Ian - 8 months

Hello all! Behold Ian's 8 month pictures, taken by our good friend Emily. (Thanks, Aunt Emily!) We took these at Noelridge Park on 8-17, Ian's 8 month birthday.

Ian's Poo Day

Today we went to the Honda dealer to buy a new car (08 Honda Odyssey - love it!!)

While we were waiting for the financing numbers, I took Ian into the women's restroom because I smelled poo and knew he was needing a change.

They had a Koala Kare on the wall, and I pulled it down. There was a strap for strapping him in, however the strap was bolted down on both ends (???) There was no way I could strap him on there, so I was trying to hold him.

For some reason, and this was VERY out of character for him, as those of you who know him know, he started screaming bloody murder while he was on the KK. I don't know if it was just uncomfortable with the strap underneath him, or what. He was arching his back and screaming and trying to flip over. He DID flip over, several times, smearing poo all over the KK and me.

The poo had squirted up the back of his outfit, so I had to change him totally. It was ALL OVER!! I looked in the diaper bag to get out the wipes and ... there were no wipes. The day care lady had apparently used them all and didn't mention it to me. My bad for not checking the bag before I left the house! (Lesson learned!)

Luckily, I had a couple of disposable washcloths with built-in body wash, and so I was standing over the sink, holding a screaming naked baby, washing poo off of his backside. A girl walked in, and I apologized for the smell, and she said "Oh no problem!" She went in and used the facilities, Ian screaming the whole time, and then she came out, washed her hands, and left. Uh, thanks for the assist, lady. May karma bite you on the butt someday.

I finally (barely) got a diaper onto Ian, but he was freaking out after she flushed (the noise made him scream harder) so I just took him out into the dealership to get him dressed. As soon as we were out of the bathroom, he calmed right down. I have no idea what the deal was, but I was soaked with sweat, covered in poo all over my arms, and quite annoyed that there wasn't a strap available on the dang Koala Kare!

I wound up throwing away his outfit, the rag I'd had in the diaper bag, all of the hand towels I used in the bathroom, all of it. I took the trash bag out of the bathroom with me and gave it to the receptionist to throw away. Turns out, it was the same lady who'd not helped me in the bathroom. Haha, go throw away my kid's poop!

But then I had to hand Ian over to Daddy and go wash my own hands/arms, and scrub the KK because I couldn't bear to leave it all poop smeared like it was.

I dunno what was up with that kid today. Note to all possible caregivers for Ian: he does not liketh the Koala Kare!

The New Jammies, a story

Last weekend, we went to Target and bought Ian some adorable new jammies in size 9 months. Alas, gone are the days when we can just buy 3 pack for $9.99. Oh, no. Now they're $8+ each. Yay.

So tonight, after his dinner, we were cuddling in the recliner. Ian is all about the standing - it's his thing. He looooves to stand. Of course, he can't do it on his own, so he needs me to hold him up. We stand him up, and we sing the standing song while he does a little dance ("Staaaaanding .. look I'm staaaaanding yeeeeeah!")

He was being very cute (well of course, 'tis his nature!) and making his cute quacking noises that pass for laughing in his silly little brain. I asked Jon to take pictures from behind the recliner. Everything was going along swimmingly:

Then, apparently the beef and macaroni he had for lunch started to back up on him. I swear, I thought a barge was passing under the bridge outside. He got a very serious look on his face. Much concentration was had. Unfortunately, we didn't get a picture of the "I'm poopin'!" face, which was priceless. We did, however, get several pictures of the hilarity that ensued:

I'm pretty sure that by this point, I was crying, I was laughing so hard.

So off we went to change the diaper; I was hoping and praying that the jammies could be saved. Alas, 'twas not so. Avert your eyes if the sight of poo bothers you:

Yes, folks, he POOPED THE DIAPER OFF. It ran down his leg and pooled around his foot. Yes, it is (and was) quite gross. We had to take a picture. You can't appreciate the true neon yellowy-green that was the color of this poop. It should have been in a museum.

So after that, of course, here is where we ended up:

And so, after all that, he is tucked into clean jammies (unfortunately not new ones, because those were THE LAST PAIR OF NEW JAMMIES THAT WE HAD. I'm not bitter.

And that's the story of the new jammies.

Isn't it odd how 99% of my stories involve poo of some kind?

Also, on Tuesday of last week, Ian crawled for the first time. Yay? I mean, Yay!! *\o/* Right now he's doing army crawling, but it's crawling by god. He also discovered the joy that is a good stuffed animal. His current favorite is a hippo named Herbie that we bought in Vegas last year. Here he is crawling in the living room; Herbie is at the top of the pic:

And finally, here's Ian on his new scootie that we bought for him:

Unfortunately, right after I snapped the pic, he fell off and hit his head and cried. But he's ok.

Scootie is hilarious! Crawling is hilarious! Herbie is hilarious! Poo is hilarious! Everything is so hilarious! Mommy's going to go have a hilarious glass of wine now.

Ya know...

If there's one thing that I wish people had told me before I had a baby, I wish people had told me exactly how much and how often he would smack his head into stuff.

Seriously, this kid is a walking .. er, crawling .. er, scooting accident waiting to happen.

The other day, he whacked his head into the changing table while I was changing him. And then, of course, he looks up at you with this look of horror like "Oh Mommmmmmmy! Owwwwww!" and then what are you supposed to do? You can't really say "I told you not to do that!" to a 7 month old. Well, you CAN, but he'll just look at you funny.

He's had at least four bruises on his face or head in the last two months. I keep waiting for CPS to show up at my door. I swear, he's a little boy, they do that! Don't take me away!!

The most recent development is that Ian now has a tooth! Observe:

Well, you can't see it all that well. It's right there in the middle. (And yes, the bib is apropos, as well.)

Ian wants to add that he likes kiwifruit.

So today we had the Blowout of All That Is Evil and Unholy. Apparently it occurred in the carseat, and we somehow didn't get a whiff. I don't know why not - I think the part of our brains that uses rational thought has been taking a siesta for about, oh, 32 weeks. We brought him in from our shopping trip and I put him in the pack and play. After a short while, he whined to be picked up, so I brought him to me on the recliner. At that point I caught a smelly tendril of the cheesy Evil Blowout. You think I'm kidding about the "cheesy" part - it seriously smelt like swiss cheese. Sorry, but there it is.

Onward we went to the changing table, where I discovered that the Blowout of Armageddon had gone up the back of his outfit (sadly, I fear the Baby Bronto onesie is no more, moment of silence please). So we had to take a bath as well.

And to end the story... somehow, Ian managed to get the poopie about halfway up on the mesh side of the pack and play, but not the mat on the bottom that he was laying on. Explain that one to me, people.

What's up my peoples?

Whassup mah homies?!?

Yo yo! Hope you be' havin' a totally diggin' fourth of July!

I been workin' on my rappin' yo - check me out:

I gots milk in mah belly

Baby Einstein on the telly

An' my tushie be gettin' squooshy

An' it gettin' kinda smelly

Hollllaaaaaaa!

Ha ha! I'm hilar- hila- funny! Ok, so I'm workin' on it still, yo. Gimme a break, I is just a little guy! I don't have lots of stuff to rap about yet.

So Moms has been trying to feed me lots of stuff. I likes zucchinis and apricots, and I don't really likes the sweet potatos or the peaches. I'm jus' like my Daddy! Moms made me some melon and squash this week - I thinks I will like the melon but the squash sounds gross.

Last weekend I went up to see Grandpa and Nana and my cousins Amber and Sydney. Girls! I likes them. I not so sure about the kiddie pool though - that water be cold, yo! Maybe in a coupla months or somethin'

Anyways, I'm seven months old now, I is a big boy! Moms says I'll be crawling any day now - I's not sure what that means but it sounds like fun. Moms says that Daddy has to "babyproof" the house, whatever that is.

Here's some super cute pictures of my favorite person - ME! Blow up mah cellie and holla!

Oy vey

So the only thing preventing me from begging someone to come and help us is the fact that, knowing our child, he'll be a perfect angel the instant someone who is not his parent walks through the door. And then that someone will believe us to be certifiably insane for ever thinking that such a delightful child could ever conceivably do anything even remotely inconvenient to another living soul.

Since Thursday, I've been deathly sick. Comin' out both ends (if you know what I mean and I think you do). Thursday afternoon, Jon hauled my barfin' persona to the doctor, and she promptly diagnosed me with the stomach flu, told me to take drugs that I already had in the medicine cabinet, and go back by Monday if I wasn't feeling better. Huge help, she is.

Yesterday was better - no irregular emissions, anyway - but today has just stunk to high heaven. Jon pulled his back muscle yesterday doing some stupid grunt work for his boss, and so he's been walking around all hunched over, moaning and groaning. I'd almost rather have what he's got than what I've got. Very grumbly in the tumbly, I is.

So we got Ian to take a nice long nap this afternoon, and we were wondering if he'd be sleepy at his regular bedtime of 8 pm. Silly mommy and daddy! Whether he is sleepy or not is the least of our worries, I'm afraid. Around 8, I was feeding him his last bottle, and he downed about 5 oz. Suddenly he started hurking and spewed the 5 oz back up all over me. Joyous.

Off we went to bathe the baby, who is apparently learning how to kick - I think he's going to be a Rockette when he grows up. Seriously, the more active this baby gets, the more we realize just how old we really are.

Now it's 8:35 and Daddy is consoling the baby, who's bathed and dressed in a fresh outfit, while Mommy makes him some more food, in between bouts of running to the bathroom herself.

'Tis a glorious day, for sure.

Crazy Picture

This is our office building. That's the entrance door. Holy Cabooses!!