him last night.~Nichole
"May you be in love every day for the next 20,000 days. And out of that love, remake a world." -Ray Bradbury