8 months old

April 4, 2010- 8 months old

Dear Simon,

You’re eight months old. I can keep saying “I can’t believe it” but I can- every day you show more of your personality. Right now this means you’re testing me constantly- and it makes me smile. Everything you do makes me smile. Even when you poop your pants at 8:00am as I’m trying to get us out the door, then you somehow end up with it in your hair and all over my bathrobe. I still smile. You make me happy even when you’re covered in poop head to toe. I think that’s saying a lot.

You have no teeth and still haven’t said any words. You try though, oh you try. You make a wuh wuh wuh sound like you’re about to say, “What you talkin’ about mommy?” and you also laugh at us as we (your dad and I) furiously compete to get you to say Ma ma ma or Da da da. So far your favorite thing to HEAR is still Bah Bah Bah- followed by book, baby, or your personal favorite: BOO!

I can sit you in the living room surrounded by books and you will be content. You like to try and turn the pages. You also like to try and eat the books. That’s okay. Right now, anything near you is fair game to go into your mouth. This includes (and you prefer) things you shouldn’t have at all. Mostly you love my phone, my laptop, bottles of lotion, and socks. It’s not unlike having a puppy.You’ve also found the following very entertaining (for 20 minutes or more at a time): an unopened package of paper towels, my bank statement, and Kleenex. You love love LOVE ripping up paper or Kleenex. Whatever floats your boat, son.

I’ve taken you on several walks now in the Babyhawk, which I view as my only source of real “exercise” since I am hauling around a 23 pound baby in a sack. I think that’s exercise, don’t you? You squint and appear to dislike the sun in your eyes (who doesn’t) so we’re trying to keep hats on you. You don’t seem to mind so far.

We’ve taken a couple of short trips to the park, and I’ll swing with you on me in the Babyhawk and you giggle and smile and lay your head back to feel the air swish by.

You are now semi-mobile, which means you roll and roll and scoot and scoot all around. You’re sitting up on your own and only tip over when you put your head in the direction of whatever you’re wanting in the moment.

Soon we’ll have to move the swing downstairs- as you no longer fit in it and it basically slows to a stop once you’re in there for a bit.

Today is Easter Sunday, and we don’t have big plans which is nice. I had to work this Saturday so it really limited time over the weekend to visit with family. Basically, we didn’t see much family. Uncle Brett and Aunt Kristen stopped by though- to drop off Gunner for us to watch him while they went to the Final Four basketball tournaments. You really like the dog, but not tremendously so. You are mildly amused by his presence, and most enamored with his feet and tail, which you’re trying to reach and pull. Gunner licks your face (because it usually has food or spit up or drool on it) and you smile.

You spend a lot of your time yelling at us, and your Dad says that you’re just “practicing your voice” but at times I do feel slightly nervous you have something very important to say and just can’t get it out. You yell with purpose most of the time, and look at us like we’re nuts for not knowing what you’re trying to say.

You give me kisses now, and you make a sound while doing so because that’s what I do to you when I kiss your chubby cheeks, neck and chin. You come at me with that slobbery mouth and lick at my face like a golden retriever and it just melts me.

You’re starting to sign “milk” to us more- which is great because it tells me some of the signs we do make sense to you. It is also sweet because when you do it at night it means you’re ready for bed. I still rock you with a bottle before you go to sleep and you still gently play with my hair while you eat. You also found our left foot, which you like to play with and hold onto when you drink your bottle.

Your hair is growing! And it is definitely blond. It may have a reddish tint to it, but I don’t think it’s anything that will stick. Your dad calls you the Ginger baby though- and makes comments about your lily white skin. I just bought a gigantic thing of sunblock for the both of us.

I can sometimes see what you’re going to look like as a little boy- when you grin at me because you know you’re doing something you’re not supposed to- or when you just look around inquisitively at your surroundings.

I know it seems impossible but I love you more with each passing second. The time flies by when I’m just around you- in the same house, which means that we’re having fun. This life of ours’ is so awesome I often wonder if we’re going to get struck by lightning or something. I told your Dad the other night, that this is the happiest I’ve ever been in my entire life. You make each day better and more fun, just by being you. How does that feel Simon? To know that you – no matter what you do- poop and all…you make me glow with pure happiness? You’ll never know. I just burst with pride for you. You are so perfect in my eyes- and no matter what you do or what you become, you are my perfect baby boy. Thank you for coming to us. You’ve wriggled your way into the deepest parts of my heart that I didn’t know existed before.

All my love,


p.s. Happy First Easter. You have two Easter baskets so far- and today we hope to go on a picnic (my favorite!)



Here’s a picture of me and my friend Lisa D. in March 2008 at her husband’s birthday party

Obviously, drinks were had at said party.

Since then, we’ve both sobered up (quite a bit) and now I have Simon, and Lisa and Jeremy have Jack:

Jack William D. born 3/24/2010 7lbs. 12oz.

And I am ever-so glad he’s finally here. He’s the tiniest, sweetest little thing, with dark dark hair and a dark complexion. When I hold him he looks like a little African American chile. I love him so much already and can’t wait for he and Simon to become buddies.


The other day I made the grave mistake of mentioning to my brother on the phone that Simon regularly sleeps through the night. The moment that it passed my lips, I followed it with, “Great, now it won’t happen again…” and of course I was right.

Last night we had the normal bedtime routine, Simon was fast asleep in his bed at 8:10pm. At 10:20pm he woke up with his legs stuck through the slats in his crib, and was whining because he couldn’t get himself free. Once I freed him, he took this as a cue to start playing, “It’s morning, time to get up!!” I attempted to get him comfy and settled back into sleeping position. I rocked him to no avail. He wanted to play.

Mistake #2: getting the child out of bed to play for a bit and then try to get him back to sleep. This worked for a few hours, and the rest of the night was a blur of 30  minute stretches of sleepfulness followed by 15 minute stretches of wakefulness. He cried, has a low grade fever (likely teeth) and a runny nose (again, likely teeth) so his Nuk wouldn’t stay in his mouth, then he couldn’t breath because he was snotty and after all, he just wanted me to hold him all night long…not snuggly and sleepy-like, but upright and looking around-like.

So 7am came like someone punched me in the face, and I cried at the baby, “PLease, please please let me sleep” after having spent a good 4 hours on the couch in the living room with the laptop blaring Ocean Sounds (due to the loss of Sleep Sheep, RIP) and Simon in the swing of neglect, which we soon need to move to the basement, as it barely swings when his chubby 22 pound butt is planted in it.

Then in the exhausted haze of morning I drop my cup of coffee everywhere, and spend some quality time with the kitchen floor, damning the linoleum that needs replaced and the rugs that never get clean.

It was a bad morning, followed by me heading into work and I’m just not convinced that the week will get much better.

Negative Nancy, Bitter Betty, whathaveyou, that’s me today, Sunday…with only this coming Friday to look forward to. Yea. This day deserves the eff word.


“Learning to let go..” you crazy control freak.

There are voices in my head. One is usually the voice of reason, and the other is the control-freak who gets into a routine and cannot let go of it. The control freak is the one who is irked when the bed doesn’t get made, and whose day will be ruined if the coffee isn’t set and ready to brew in the morning. This control freak voice likes the way things go normally, and she’s been lucky enough to have a (so far) compatible baby who also likes routine. Most of the time it all works out. Until something breaks, or someone forgets to make the bed, or the baby’s teething, and naps aren’t as long, and oh, the control freak in me gets a little torqued.

But I usually have the rational part of me saying, “Chillax, it’s not a big deal- this is life, be flexible, be open to change…blah blah blah” and I’ve been embracing this part of my brain for a while now.

But I cannot ignore two recent occurrences that are blatant attempts by Fate to send my Control Freak voice a-reeling in my head.

This morning, Simon’s poop had corn like stuff in it.

First off, I swore I would never talk about my kid’s poop. Lesson learned, never say never. Second, don’t judge me for looking at my kid’s poop, OR for looking in the kleenex after blowing my nose. It’s normal to want to know what kind of funk a person excretes I think. Anyways.

Why is this odd you say? Simon’s eaten corn before.

Yea, Simon ate corn like…a few WEEKS ago, not recently…unless the sitter is giving him different food.

Enter in Control Freak Voice:

“Well shit, I mean I spend a good 1-3 hours a week preparing food to make the boy, so I know exactly what he’s eating. I don’t MIND if he eats 2-3 portions of pureed melon, or pears, or bananas, or whatever…it’s natural fruits and veggies, no preservatives, all homemade- so he can eat as much as he wants…”

Yesterday Simon ate bananas, cereal, carrots and sweet potatoes. Carrots and sweet potatoes do not a corn-shit make.

**Sidenote: one sitter thinks we don’t feed him enough, the other sitter thinks we feed him too much…yea this is another blog posting for another time.**

Anyways, where did the corn come from? Perhaps it wasn’t really CORN, maybe it was something else corn like…but then again:


And enter rational voice:

Calm down you idiot, it’s a control thing. Who cares if he’s eating corn or something else???

But then irrational control freak thinks: “I DO I DO! I don’t want him eating crap yet! He has a lifetime to eat crap that’s full of High Fructose Corn Syrup and grain fed cattle from mills. Right now, you have control over what he eats..that’s why you mush up the food and steam it and spend a little extra (sometimes) on organic or locally owned produce…”

Where did the corn poop come from? It has been making me crazy for a day now. And all the while I keep telling myself to chill out. He’s not going to get hurt or die from eating something else. The main reason I’m peeved is because by not investigating the food/knowing what he’s eating…I’m losing control. Letting go….

I’m already having a hard time letting go??? NO NO NO I don’t want to be that person. I want to be nurturing and encouraging and emphasize growth with the boy- I want him to be an individual and I don’t want to be a person who begs their baby to stay a baby.

But I do want to know who fed him the effing corn. Or what that was anyways…I’m not digging through his poop to find out. The control freak voice will only ponder and obsess, not suggest I dig through poop- thank god.


Sleep Sheep died. Boo. This was the second sound mechanism in poor sleep sheep. The on/off switch officially broke, so we could no longer turn him off or on. Le sigh. Now we have to decide if we want to purchase another one…which I’m leaning towards yes. Because if I don’t purchase another one, I’ll be forced to give up the plug-in Ocean Sound Machine that we purchased for OUR bedroom. Plus I think one of the sitters relies on it at naptime quite a bit (the other one never uses it…seeing a theme here?). At any rate, last night our entire house was vibrating with the sound of the ocean from OUR bedroom turned almost all the way up so Simon could hear it in his room. It was hilarious and I don’t think it really worked, since he was up at 6am and….there was no “turning on sleep sheep, giving him his Nuk and walking out of the room” he was UP UP UP. Usually Sleep Sheep helped do the trick so I could get a shower and get ready for work while he slept for another hour.

So….we may have to get a new one, we’ll see.

Alright more later.


This past weekend was a blur, and I am lucky enough to have today off because the sitter had plans today, and I have to say I’m really glad for the extra day to get errands done. Simon and I have already had breakfast and lunch, been to the grocery store and back, had a lunchtime visit from Gabe, and now I’m sitting on the couch waiting for laundry to be done while Simon naps. I had high hopes to get to storytime today but it didn’t happen- such is life when you live 30 minutes from the library where Simon’s Fan Club works- and our local library’s babytimes are on Wednesdays- Boo.

This weekend Nonni (Gabe’s mom) came to town for a Mary Kay conference and offered to watch Simon while we went out on Saturday. It was nice to get out. We went to the Banana Bean Cafe- which was just ok. It’s definitely a good place for brunch, but didn’t offer much in the way of dinner-type-options.  After dinner we went to a pub in our stomping ground of Gview, and had a few beers, and were home by 10:30. Yes, a “wild night out” for us both.

It was nice though because on Sunday we had breakfast down the street with Nonni and then Grandma Lee came (my mom) and visited with the boy. Simon loves both of his grandma’s so much. It’s sweet to see how quickly he remembers them on each visit. And of course he was spoiled with TWO early Easter baskets. (Good thing, since I had totally not thought about getting him one…whoops.)

Then Sunday night rolled around and Gabe and I watched “You’re Welcome America” on DVD and laughed a bit. It was a good ending to a good weekend. This is a short week since I work this coming weekend, so that’s nice too.

Some pictures from the wonderful weekend:

Simon and "Grandma Lee"
New Easter presents!
Yes, mom is as tired and old as she looks here.

In other news, politically, people are pissed off and elated because the US House approved healthcare “overhaul” that will cover an additional 32 MILLION people. I’m sure there are lots of reasons to be pissed off, and lots of reasons to be elated…however my first reaction to all of the hoopla is just general surprise by how passionate either side is. It is shocking to see so many people become angry enough to spit in the faces of others, and it’s appalling. If you spit on someone in grade school, I believe there would be detention or suspension. In American politics, it’s just another day where grown adults are upset about the way things work out. If someone spit in my face, I would go ape-shit. I have my own opinions on the healthcare bill, that (for now) I’ll keep to myself. I do think that people in general have lost touch with empathy and tend to get a little too tightly wound up over such things. My favorite part of the “health care overhaul” is the 10% tax increase on indoor tanning salons. I think that is hilarious.

I would be very interested in finding out how America reacted to Medicare and Medicaid when that was first introduced…I wonder if it was met with the same vehemence.