A New Year and an End to the Baby Project

I didn't mean to go a month without blogging.  But, it happened.  Winter break was upon us at my last posting, and we left for a two week trip to Iowa, Chicago, and then back to Cincinnati to stay in a hotel for another six days until the lead abatement on our house was complete.  Long, crappy story (the lead thing).

Then I had to go back to work, Weston got sick, the terrible twos set in FOR REAL, and he decided that he seriously wasn't sleeping in his crib anymore.  He didn't sleep and neither did anyone else in this house.  I got tired of breastfeeding about a week ago, so we're also weaning.

...And here we are over halfway through January...

For no good reason, I'm officially ending this blog as of tonight.  There is still a very serious baby project going on, but he's now a "big boy" who will be two years old in three months.  Huh?  And on our date this afternoon, Nate and I kind of agreed that we're not quite ready to make it a babies project any time soon.  Sorry, Grandmas.

Congratulations, you've reached the end.  I'm not sure what my next writing endeavor will bring, but in the meantime, you can catch me on facebook.

"If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, on where you stop your story."
-Orson Wells

Who Wants to Grow Up?

As a mom who will one day send her son to school, and as a current teacher who works with children from preschool all the way to senior in high school, it's incomprehensible as to why someone would go after children.  Especially the littlest ones--the Kindergartners.  It's not right, it's not fair, it's not humane.  And yet, "school shootings" is a term that this country is painfully familiar with, and because it has a name, it means that it's been done before.  Many times.  

Saw this today, and wondered how true it is...

Turns out that PolitiFact breaks down the international data several ways:

"...[the claim that] the "USA is #1 in gun violence" [is] only true if you compare the U.S. with other affluent nations on a per capita basis.

But widening the comparison to all nations, not just the richest ones, there are at least 17 other countries with higher per capita rates of gun homicides, most of them with rates astronomically higher than the U.S. rate.

And measured by raw gun homicides, the U.S. doesn’t rank first -- at least two and possibly as many as five countries have had more gun homicides in recent years than the U.S. did. "

That's embarrassing.  Among the industrialized elite in the world, we are exhibiting behavior as a society full of impoverished citizens, living well below an acceptable standard of living.  We've got what it takes as a nation to act mature and create some serious boundaries regarding gun control, and yet we repeatedly continue to act like a spoiled brat.

This opinion article from the NY Times hit it right where it hurts:

I came to realize that, in essence, this is the way we in America want things to be. We want our freedom, and we want our firearms, and if we have to endure the occasional school shooting, so be it. 

Somebody made a comment on Facebook (can't find it--sorry) about getting adequate health care coverage for everyone in this country so that their mental health issues can be addressed.  That sounds like a great start, but of course, this coming week will be charged with all sorts of crazed political rhetoric about the 2nd amendment and blah, blah, blah, and then it will slowly fade away into the background just like the shootings at Columbine, Virginia Tech, Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords, the wacko who did the Batman shooting over the summer, etc.

That is, until the next mass shooting takes place.  And you better believe that there will be another one.

And the sad thing is, as a mother, as a teacher, I don't know what to do about it.  Like the writer from the Times article stated, if we have to deal with the occasional massacre of innocent school children because we refuse to change our gun laws that result in uncivilized repetitive behavior, then OH WELL.  Too bad, so sad.  Just hope that it doesn't happen in your community, in your school, or God forbid, to your own family.

Grow up, America.  Grow the fuck up.

Thankful for Player Pianos and Fisher-Price

Thanksgiving was rather unusual this year.  We didn't spend it with blood relatives; instead we drove about 3 hours to spend it with friends near Fort Wayne, Indiana.  The highlight of the trip for Weston was a tie between getting to play with the classic Fisher-Price Little People garage...

This sells for $92 on eBay!

and dancing to the player piano...


Dancing to Rudolph from Robyn Weaver on Vimeo.

I play the piano, but Weston would not tolerate me playing during our trip.  He'd be in the other room playing, and I'd sit down to play a song.  He'd come running in, going, "Un-uh, un-uh, un-uh" and pulling my hands off the keys.  He sometimes does the same thing when I sing.  He doesn't mind when others sing, but I always get the ax, unless it's "Old MacDonald Had a Farm" and he's in the mood to hear it.  I find this fascinating (as well as a little ego-bruising).

Being Elmo

Last night, Weston was all ready for bed.  I laid him down in his crib, and quietly realized that Elmo wasn't in his crib with him.  Curious George was (his other favorite), but Elmo was still downstairs.  I said nothing, hoping that he wouldn't notice.  He plopped on his belly, stuck his butt up in the air and I draped his blanket on top.  I said goodnight, but suddenly, Weston sat up looked around and said, "Elmo?  Elmo?"  After retrieving it, I gave it to Weston and he gave him an adorable hug and laid down right on top of him.

I've been thinking quite a bit lately about Kevin Clash, the voice of the beloved Elmo, and his recent allegations of having had underage sex with teenage boys.  Normally, I would just mentally file it away under "News that's a bummer" and carry on.

However, Weston totally loves Elmo, and has for quite sometime.  It's not something that either Nate or I have ever encouraged; he, like millions of other little kids, almost innately LOVES the furry red creature.  A couple of months ago, Nate and I watched the documentary called Being Elmo: A Puppeteer's Journey, which is about Clash's life and the history of Elmo's existence.  Admittedly, I cried during several parts (especially the part where children from Make A Wish Foundation ask to see Elmo), but I was most touched when I realized that probably what my son most loves about Elmo is..well, love.

“I knew Elmo should represent love. Kissing and hugging.” —Kevin Clash, in Being Elmo.  

Whoopi Goldberg captures the essence of Elmo the best in the film: “The thing that people love about Elmo is, he needs them. There’s a feeling that they can do anything as long as they have their Elmo with them. I attribute this to Kevin because of his embodiment of this character.”

I've read a couple of articles and posts about parents making different decisions about their handling of Elmo.  This one took their Elmo doll out of the diaper bag.  She didn't seem to be sure why she did it, but admitted it was probably ridiculous.  I agree that it was ridiculous.  As sad as it is, there are way too many child abuse stories, many of them involving famous people and institutions--the Catholic church, Jerry Sandusky and Penn State, Warren Jeffs and the Fundalmental Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.  But I don't cover my ears or Weston's at the mention of any of these places because of their connections with child abuse.

James Poniewozik from Time wrote this:

"As a parent, I get that the connection between a small child and the voice and image of a beloved character is intimate. (Conversely, I know from experience there are many, many reasons to avoid the loud, baby-talking furball that have nothing to do with anyone’s sex life.) But the operative word here is character. Small kids have a relationship with Elmo, not his unseen puppeteer. And parents, as grown-ups, should be able to distinguish between actor and character, reality and fiction, just as we do all the time with movie actors. The idea that parents would deprive their kids of a character because it now makes them feel icky—anymore than they would boycott Alice in Wonderland because of past allegations about Lewis Carroll, say—boggles my mind. (Likewise the idea that an Elmo toy or video suddenly becomes more or less wholesome depending on the employment status of the person moving his mouth.)"

He points out that parents who want to forget Elmo because it makes them feel uncomfortable are doing their children a disservice.  I'm of the same mindset.  Elmo will stay in our house.

However, he also makes the argument that kids have a relationship with Elmo, not his unseen puppeteer.  I don't know that I agree with that statement.  Elmo was a character on Sesame Street before Clash's time, and it was Clash who turned him into the character that kids love today.  I could be wrong, but Clash seemed to bring something to Elmo's character that was unique and inimitable.

Time will tell the fate of Elmo.  In the meantime, we'll continue to cycle through the same 4 or 5 episodes of Elmo's world on the youtubes.com, and Elmo will continue to be Weston's reading buddy, snuggle buddy, and source of comfort.

Happy 18 Months!

Weight: 25 lbs. 15.5 oz (let's just say 26 lbs.)...72nd percentile
Height: 35.25 inches (just shy of 3 feet??)...above 97th percentile
Head: 19 in...89th percentile

This child has had a major growth spurt in the past three months!  He's still in size three diapers and will be for a little while longer because he's so lean, even though the suggested weight limit on the diaper box for size three is 27 pounds.

His favorite thing to do is still "cooking," whether it's pretend or helping out.  It's become a regular thing to make pancakes together on the weekends, and he loves dumping in the ingredients and mixing.

Cooking packets of tea

He graduated to a toddler forward-facing car seat last week.  We had a Chicco 30 pound car seat that we've used since the beginning, but Weston's way too tall for it now.  I know, the new recommendations are to keep them rear-facing until they're at least two, but this is what we could swing right now.  I think he enjoys the new view in the car.

He melts my heart on a daily basis, but the other night was a good one.  When he's ready to go upstairs for his bath, I always tell him, "Say 'Goodnight, Dada.' " as we head up.  He usually responds and says it, along with a super cute wave.  I also tell him to say the same thing to me when I put him down in the crib.  Well, last night as I was putting him in the crib, he said all on his own in an adorable sleepy voice, "A-night, Mama."  

Sigh.  Makes a mom forget about all the food thrown on the floor, the endless mess of toys downstairs, the crying, the early morning wake ups, etc.

He's also repeated some not-so-desirable phrases, which is always really funny, and I know I'm not supposed to laugh.  But, there's something so cute about hearing a toddler try to say, "Oh, shit!"

We've also got continued good news on the lead poisoning front.  His latest lab work shows a 6.8 μg/dL, which is nearly a 10 point drop from when he first was diagnosed back in May.  We have the lead abatement work currently being done on the outside of the house, and once they're finished with that, they'll begin their work indoors.  Thanks to a grant through the city of Cincinnati, we're able to get the work done so that we're not in some horrible financial situation.


I had to take down the sign on the front door on Halloween so that we'd get some trick-or-treaters, and I've not put it back up:

One of three bright yellow signs on our property...

Yay for Z-Packs!

It's been a week.  And it's only Wednesday.  I've spent a lot of time on Web MD and have learned quite a bit of new vocabulary.

His incisors are coming in.  Slowly.  Painfully.  Drool everywhere.  Finger chewing.  Raunchy poop.  Snot pouring out of his nose.

Then he tripped on Sunday night coming out of the tent that Nate set up in the front room (see picture below), creating some amazing imprints of his two bottom front teeth into the inside of his lower lip.  The impact also tore his frenulum from his upper lip, leaving a shockingly large and difficult-to-clot wound inside his mouth.  I was wearing white that night.  Oh, the blood...  But some cuddle time and an ice cube while watching Elmo's world helped all that (God Bless youtube).

Then, on Tuesday night, I noticed that he would cough a couple of times, followed immediately by a high-pitched inhale.  It kept him up and every couple of minutes he would have a coughing spell.  Nothing too crazy, but enough that I started to wonder about whooping cough.  The next day, I was on the phone with my genius sister, asking her about whooping cough, and she could hear his sharp inhale.  She suggested taking him into the doctor.  After a crappy night of sleep for everyone in the house, I took him in this morning.

Guess what?  Weston's got a mild case of pertussis.  He's been vaccinated, but turns out that there is a chance that people can still get it even though they've been vaccinated.  It's called an attenuated illness.  It happens with chickenpox and other such diseases that we have vaccinations for.  The doctor prescribed him azithromycin, a pretty heavy duty antibiotic.

We were supposed to go to Chicago this weekend for my cousin's wedding, but because he cannot be around other people for the next five days, especially other children, we had to cancel.  I'm super bummed.

I will say that the medication seems to be working really well because Weston was all smiles this evening and actually let me put his Halloween costume on.  He wanted nothing to do with this thing for the past two weeks.  So we quickly went to two neighbor's houses and went trick-or-treating for about five minutes.  It was totally adorable and made my night after such a crazy week.

Thanks to Joyce for another amazing hand-me-down!!

My little lion

Totally geeked about his costume!

A bucket for candy (thanks, Aunt Terry!)

Neighbor Steve offering some treats

Excited about the Fire Fairy inside Ann's pumpkin

First Reece's peanut butter cup--loved it!

My Wish List

I grew up with pets.  We always had a dog around the house, and consequently, they were never the skinniest of animals.  There were always scraps of food that they either woofed up off of the floor, or--if we were trying to be more civilized--ended up in their food dish.

Currently, we don't have any pets due to a number of reasons, but there are times when I really wish we had a dog.  Weston loves dogs (it was one of his first words), and as the cold weather sets in, there's nothing better than a living heating blanket on the bed to keep my feet warm.  But, there are many reasons why we don't have a dog--cost, nails on wooden floors, dried puddles of drool, and piles of hair (in addition to piles of toys, food, and whatever else).

However, when I come home from running errands, and walk into the kitchen (all under Nate's watch) and find this, I really want to rent a dog for one minute, three times a day.  Wait.  Make that four because snack time can be just as messy.

Unwanted quesadilla chunks and no dog

A Moment

These are some of the better moments from the past month or so.  There have been some horrible ones (like the one night where he was up every two hours with an inconsolable ear infection), but these are the ones I'd like to remember.

 First attempt on the balance beam:

Concentration and determination are adorable

 I'm exhausted after a crappy night's sleep for everyone due to a cold, but he's dreaming away:

Nothing more lovely than a sleeping babe

 At his friend Seneca's house on Friday night, checking out the new toys, and especially protective of the xylophone:

"Mom, seriously?  We're playing here.  Please."

 At Washington Park, exploring new territory:

Easy does it

One of our friends came over the other day while Weston was eating breakfast and was able to capture this moment of a really, really good time:

Who knew breakfast could be so exciting?

The Letter V

I'd like to think I'd have a lot more time on my hands if I weren't so neurotic sometimes.

Let me share what goes on inside my head for a moment...  Weston has an alphabet train that has 26 2-inch individual blocks that snap in and out of the train.  Every few weeks since he's gotten it for Christmas last year, I've taken to counting all the blocks just to make sure that they're all there.  On occasion, I've counted the blocks and come up with 25, but I've always been able to find #26, hidden in some compartment that Weston forgot about.  I do this same thing with his puzzles--always putting the pieces back together.  He has four sets of flashcards that I have yet to let co-mingle.  I always sort them out (they're grouped by theme) and put them back in their proper boxes.

Dumb, I know.  I think I do it because I'd like to be able to pass along all the amazing intact toys that we were so graciously given by friends and family to some parents-to-be down the road.  I hope that they will be intact.  No kid likes puzzles with pieces missing.

Turns out that a couple of weeks ago was the first time I counted 25 and haven't been able to find the letter V.  I'm obsessed!  I've looked in drawers, closets, all the usual places, and I've come up empty.  I was irritated.  Outsmarted by a toddler.

I often wonder where stuff like that goes--unmatched socks, a lone glove, one earring, a toddler's shoe, the AWOL cell phone charger, etc.  And yet, I've seen those things of other people on bike paths, in school lost-and-founds, public restroom counter tops, in my neighborhood, and I somehow can't fathom how in the world it got there.  Just a couple of months ago, Nate and I returned home from a meandering walk in our neighborhood on one of those nasty hot days (which I would enjoy right now as I sit here in a sweater and pajama pants), and realized that Weston was sporting only one sandal.

Crap.  We both looked at each other, hoping the other one would utter what we each wanted to say, which was, "Forget it.  Summer's almost over and he's got plenty of other shoes that will fit."

Instead, I said, "Do you want to go look for it, or should I?"  He cocked his head, silently asking Did you really just give me an out? and said, "I'll stay back with Weston."  So, out I went, retracing our steps in blazing heat.  Enjoying the second round of the walk, I kept my eyes toward the ground.  About halfway through, there it was.  The toddler's sandal.  Rescued from hours, days, or even weeks of strangers walking by and wondering, "What the hell is that shoe doing here?"

Right now, that letter V block could have been subjected to such humiliation (Who knows?  Did Weston smuggle it on a trip to Kroger, only to have it fall out of his hand on the way into the store?).  Or perhaps it's tucked away in some little corner of the house, patiently awaiting to be discovered when the kids are out of the house, and we're packing up to retire to something smaller.  At which point, I'll probably shed a tear or two, fondly remembering how cute it was when I would find Weston's toys in the funniest places.

Where did you hide the letter V??!??

Cleaning vs. Napping

Weston's been asleep for nearly three-and-a-half hours.  And I'm kicking myself right now for not napping myself.  Instead, I chose to clean the house while he napped.  Nate and I did the second floor yesterday, and today was the first floor--dusting, vacuuming, and washing acres and acres of wood floors.  I always have this debate as soon as he goes down for a nap--should I hop in bed, too, and get some much-needed sleep?  Or should I be my very own cleaning lady (because she isn't showing up on my doorstep any time soon)?

I'll be honest; we vacuum the kitchen about 3-4 times a week and the rest of the first floor maybe gets it twice a week.  But washing the floors??  I'm lucky if that happens more than once a month.  Everyday, I just take mental notes; "There's a smashed pea.  That oatmeal is going to cement itself to the floor.  That looks like yogurt."  I feel like Dudley from The Royal Tenenbaums.  "That cab has a dent in it.  Another dent here, and another dent here."











When I put him down this afternoon, I couldn't put off washing the floors any longer.  We finished about an hour ago, and he's still sleeping.  Nate even had time to create this for Weston to destroy as soon as he comes downstairs:

Clean floors waiting to be dirtied...

I've had time to catch up on some work email, write another blog post, and think about how I wish I were sleeping.  I've been running on very little sleep these past few weeks as we still try to figure out what time works for bedtime with his schedule at child care.  He's been waking up between 4:45 and 5:30 am this past week, and it's been pretty brutal.  Last week, I tried putting him to bed earlier, thinking that maybe he was overtired, and last night I started to try staying up later.  That seems to be working because he woke up at 6:10 this morning.  Quite a relief.  Oh yeah, and he's had a cold these past few days.  Did I mention that he's been biting, too?  Bit two kids at day care, and I've lost count of how many times I've been bitten (but I can still see some red marks).  Needless to say, it's been a rough week.

I suppose that lamenting about lost sleep is ridiculous.  Sure, a three-hour nap this afternoon would have been absolutely amazing.  But, the house is clean.  And there's always next weekend to nap, because I can assure you that I won't be washing any floors.

A little bit of shotgun bed head

Looking for a tortilla to make a "dee-ya"

Link up: 

Visitors From the Sunshine State

 Yay!  Mark and O'Dota have arrived!!  They blew in from Florida yesterday afternoon and now Weston can check off "grandpa" and "great grandma" off his relatives-to-meet list.  So exciting!

Weston woke his great grandma up this morning with a little rendition of "The Itsy Bitsy Spider."  Totally adorable.  As soon as I can get the video uploaded, I'll post it.

Wake up, wake up!

Enjoying some waffles with Grandpa Mark Mark

Three generations of crazy hair and great laughs

Throwdown with Weston

If I ever invest in another refrigerator, I will absolutely not go without a lock on the water dispenser. Much to my dismay and that of our wooden floors, our fridge doesn't have one, and that little fountain of eternal joy is no longer out of reach for Weston.  His arms and legs have grown just enough recently to take baby-proofing the house to the next level.  There are tables that were once okay to put things on, but we're quickly running out of space to put coffee mugs, the iPad, pens, and the computer mouse.

After I picked Weston up from day care this afternoon, he did his usual routine of pulling all the pots and pans out of the cabinet to play Cooking.  His latest ingredient is water.  From the fridge.  In a sippy cup.  Tippy toes. Make contact with the lever.  Spray water everywhere.  Get some into the cup.  Walk over to the pots.  Dump it into the pot.  Return to fridge.  Tippy toes.  Ad infinitum...

I decided that I didn't want to deal with that today, so I set up an outdoor kitchen for Cooking, complete with a continuous supply of water, and this is what he did for the next thirty minutes:

Don't you love how he tastes his food??  I love watching him do grown up things!  I actually love watching how he imitates Nate.  My hubby does most of the cooking, and we actively let Weston participate in the kitchen as much as we can.

After I was done shooting this video, we had to go inside and eat "real" dinner.

He screamed when I took him away from his kitchen...

And So It Begins

This past week has been traumatic for me.  Weston started going to child care on Monday, which is stressful enough as it is, but almost immediately following his first day there, he's developed MAJOR sleeping issues at night.  Major as in: crying for about 45 minutes before falling asleep (before he would just lay his head down on the pillow and go to sleep); waking up multiple times throughout the night crying hysterically; Friday he woke up at 2am and would not go back to sleep until 5am (and Friday was picture day at work for me and I looked like a crazy woman); and then for his most recent act of craziness...

HE CLIMBED OUT (or tumbled out) OF HIS CRIB LAST NIGHT.

He will be 16 months old in about 4 days.

Yes, his mattress is as low as it will go.

No, there isn't anything in the crib that he could get a leg up on.

Here's how it happened...He woke up sometime again around 2am last night, (after waking up at midnight) and I went in after letting him cry for about 10 minutes.  He clamored to be picked up, but I laid down on the floor and told him that it was time to sleep.  That didn't work as well as I was hoping, but he did calm down a bit.  As I got up to leave the room, he got really upset, but I left anyway, and walked back to our room to the sounds of him screaming.  I laid down on our bed, and no sooner than I started to tell Nate what went on above the intensifying screams of Weston, did I hear his little hands jiggling the door knob to his room.  Oh my God, he got out of the crib!  Leaping up out of bed, I went flying down the hallway, opened the door, and scooped him up.  He immediately stopped crying and showed no signs of any injury.

I have no idea how he got out--did he fall or did he climb down?  I didn't hear any thump.

Crib tents have been recalled, so perhaps it's time to switch to a toddler bed.  But he's so young!  I don't know how a bed is going to make this situation any easier.  At least if he wants to get out, the mattress is 10 inches from the floor instead of four feet.

Thankfully, I am married to a fine designer who happens to work for a company called BaserMatter.  Nate spent this afternoon designing a toddler bed for Weston (complete with his name laser cut on it!) and is now at the studio cutting it out on the CNC mill.  Hopefully, Weston will have a custom-made toddler bed to sleep in by tonight.

I'm not entirely sure what to do here.  I think perhaps pushing his bedtime earlier will help him sleep more soundly through the night.  He currently goes to bed between 6:30 and 7, but with all the changes that are going on, I think he's getting really tired.  He's napping while at child care, but I don't think it's been long enough.

Anyone else have experience with kids climbing out of their cribs or changes in sleep patterns after starting child care?

As promised...BaserMatter delivers before bedtime!!

The Night Before Haircut Number Three

Why are these so fun to take?  He's got irresistible hair.

Hope it's not exactly like his father's...

Syndrome is celebrating Alyce's 68th birthday in style!

Everyone always tells Nate, "You look like that guy from The Incredibles."

Thanks to Jeff for this spontaneous photo shoot!

Happy 15 Months!

Height: 33 in (90th percentile)
Weight: 23 lb. 9 oz (35th percentile)
Head circumference: 47 cm (40th percentile)

All of a sudden, time is going by really quickly as I watch Weston grow up.  After his appointment this morning, I had to schedule his next check-up, and I said, "I need to make an appointment for his 15-month physical."  The receptionist said, "You mean 18-month?"  I replied, "No, 15-month--oh wait, yeah, 18-month..."

Eighteen months sounds...old.  That's halfway from one to two.  I'm not ready for that.

He's already running through the house, and imitates just about everything I do, including talking on the phone.  It's hilarious.  His favorite thing to do is play cooking, and that's when the pots and pans come out of the cabinets.  I put them away about three times a day.  I've contemplated getting him a kid kitchen set, but what's the point?  He loves cooking with the real stuff, so we'll go with it.

One year ago in his bouncy chair...

 Here are some shots from our vacation last week up in Northern Michigan:

It took him awhile to get used to the lake

My little man

After a fun afternoon on Lake Huron

Enjoying the Outdoors with a Toddler

Those of you that know me, know that I am an avid outdoors-woman.  Camping, mountain biking adventures through the Rockies, hiking, water-skiing, etc.

But something happened in May 2011.  I had a little burrito.  And my life (and my lifestyle) instantly changed.

My experience has been this: Years ago, I thought, "I will not give in to the demands of a child and put my outdoor lifestyle on hold."  That has not turned out to be true.  Weston and I went camping last month out in Utah with my sister, and yes, it was challenging.  First of all, he did not want to fall asleep, and when he finally did, he did not sleep soundly nor long enough.  It wasn't a disaster, but it was a good reminder that neither he nor I were accustomed to sleeping in a tent with each other.

I imagine that had Nate and I taken Weston camping frequently throughout the past 15 months, then perhaps it would have been a little easier.  I have read that people say it's not that bad camping with a baby, as long as they're not crawling or walking yet.  Then after about age 3 or so, it gets easier to camp as they're able to understand adult directions and consequences.  So it seems that there's a window of a couple of years where it's fairly difficult to camp with a child.

We're currently in that window.  Weston wanted absolutely nothing to do with lying down for bedtime while in the tent.  It was much more exciting to run around and push on the sides of the tent and bounce back onto the squishy sleeping bags and air mattress.  I tried doing all the normal bedtime routines, like reading a story to calm down a bit.  Forget it--the zippers on the tent are A.MAZ.ING!

A couple of weeks ago, we took a little family vacation to the Red River Gorge in Kentucky to meet up with my dear friend from college and her hubby.  They were going to camp and wanted to know if we wanted to share their site with them.  I instantly flashed back to how sleep deprived I was on Friday morning after our camping experience in Utah.  I checked the weather--in the low 90s with 80-90% humidity.  How would he nap in that?

I googled "camping with toddler" and read a comment from someone about how our ancestors lived in the wilderness and so there should be no reason as to why we can't take our children camping.  I'm all for that, buddy, but our ancestors also didn't have tents set up in the blazing sunshine, and they had innovative ways to deal with the elements that may or may not be available to us (like sleeping under a rock overhang to keep cool at night).

So, I made the decision to rent a tiny cabin for two nights that had A/C and a bathroom.  It was still crazy trying to figure out how Weston was going to sleep in a one room place...we ended up setting up the pack and play in the bathroom, but realized that we couldn't close the door, so Nate took the shower curtain off the shower and hung it in the doorway to block out sound and light.  It worked quite well.  And I slept well both nights!

Weston's helping Kenton pack the Ninja cooler for our hike

Where'd it go?

Leah and I taking a break from carrying our children...

At Creation Falls

I Didn't Think Weaning Would Be So Hard...

Let me get something out in the open.  Weston is almost 15 months old, and we're still breastfeeding.  As he gets older, it gets more and more difficult to say that because I am very aware of how people I know (and society in general) think about breastfeeding past a year old, like it's some sort of freakish thing that crazy moms do.  Insert Time magazine cover here:

In fact, it's something that many moms do because they desire it and so do their toddlers.  The American Academy of Pediatrics is now on record as encouraging mothers to nurse at least one year and as long after as both mother and baby desire.  The World Health Organization recommends breast feeding for the first two years.


Despite all the claims that people make about it having no nutritional value past the first year, breast milk does indeed have lots of wonderful components (source: kellymom.com):
In the second year (12-23 months), 448 mL (almost 2 cups) of breastmilk provides:

• 29% of energy requirements
• 43% of protein requirements
• 36% of calcium requirements
• 75% of vitamin A requirements
• 76% of folate requirements
• 94% of vitamin B12 requirements
• 60% of vitamin C requirements

In addition, the health value is significant:
“Antibodies are abundant in human milk throughout lactation” (Nutrition During Lactation1991; p. 134). In fact, some of the immune factors in breastmilk increase in concentration during the second year and also during the weaning process. (Lawrence & Lawrence 2011, Goldman 1983, Goldman & Goldblum 1983, Institute of Medicine 1991).


As a first time mom, I don't understand the negativity with breast feeding past the first year.  Last year, I had co-workers (females with no children) say, "Why are you still breastfeeding?  I guess it's okay, but as long as you stop when he starts asking for it."


A newborn baby asks to be fed... right?  What's the difference if my toddler now can use something more than crying to ask for something he wants?  Oh, and thank you very much for your uninvited opinion on how to feed my child.


Anyway, I'm going back to work in a few weeks, and I've reluctantly started the weaning process.  I know that I don't want to pump anymore, so I thought that going to two feedings (morning and evening) would be manageable.  Manageable?  Sure.  But getting there?  Not so much...  Let me tell you, it's been rough.  Emotionally.  Like depressing and unexplained sadness.  In fact, it reminds me a lot of the baby blues.  Quick google search revealed that yes!  This is normal!


"One of the changes that occurs with weaning is a drop in prolactin levels. Prolactin, the hormone that stimulates milk production, also brings with it a feeling of well-being, calmness and relaxation."


Oh, how I am feeling that prolactin and oxytocin drop!  The only time of day when I consistently feel that All is Right with the World is when I am nursing.  Weston digs it, too.  Three days ago, I dropped the feeding before first nap.  He wasn't happy about it and let me know in the form of crying and pulling at my shirt.  I've stuck to it though, and he's adjusting.  I know when we drop the before-second-nap feeding, I'll more than likely go through another bout of sadness.  And so will he.


I knew this when I got pregnant: I wanted to breastfeed.  I was going to try and make it to a year, and that goal changed to "six months is good enough" when things got rough.  We made it to six months, and I thought, "Not so bad...A year isn't that far off."  As this past May approached, I decided that I had pumped for nine friggin' months, so I was going to enjoy a summer sans pumping and complete on-demand breastfeeding--just me and my little nursling.  And now, I have this very strong feeling that I will stop breastfeeding when he and I are both ready.  I read that as when we are both ready, he is ready, or I am ready. Not when others think I'm ready.

Sick.

By some grace card that we've been dealt, Weston has been one healthy little dude for the past 14 months.  He's had a slight cold here and there, but nothing serious, other than the lead poisoning we've experienced (which, by the way, has gone down significantly to 10.6 μg/dL, so we're doing well).


All is good, until Wednesday.  I was on the phone with a friend around 4 pm, and he got super fussy and crabby all of a sudden.  I picked him up to quiet him down, and noticed that he was really hot.  I took his temperature and it read 102.3.  Yikes.  I gave him some Tylenol to bring the fever down, and it helped a bit, but he was very clingy, irritable, not really eating, and just wanted to be held.  More teeth??  Those one-year molars are a doozie...  He did okay that night with some more Tylenol, but woke up early Thursday and still had a really high fever.  That whole day, he kept putting his head down on my shoulder and was not like himself.  Oh, the whining!  He took two really good naps, but was still burning up every time the Tylenol or Ibuprofen wore off.  There were no other symptoms, and now I was beginning to suspect roseola after reading up on it.  I also remember reading a blog post from a friend whose daughter experienced the same thing as Weston.

I figured this whole illness would pass soon, and he'd be on the mend by Friday...

Not so much.  We actually ended up bringing him to the doctor on Friday afternoon because his behavior was so unusual--playing fine, but then frequently crying out as if he were in pain; not napping; eating very little.  His fever was down in the 100s, but fearing an ear infection, we took him in.

Of course, they couldn't find anything wrong with him other than a slightly inflamed throat, so we were told to keep doing what we were doing--alternating Tylenol and Ibuprofen, cool washcloths to bring down his temp, offering lots of fluids, and rest.  We put him to bed on Friday night with a dose of Tylenol.  At 12:30am, Nate was up playing online poker or something like that, and woke me up to the sound of Weston softly moaning and crying out.  We went in to check on him, and as soon as I took him out of his crib, I knew his temperature was going to be really high.  My little guy was cooking at 104.3.

I love my husband--we worked together to get him some Ibuprofen, water, cool washcloths, and we were able to bring his temperature down to 103, and he fell back asleep, but woke up again at 4:30.  Somehow, in his fever induced craze, he was able to put it together that waking up and crying in the middle of the night brings Mama in very quickly!  He fell back asleep for a little while, and the rest of the day on Saturday was a lot like the previous two days, except that I was getting more and more exhausted...  Let me say that dealing with a sick child is somehow quite similar to dealing with a newborn.

Sunday rolled around--nearly four days after the onset--and he had a rash covering much of his torso and neck.

Yup--roseola, a very common childhood virus, was the culprit.  He had a low-grade temperature, so that was improving significantly.  His appetite isn't quite back yet, and I think that has a lot to do with a sore throat, because he's hoarse.  It sounds super cute when he talks, but I know it's probably painful.  He also has some swollen lymph nodes on the back of his neck that will resolve in a week or so.


Here's to hoping that we can stave off any other illnesses for the rest of 2012!

A "Vacation"

Weston and I got back to Cinci last week after leaving about four weeks ago to drive to Wisconsin, spend time with family, and then hopping on a plane to Salt Lake City to visit my sister.  I had anxiety about traveling with a child (How's he going to nap?  Is he going to freak out on the plane, and I'll be that Mom that everyone wants to kill?  What if he refuses to take a nap at my mom's house?).  Some of it came true, some of it didn't, and the seemingly bad oftentimes had some good to it.

Con: He kept waking up at 5am at Central Time while we were in Wisconsin, no matter how early or how late we put him to bed.  Pro: I took advantage of his morning nap, and got to nap with him (like actually sleeping together in the same bed).  I haven't done that for a long time, and it was wonderful to cuddle with him.

Con: Airplanes suck.  The waiting, the cramped seats, Weston's inability to understand that he has to stay on my lap, etc. Pro: Other mothers are empathetic.  On our way back to Cincinnati from Salt Lake, we had an aisle seat in the back of the plane next to two other people.  Across the aisle was a woman, an empty seat, and a guy with the window seat.  As the number of people boarding was thinning out, the woman across the aisle turned to me and said, "Hey, it looks like no one else is going to take this seat.  Do you want to switch so that you have an empty seat?"  I looked at her like she was totally crazy for offering up her seat to me, and said, "Really??!??"  We switched under the agreement that I would "pay it forward" someday.  Absolutely!

Con: Camping with a little person is tough, especially if he's not used to it.  Weston didn't want to go to sleep the night we went--oh, the sounds of nature!-- and I finally got him to sleep at 10 pm.  He woke up at 5 am--oh, the sounds of nature!  Pro: The last time I went camping was on our 2010 Great Divide Route bike trip.  Living in a city, it's not likely that I get to stroll around at twilight, under the stars and a half moon, as hummingbirds buzz overhead.   It was totally peaceful, even as I was holding a sleepy baby, who now and again would catch a glimpse of the moon, point to it, and say, "Muh, muh."

In the tent

Weston Talks to Animals

It's been a great week so far out in Utah!  We braved 40 mph winds yesterday afternoon at the beach.

At the Jordanelle Reservoir 

Soaking up the rays with Deer Valley in the background

We stopped at Heber Valley Artisan Cheese this afternoon for some ice cream, and Weston kept signing "more" to Aunt Mary...  He's now napping after a sugar high.

Aunt Mary letting Weston help himself to some Cookies and Cream

Afterward, we stopped at a farm to let him check out donkeys and goats.  Uncle Shad said that Weston had his finger up the donkey's nose at one point.

Hello, Donkey!