Ode to a Swing...

No, not more poetry. Promise. This is about one of my favorite baby products - our Graco Lovin Hug swing. We got it when he was about five weeks old and he naps so well in it. At daycare, they are lucky if he naps for an hour. Total. All day. But, in his swing with his blankie, he will nap at least two hours in the morning and an hour or two in the afternoon. I plop him in the swing when he gets drowsy and tuck in his blankie and he puts himself to sleep. So nice!

It was a real turning point in my disordered, sleep-deprived new-mamahood life when I realized I could actually count him sleeping for a long stretch of time twice a day. I felt human again.

We didn't purchase a swing before he was born. My brother and sister-in-law gave us theirs, but we managed to break it the first week we used it. Then we visited my inlaws in VA when M was just over a month old and they bought one for him to nap in. It was love at first swing for M.

Every weekend I have grand plans to start putting him in his crib for his naps, but the thought of giving up those lovely naps is a bit tough. Thank goodness the swing is safe up to 35 lbs!

M at five weeks, the first time in his swing.

This Moment

This Moment - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see. A beautiful idea from soulemama.

Eleven Months

Eleven months old today! I realized yesterday that my little boy really isn’t a baby anymore. It doesn’t make me sad, because I love every day with him and take such joy watching him grow, but it did make me pause. Before he was born I could imagine having a baby, a little lump to feed and change. I’ve dreamed about having a baby since I was hardly more than a baby. There’s a story about my mom knowing it was time to get me a doll when I was two (she didn’t want to gender me, ah the 70s) when she found me in the kitchen rocking a dishtowel like a baby. But, don’t think I really pictured what it would be like to have a little walking, almost-talking person. It’s the most wonderful thing I’ve ever done.

Three weeks ago, over the course of seven days, M took his first steps, popped his two bottom teeth and started saying “Dah-dee” whenever Jon walked into the room. It was amazing. And it’s only gotten better.

He’s now full-on walking. He can walk across the room, turn around and walk back for a hug, he can walk while holding a toy and he can squat down and get back up. How cool is that? I helped make a little person who can walk!

He’s primarily eating table food, but still likes some purees. He likes strips of foods rather than dices. He loves gnawing on a stalk of steamed celery. I noticed tonight that he likes experimenting with foods when he he’s in the Beco rather than in his high chair. A bit odd. He was willing to try blackberries and tomatoes for the first time when I fed him in the Beco, but it took a few tries before he would eat them when I gave them to him in his highchair. He’s always been good with a cup and a sippy cup, but now he’s able to figure out which end’s up on the sippy.

Sleep is still hit or miss. We were doing really well before our trip to the Cape. When we were there he did not sleep well at all. It was rough. Now we’re trying to get back on track. I’m a bit more willing to let him grumble and fuss in the middle of the night than daddy, eleven months of night feedings are wearing thin. Actually, I wouldn’t mind the waking and feeding, but he’s had a lot of trouble going back to sleep.

Playing skittles with daddy.

I love playing with my little man! He is so wonderfully curious in everything, especially electrical cords and plugs. But, he’s a lot better about those than he was a month ago. Our practice of saying “no,” gently but firmly and then distracting him seems to be working. Or, the fact that we’ve put up the baby gates and given him almost free run of the downstairs has sufficiently distracted him. I love just letting him explore. I’ll lie down on the floor and he’ll make the rounds around the room coming over to hug mama every once in a while and then going back to playing.

Everyday I am grateful to have such a sweet, loving little boy. Even at his grumpiest he will smile when I give him a cuddle. I love this boy so much. Oh little M, I am so glad I get to be your mama.

Cape Cod

We introduced M to The Cape last weekend. Jon's mother has a house and he spent much of his summers there growing up. It was loads of fun seeing Grandma and Bampa and swimming in the ocean.

Checking out the kids beach with Daddy.

We drove out on Nauset Beach and practiced walking on the sand...

...and falling on the sand...

...but mostly playing with the sand.

Sometimes the sand played back. (Playing "so big" with his shadow.)

Ten years ago this was my favorite poem...

The Talking Back of Miss Valentine Jones
by June Jordan

well I wanted to braid my hair
bathe and bedeck my
self so fine
so fully aforethought for
your pleasure
see:
I wanted to travel and read
and runaround fantastic
into war and peace:
I wanted to
surf
dive
fly
climb
conquer
and be conquered
THEN
I wanted to pickup the phone
and find you asking me
if I might possibly be alone
some night
(so I could answer cool
as the jewels I would wear
on bareskin for you
digmedaddy delectation:)
"WHEN
you comin ova?"
But I had to remember to write down
margarine on the list
and shoepolish and a can of
sliced pineapple in casea company
and a quarta skim milk cause Teresa's
gaining weight and don' nobody groove on
that much
girl
and next I hadta sort for darks and lights before
the laundry hit the water which I had
to kinda keep an eye on be-
cause if the big hose jumps the sink again that
Mrs. Thompson gointa come upstairs
and brain me with a mop don' smell too
nice even though she hang
it headfirst out the winda
and I had to check
on William like to
burn hisself to death with fever
boy so thin be
callin all day "Momma! Sing to me?"
"Ma! Am I gone die?" and me not
wake enough to sit beside him longer than
to wipeaway the sweat or change the sheets/
his shirt and feed him orange
juice before I fall out of sleep and
Sweet My Jesus ain but one can
left
and we not thru the afternoon
and now
you (temporarily) shownup with a thing
you says' a poem and you
call it
"Will The Real Miss Black America Standup?"

guilty po' mouth
about duty beauties of my
headrag
boozeup doozies about
never mind
cause love is blind

well
I can't use it

and the very next bodacious Blackman
call me queen
because my life ain shit
because (in any case) he ain been here to share it
with me
(dish for dish and do for do and
dream for dream)
I'm gone scream him out my house
be-
cause what I wanted was
to braid my hair/bathe and bedeck my
self so fully be-
cause what I wanted was
your love
not pity
be-
cause what I wanted was
your love
your love

Song for a Little House

I'm glad our house is a little house,
not too tall nor too wide:
I'm glad the hovering butterflies
feel free to come inside.

Our little house is a friendly house.
it is not shy or vain;
it gossips with the talking trees,
and makes friends with the rain.

And quick leaves cast a shimmer of green
against our whited walls,
and in the phlox, the courtious bees
are paying duty calls.

Christopher Morley

More nostalgia…this time last year...

The extreme heat this summer has made me continually grateful that I’m not pregnant this year. The thought of being a huge pregnant lady in weeks of 90 degree weather is pretty scary. A year ago last weekend was my baby shower. It was lovely, but boy was I BIG!

Hanging out on the porch with my niece post-baby shower.