Weekend update

Saturday we took Peter to a pumpkin and apple farm, thinking that it would be a good place to get some pictures of him being cute. We got a few, but he was a little sluggish so most of the pictures came out with him looking like he's being deprived of the life-sustaining sleep that keeps him going. Honestly, we aren't that awful - he did get some sleep in the car. And we let him sleep in the window at the restaurant in Cedarburg...







In case you might be wondering, no, he did not drop that pumpkin. He dropped a rather ugly looking gourd later on, but not that pumpkin.

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More Pics

Developments

Onward Peter goes, boldly developing at a rapid clip! No longer does he need stimuli to laugh, he now can spend 10 minutes laughing for no good reason! No longer must someone prop him up when he sits on their lap, he can stay upright on his own (well, most of the time, anyway…)! No longer is he a slave to what his parents watch on TV, he can now grab the remote and change the channel to Showtime (which we don’t actually get, but I don’t think he knows that)! And now it appears he understands his mother when she speaks Vietnamese to him! If only I could do that!

Yes, all this and he’s only 20 weeks old!

And now... pictures!

19 weeks old today...

It’s getting colder up here, and Peter will be experiencing his first autumn. He’s been wearing those PJs that cover everything but the head the past few days instead of the usual onsies that he’s used to. The PJs are easier to get on him since you don’t have to pull them over his head to get them on. He never really liked having outfits pulled over his head even when he got used to being dressed. If you took too long to get something past his face he’d let you know he didn’t appreciate the dawdling. But I like the PJ look, it seems more traditionally baby-ish than onsies. And I like the fact that we don’t have to put socks on him.

Since the move and his mommy’s new at-home dedication Peter has been having a pretty good time for himself. The past few nights when I got home Peter would be in his bouncer (thank you Grammy!) bouncing up and down like a superball on Red Bull, shrieking in glee all the way. I just hope he’s not too much for the poor thing and that he doesn’t break it into a million tiny pieces (did I mention he’s a strong baby?).

Last night was the first time he was given “solid” food since the crème brulee incident* several weeks ago. His doctor said he could start on rice cereal mixed with water or white grape juice, so mommy got some of the cereal and juice yesterday. He was placed in his Bumbo on the kitchen counter and was gingerly given a little spoonful. To put it mildly, he liked it. The more accurate way of putting it is to say he practically took over the feeding by himself by grabbing the spoon and cramming it in his little, gaping maw. So, no need to make airplane noises yet.

Peter’s mom called today and told me that she sees white under his gums, and that she’s feeling some sharpness on his lower jaw when he nurses. And thus Peter will start the long journey to braces, just like his mom & dad. Sorry Pete, but you’re doomed to orthodontia.

* Oh, about 4 weeks ago we went to brunch with Peter’s Grammy and Aunt Sarah. Long story short – Peter was given crème brulee, liked it, and tried to get more. Several hours later while I was watching him he passed a mighty wind that literally launched him up out of my arms a good centimeter. Coincidence???

Movin' on up

This past weekend we moved. I took off Thursday and Friday to pack and prepare for the move itself, but Peter chose that time to develop separation anxiety, so that any time I left his sight (even with his grandparents with him) he’d build up one heck of a tantrum until I came back. So if anything was going to get done those days it took his mom and me to be home, but only one of us could really work as he needed attention. All that added up to the two of us staying up almost all night before the movers came Saturday morning, packing and preparing our stuff.

Once Saturday came Peter did much better. He slept a good while and was cheerful when awake, even if he got driven around a lot. We were careful when we packed him in his cardboard box to make sure he had plenty of packing peanuts to protect him when the box got tossed onto the truck.*

He again was Mr. Charming on Sunday as his Auntie Truc, Uncle John and Grandpa Chuck helped us clean up the old flat. We were finally done at about 8:00 that night, at which time we collapsed like over-cooked asparagus.

On Monday Peter stayed home with his mom all day, as she spent her first weekday with him as a stay-at-home mom. Did I mention before that she quit her job? I don’t remember. But, if I didn’t, she quit her job. There.

In other news, Peter had a doctor visit this past Friday afternoon. The measurements put his head still in the 50th percentile and his height/length is still in the 75th percentile (now he’s 26 inches), but his weight has shot up to the 90th percentile with his 16 pounds and 14 ounces. By now he should be 17 pounds, I suppose. It may not show in the pictures of him since he’s clothed, but he is not a chubby baby. You’d think a baby in the 90th percentile of weight would be somewhat blobby, but Pete’s svelte. It must be all that muscle.

The doctor also said he’s teething, but the teeth aren’t poking out of the gums yet. He’s been drooling like he had a hose connected to him the past several weeks, though. I mean, if you hold on to him for more than 30 seconds you’d need a towel to dry off afterwards. It’s has gotten to the point where the “cold shoulder” isn’t some unfriendly treatment by another, it’s the feeling I get after I’ve held Peter up at my shoulder for a couple minutes and the drool gives me a cold, damp sensation where he had been just a minute before. All the humidity we had had the past several weeks only made it worse by slowing down any evaporation. Seriously, it’s a wonder he’s gotten as big as he is considering all the spit that’s escaped from him. I bet there’s been at least 17 pounds of drool that he’s produced. His doctor even called him “juicy.”


* That was a joke. Peter actually drove the truck.

Ok, I have a little time

A small update

One of the reasons that I haven’t been able to post much lately is that we found (a lot of) lead paint in our flat and have made arrangements to leave so Peter doesn’t get contaminated. He’s at the age where everything goes in his mouth, but he has also been surrounded by degrading paint going back to the second half of his gestation inside his mom’s belly. That, plus the fact that everything is now made by China and we’re all doomed by their lax quality control standards has put a bit of a downer on our summer.

Of course, other than that, everything’s fine. Peter will be moving off to the boonies, to live where there are no sidewalks or streetlights. He’ll be out cow-tipping before snowfall, I’m sure.

Developmentally, he’s still a big guy. We have a pediatrician visit on Friday, where I’m sure we’ll be told he’s a big, solid, hunk of baby. With Peter being our first baby it’s been hard to really gauge how well he’s developing, but we’re often told how big/strong/solid he is. Yesterday we attended a party with Peter’s cousin Elana where they got to be laid out side by side, and sure enough Peter was comparably huge. Granted, he’s six weeks older, but still he’s looking less baby-like and more toddler-esque every day. Plus, I was not aware until yesterday that it is not normal for babies that age to have to shave daily.

I should have pictures up shortly, if I get a chance…