Category Archive

Somebody asked me the other day how old X was. Without even thinking I said “Two…. and a half”. Because we moved onto the years some time ago. They, however, were insistent I calculate and tell them his age in months so that they could compare his development chronologically to that of their 49 month old. Or something. And so, I rolled my eyes and finger counted as I reasoned aloud, “2, is 24 months… July is the 7th month… so 24 plus 7 is… Holy hell he’s 31 months old!”

I don’t know why it shocked me so much but it was as if I saw him moving out of the two’s for the first time. He’s been twenty-something months for so long and saying thirty-something just sounds ridiculously old. 31 months. Almost three.

Whatever mile-marker he’s stumbled upon is suiting him well. He’s sprouted several inches in the past few months, is slowly loosing the baby belly, is all undies all the time and is keeping us on our toes. I forget sometimes that he doesn’t forget a thing. He remembers being a very small baby, like, a NICU small baby and talks about it sometimes. Tells me of times I wasn’t there. It’s both creepy and wonderful.

He’s hilarious, and musical and loving. He’s spirited, firey and stubborn. He is so much his Papa and me. Yet so much his very own. He’s speaking Spanish now, well. And often surprises me with words I didn’t know he knew in the middle of the night. Or the middle of playtime.

And now, rather than wake up and cry for me to come help him back to sleep, he slithers out of bed with ninja silence and hobbles down the stairs to say “Mama, I wake up” as if I were confused by his presence before me. He is so proud of himself and we of him.

I am most amazed by his imagination, his pretending. I love getting sucked into his world and traveling on the great adventures of simply being two. His beautiful, loving heart that seems to beat for everyone else leaves me speechless. And when it breaks I ache like I never thought possible.

I see him walking this tight rope between babyhood and the rest of life as he spontaneously inserts yoga poses into the middle of conversation. The crawling up on my lap to nurse pleading “I NEEED YOU” and the giggly “I want to do that! ALL BY MYSELF!” as I follow his finger to the tallest, steepest slide at the water park. And what do you say? The word “can’t” seems to have fallen out of our vocabularies. David and I look at one another and encourage him instead, “someday, buddy, someday”. And that’s just fine by him, because right now there are dumping buckets of water, and miniature froggy slides and a Mama and a Papa to hold his hand when it all gets a bit too tough. Until he gets older, “more growed up”, and he can take down this big world, all by himself. Or at least until he’s three.

Crazy. Busy. Week.

I want to crawl in a hole and hibernate and wake up about a year ago, but we’re drudging forward. We rounded out the craziness with a day at the 2nd International Babywearing Conference and some shopping with these fine ladies.

And then off to see David tattooing at Navy Pier. Not only is he in marathon tattoo mode, he’s practicing life as a jet setter as he hops on a plane this afternoon to fly to OH to see Tom Waits, only to come back on the first flight back after the show. Ahhh, the good life.

And now we’re off to have some fun and raise some money for these warriors (in pink). Xav wishes you all a very, um, contemplative day.

Girl and X photo’s by the amazing Crooked Eyebrow.

My dishwashing was just interrupted by this curious exchange…

Xavier: “Do you have my bill, Mom” (yes, I am now, often just MOM!)

Me: “What bill, sweetie?”

X: “My bill for my credit chards”

Me: [you're wha?!] “Ummmmm, here you go” [hand X old receipt]

X scurries into his playroom and returns with his “bill” and a prized business card all stacked together,

X: [heading for the stairs] “All set Mama, off to my date with my monkey!”

Me: “ooooook, where you going?!”

X: “You know, just for a quick spin”

Me: [thinking: where the heck does he gets this stuff!] “Have fun! See you later!”

Xav “returns” a few moments later and promptly flops down on his animal bag and tells me in the sternest toddler voice “Mama! I just need two seconds of quiet!”

Apparently the date didn’t go so well.

In other news, pooping while playing Legos produces great yields.

BBLP and Lego table of wonder, however will I repay you?

I complain about where we live often. I’m surrounded by friends and family, but suburbia and 9 months of winter does not suit me well. I’m a sunshine and city kind of girl.

Alas, our winter has melted away and June 1st finally brought a day of summer. Thankfully Xavier’s aversion to dirt does not apply to sand and waves. He was happy to romp and dump, flop and dig the day away. So much so, we’re headed back today. And I am for once gushing that the shores at least are only 7 minutes away.

Don’t worry I’ll get to the point in a minute…

I transfered all my photos from my laptop to my new computer recently and everything is a big mess. Instead of labeling a folder “Transfered from Laptop” and importing everything there, I managed to rename all of my files that. So now rather than having a folder with organized, categorized pics, every image on my PC is numbered 001 through 187340098, or something. And so what should have been a quick and painless search for the Mama Speaks logo ended up a painful search through the great abyss. The logo has been located, I am happy to report, but in the meantime I stumbled upon a photo that made my stomach churn.

The picture is not great and you might not see anything other than a teeny-tiny hairy leg, but this my friends is a vaccine reaction. At 4 months old X had his first and only round of standard shots and immediately we regretted our mistake. I should probably back track a little for those who don’t know the story and let you know that after much research throughout my pregnancy we had decided not to vaccinate. At least not to vax according to schedule. And then he was born 3 months premature and I don’t know what else to say other than after realizing our boy was going to make it, we took a breather and allowed ourselves to be swayed.

Upon X’s discharge from the NICU we were given the horrifying “facts” about preemies and RSV and decided to go ahead and “protect him” with Synagis (to be honest at that point we were so excited that he was COMING HOME they probably could have told us anything and we would have signed on), and so the slippery slope began… When we took Xav in for his 4 month well check, after his weighing in and assessment, they came out with the tray stocked not only with his Synagis but the witches brew of vaccines. And like good little parents we held him down while they stuck needle after needle into his tiny little legs.

And he screamed. And screamed. And screamed. I couldn’t even get my little barracuda to nurse (this kid never denies the boob!). He turned purple, then red, then broke out in hives. We called the nurse in and were told “Oh, that’s normal”. And so we left. And he screamed. It’s been long enough I’ve blocked out the complete duration of the screaming but it was hours. Hours from the Buddha baby who did not cry. And for days our boy was not the same. Not the same at all. Eventually, gradually, his personality tamed and returned but as it did the swelling began.

Our 4 month old who was “technically” a one month old (and about the size of a “normal” newborn) began to have this swelling in his leg. The same leg, same site in which he received his DTaP vaccine. It continued to swell until it was about the size of a golf ball (a golf ball on this twig leg was quite worrisome!) at which point it stopped and remained a rock hard lump for months and months and months.

Unfortunately, it took that to get us back on track. To just say no to the poisons our pediatrician regularly asks to inject into our child. Thankfully, he politely respects our stance. At the same time it saddens me that so many children are subjected to this. I know this is a heated issue, I know that study after study shows that vaccines are “safe” and “effective” and “needed”, but study after study and more importantly, story after story, will tell you just the opposite. I urge you to PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE do the research for yourself. Dig deep and question.

This is our story and I am so grateful that our boy, as far as we know, is now ok, but so often that is not the case. In the scheme of things his reaction wasn’t that bad, it could have been worse, but still he was injured. From a vaccine. And that makes me sick. Several of my closest friends also have vaccine injured children and whether people want to hear it or not, THIS is a devastating epidemic. One that needs to be stopped.

I welcome your thoughts and comments, I just ask you to be respectful with those who may not agree. And if you are looking for a place to start digging, below is the package insert for the vaccine that injured our son. An insert pediatricians are supposed to show every parent but rarely, if ever, do. Once you see it I’m sure you’ll understand why…

Diphtheria, Tetanus, acellular Pertussis (DTaP), Diphtheria, Tetanus, acellular Pertussis (DTaP), genetically-engineered Hepatitis B, Poliovirus (IPV) vaccine

Summary: Pediarix vaccine package insert summary, GlaxoSmithKline (Manufacturing by Chiron Behring GmbH & Co, Marburg, Germany and GlaxoSmithKline Biologicals, Rixensart, Belgium.) August 2003

Ingredients

-diphtheria toxin: Coynebacterium diphtheriae in Fenton medium containing a bovine extract;

-tetanus toxin: Clostridium tetani in Lathum medium from bovine casein;

-3 acellular pertussis antigens (PT, FHA, pertactin): Bordetella pertussis culture in modified Stainer-Scholte liquid medium;

-hepatitis B: cultured genetically-engineered Saccharomyces cerevisiae cells;

-poliovirus: 3 strains grow in monkey kidney cells (Vero) cultivated on microcarriers;

-aluminum hydroxide

-aluminum phosphate;

-calf serum;

-cysteine to remove residual thimerosal;

-formaldehyde;

-glutaraldehyde;

-lactalbumin hydrolysate

-neomycin sulfate

-2-phenoxyethanol

-polymixin B;

-polysorbate 80 (Tween 80);

-sodium chloride;

-thimerosal (49.6% mercury/12.5 ng mercury per dose);

-yeast.

Contraindications

-coma, decreased level of consciousness, prolonged seizures within 7 days of previous dose of pertussis-containing vaccine not attributable to identifiable cause.

-severe allergic or hypersensitivity reaction to ingredients;

Warnings

-previous adverse reactions from whole cell diphtheria-pertussis-tetanus (DPT) or acellular pertussis vaccines: 105 F

-temperature within 48 hours not due to identifiable cause

-collapse within 48 hours, persistent, more than 3 hours of inconsolable crying within 48 hours;

- seizures with or without fever within 3 days;

-Guillain-Barre syndrome within 6 weeks of prior dose of tetanus-containing vaccine;

-dry latex rubber in tip cap and rubber plunger of needleless prefilled syringes;

-vaccination deferred during moderate or severe illness with and without fever;

-Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS) mentioned in specific studies;

Precautions

-Infanrix not evaluated for carcinogenicity, mutagenicity or fertility impairment;

-no animal reproduction studies; -

-unknown if Infanrix can cause fetal harm when given to a pregnant woman or if Infanrix can affect reproduction capacity

-no safety and effectiveness of Infantrix studied and/or evaluated in children previously vaccinated with one or more doses of: hepatitis B vaccine, Infanrix, IPV, and interchangeablity of Pediarix and licensed DTaP, IPV and genetically-engineered hepatitis B vaccine;

-Pediarix given with caution for children with bleeding disorders;

-epinephrine available for allergic reactions;

Adverse Reactions: anorexia, appetite loss, crying, diarrhea, drowsiness, ear pain, fever, fussiness, irritability, liver function tests abnormal, pain, rash, seizures, site redness & swelling, Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS), vomiting. Twenty or more worldwide reports are listed for above reactions. More adverse reactions are listed.

For complete information, ask your doctor for Pediarix vaccine package insert.

The above summary provided is Illinois Vaccine Awareness Coalition. For the complete insert (too lengthy to reproduce here) feel free to get it from directly form the source.

And if you’d like to hear more from those close to me, Steph and Arianne have lots to say on this topic too.

He’s 3 feet tall. Three feet, one inch to be exact.

When I go to crawl into bed at night my little bean who used to curl up in his corner is sprawled out, covering my entire section of sleepable space. I no longer have to stretch my arm down to hold his hand without yanking it over his head, in fact, often, he’ll reach up and snuggle his arm around my waist. Comfortably. I still wear him often, but I’m starting to see an end in sight. Perched on my hip his legs dangle down to my knees, his shoulders and head nearly even with mine. He’s big.

And it’s not just the inches or the size 10 shoes. The 3T shorts and boxer briefs. He’s grown up. So fast. The past couple weeks have become an explosion of concepts and realities. Of mastery and new adventures.

Always my talker, my jokester, it just continues. He questions things I didn’t see. Has started to mention memories of days in his early infancy. He shows emotion and understanding in situations beyond his days, through random tears and pats on the back, jokes and belly laughs. It’s amazing. He, is amazing.

I marvel often at how his Papa and I, two utterly imperfect, clumsy people created something, someone, so whole, so alive, so wonderful.

I wonder what he’ll do with his world, what he’ll change, who he’ll be. And at the same time I see in his wake a sea of people who are different, already, for having known him.

There is a part of me that feels odd saying that about my boy, but it’s not boastful or selfish. Maybe it’s proud of him, in him, but more than anything it is pure wonderment. Love.

Xavier and Grayson feeding the geese

I wish I had the photo of Gray’s Mama and I watching our boys, staring at their sweetness.

I really needed a nap today. It had been three long days without and a gloom and doom rain filled day, after a glimpse of summer wiped me out. Xavier’s been slacking on the naps lately, he needs it still, but in those three days past he had daytime snoozed for a total of 90 minutes. This Mama’s used to his normal 2-3 hours a day. I needed a break.

Saying this is funny because his nap time isn’t generally a break for me. If he’s napping he’s nursing and no matter the setting, if I attempt to leave his side my feather weight sleeper bolts upright like he had never closed his eyes.

And so today we headed to bed before he was even tired enough for me to notice, we read and snuggled and settled in for what was certain to be the nap of the century. The cloud cover outside cast shadows in our bedroom that could have been mistaken for our night time scene. With no lawnmowers, playing kids, or stereos to contend with our sound machine whispered on without interruption. Xavier was out before I finished the first round of our sleepy song, and I shut my eyes and waited to drift off to blissful sleep.

Except I couldn’t. With eyes closed my brain went into overdrive bouncing here and there. My body battled, I NEED REST! but my mind would not settle. I tried meditating, relaxing everything from the hair on my head to my toenails; and while I felt my body melt away into relaxation my mind was fleeting. I tried my other tricks, catching up on iPhone gossip, reading a couple chapters in a not so interesting book, and nothing was bringing me close to slumber. I get to this spot where I can either choose to give up and resign to staring at the ceiling fan, or let myself stew and get anxious, antsy that I can’t sleep but can’t get up.

Today I chose to do neither. Instead I discovered this tiny little face just inches from mine. A face that isn’t so tiny anymore. And I fell in love all over again.

The closed half moon eyes, the heart shaped face, the beads of sweat on the most kissable upper lip alluding to a boy grown up more than I’d like to admit. A hand that used to clutch my finger now relaxes itself in my palm; it fills it up. Yet that head is where it’s always been right in the crook of my arm.

I remember the early days, wanting to pause and rewind our moments so much. For the most part, I think I’m past that, but often I have those memories, glimpses of the tiny babe that will never be again. To the same degree my mind jumps forward, I often have a passing glance in which I see my husband in miniature, but in his own. Of a baby not a baby but a boy. And even scarier those moments I see a little man. Scared because I realize that’s what we’re doing here; raising a man. A man who will always need us, our love, but won’t always be here with us, resting and growing. That’s the point.

And while I wish I could stare at his sweaty little head in the fold of my arm forever I am excited to see him grow even more. To move onto pillows and beds and places beyond this watchful eye. But I suppose I will always be watching and he growing. I just hope he’ll always know that spot is his, whenever he needs it.

Besides, I’ll always have the memory.

Digging in the dirt makes me feel alive. There’s something about moving earth that is cleansing in a completely metaphorical corny way. But it’s true. Under the surface there is so much going on that we don’t think about as we walk atop it day in and out. The bugs and the roots and the layers.

Since Xavier was born I have been anticipating the days outside, digging and planting and being. He was still too unsteady on his feet last year for me to tackle anything major, so we stuck to a container garden on the deck, but I have been excited to finally do something about our miserable excuse for a yard this year. And for him to be right there by my side digging along.

Yesterday we were graced with warm air and sunshine, a true gift after the winter that just keeps on giving; and so we set out to seize the day. As I said, our yard is miserable: our teeny, tiny, town house yard, I’ll save you the sob story, but it’s bad and we’ve been waiting around for the appropriate folks to fix it but two years later- it’s all mine, baby. Being this summery day was a surprise, we had to work with what we had on hand which meant digging up some bunchy bushes and splitting them to fill in the great expanse of nothingness along our front walk.

I was bursting at the seams and as I gave X the pep talk of our day out, full of shovels and critters and sun, he was ecstatic too. Or so I thought…

We dove right in with his gardening set up in miniature right beside mine, but as I grabbed shovel and handful of dirt he stood there shaking, “Ewww, Dirty! Hands! Mama!” What?! This coming from the boy that in our at home hours walks around with yogurt on his head, paint from head to toe, and would rather wait for the crud to flake off than let me near him with a wash cloth?

And so it continued. My advance at Insectology 101 was met with some interest until I had the nerve to suggest that this boy of mine hold a worm, or come closer to see the Roley-Poley guy do his shtick. I have never seen my little darling run faster in his short little life.

I don’t mean to poke fun, he was a good sport, after a jaunt away from his dirt covered Mama, he would tip-toe approach to see what I was up to. Maybe, just maybe, this dirt ain’t so bad afterall…. um, nope, it is. definitely is. outta here.

And so I toiled on for hours and kept a watchful eye over my little one as he kicked up his feet and read his pile o’ books in the shade. What can I say, he’s his Papa’s boy. At least next time I’ll know to be prepared with grapes and paper umbrellas.

When I tickle your chin, you giggle so deep you snort. THAT makes me happy.

xoxo, Mama

At this very moment Xavier is in the throws of his very first tantrum. Sure he’s had little meltdowns before but at 28.5 months this a first. This is the real deal and it came on with a quickness. He wants to go vote again and really wants to go to the park RIGHT. NOW. even though he knows we’ll be headed there in about an hour. We’re big on positive parenting, gentle discipline and such around these parts but I have exhausted my bag of tricks. The talking and holding- failed miserably. The listening and empathizing- notsomuch. An aresenal of other diversionary and inclusive tactics all fell flat to his rampant screams of “I.WANT.TO.GO.TO.THE.PARK.MAMA!!!”

There are tears and wails and a little body thrashing about. It’s sad, it’s tough to see, breaking my heart. We decided that I would go over here while he worked his feelings out and we could talk after he calmed down. But the minutes are ticking away. And as they do my heart breaks more, because what he is feeling in this very moment, while slightly comical in excess and obviously wrought with toddler drama, is real. The extent of his want and conflict that we CAN’T go right this very moment, and that even if we did, it might not fix anything, is oh, so real.

And I’m torn. We obviously need to find some tools to help him deal a little bit better, some outlets if you will. But who am I to say he needs to “stop this right now!” because a nice long cry doesn’t quite fit into my schedule? What exactly is wrong with his behavior in this moment? It’s not acceptable to fall down on the floor and wail if we don’t get our way of course, but if he’s overwhelmed, if he thought something was going to happen and it didn’t and for whatever reason, this is the day that that hurts so very bad, then what’s the big deal? Goodness do I need time out for a good cry sometimes, and believe me it doesn’t always happen when I have alloted time. And so I’m torn still, between letting him naturally get this out and discover what he needs or swooping in to rescue him from his hurt.

In reality, sitting here from 10 feet away while he thrashes and cries I just want to join him. I want to hold him and wail and tell him how sorry I am that he aches as he does. I wish that I could protect him from these little hurts that seem so big and those big hurts he will inevitably experience down the road. But I know I can’t. And so as the wailing subsides, and his thrashing calms, he sits up and looks at me and says oh so sweetly, “I [cry hiccup] just want to [cry hiccup] go to the [cry hiccup] park, mama”. And all I know to do is look right back and say “I know you do honey, and we will”.

And we will, in an hour, as planned. Until then, he has climbed up on my lap to nurse, he instantly melted into my flesh. One little hand twirls my shirt as his little body hiccups and shakes away the torrent of emotion he just experienced. Maybe later we’ll talk about this, maybe I’ll wait for him to talk about his great big cry or maybe I’ll bring it up, we can hash it out and see if there would have been a better way. Diagnose, if you will, why this very morning something which seems so trivial turned his happy castle on it’s side. Or maybe we won’t.

Until then, I’ll just let him rest here, continue to kiss his head, breath in what little bit is left of my baby, hum his goodnight song and allow everything to be right with our world.

I’m taking a sick day. For real, this is misery, people. (in interest of full disclosure, I am the biggest baby when I’m sick) Thankfully, I don’t get sick often, which I think makes the ratio of wimpy-ness to time infirmed correlate perfectly, but maybe I’m just justifying.

If you’d like Dr. Google’s official diagnosis it’s either flu or Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. Dr. X weighed in on RMSF but due to the absence of tick infestation I’m sticking by the flu. While I’m tempted to spare you the details, I won’t. My toenails and eyelids are achy (in addition to every other square-millimeter of my body inside and out), I am exhausted, with migraine, and to put the icing on the fresh baked cake of woe, let’s just say my digestive system isn’t quite doing it’s job.

So a day off it is. While I am fanticizing about my darling husband running me a hot bath, delivering cool wash cloths, installing a bidet, and massaging my aching bod, someone has to bring home the bacon and tattoo the universe. Instead, it looks like I’m in for lots of nursing, endless rounds of match-game with my boy and maybe, just maybe, an afternoon nap. Let’s just hope this is the quick and painful bout of flu-ness because as you all know Mama is NOT allowed to be sick.

I leave you with some random cuteness. Because you all know you want to don some “Max shoes”, a dragon cape and rock out every once and a while.

5 Minutes for Mom is having an amazing Mother’s Day Photo Contest. More info and entries here.

*UPDATED: I had planned on letting these photo’s speak for themselves, but I’ve received a few emails wanting to know more. If you’d like to read how our early bird went from belly to hospital bed, our birth story is here.

Since before Xavier was born I have been writing him letters. Letters written now but addressed to him down the road. I’m not sure why exactly, sometimes I have a moment of perspective in his babyhood that I know I’ll want to share later and sometimes I have the terrifying thought that there is always the possibility I won’t be here at some point in his life. Yet, maybe I can be there for him, if I pour myself onto paper now.

Some time ago I wrote a letter to X, it began: Dear Xavier, 19 months, to be read when you experience your first broken heart. My words are pretty universal, but in writing them, I was imagining a teenage X, watching “the girl” get away for the first time or having a friend prove to be less than. Or maybe his Papa and I would make a decision in his best interest that in his mind was devastating…

What I never expected was that I would be writing to Xavier aged 2. Xavier aged 27 months. Yet in the past few months I have seen this little guys heart break no less than 3 times. At loss. And it’s rough. His Grandpa Cliff died. His sweet, sweet Grandpa, who although he didn’t see very often was by far one of his most favorite people on the planet. They just connected. And when he was “all gone… living with Jesus”, X got it. He got it to an extent I never would have expected him too. He wept and screamed and mourned with a loss that was almost primal. Pure.

And then we made the difficult decision to rehome our dogs. And while it was truly the best choice for us and our pups, it has been hardest on little Javi. Even our puppy Solomon, who had only been part of our family for weeks was sad to see go, but Oliver. Oh, Oliver. He has been in Xavier’s life since it existed. They were buddies, brothers. And again, he has felt the loss, the missing, the heartache. He knows that Oliver is in Arizona with Uncle Eric and Aunt Stephanie (the reason we drove down there to begin with), that we can look at pictures and visit him someday soon. But he also knows that Oliver is not close, he’s not here, and while I knew it would be tough, a transition, I didn’t expect how hard it would be. He talks about him daily, every time he gets sad, his default is to cry for Oliver, he aches. Prayers every night include “Thank you Jesus for Oliver and Solomon”.

I am so thankful we have a little boy who is so sensitive, who connects to people, who is in tune, who loves without bounds. But I also ache for him. In the moment and in moments I get ahead of myself. I don’t want him hardened, I don’t want him broken, and while I know that as the years carry on, as life happens, certain things slowly widdle away. I see the heartbreak ahead of him, but I hope that his sweet spirit remains. That he knows love as he knows it now. Big love can mean big loss, but I hope he sees it’s worth it even when it hurts and knows that this is what life is all about.

I’m just realizing that it’s almost been a week since Xav’s surgery. Everything went well and honestly I think it is one of those things that is harder on us than him.

He wasn’t too happy to come out of the anesthesia and was in a lot of pain the first two days, but little by little, rather than him bumming around we were having to find crafty ways to make him rest and heal. Unfortunately for us, our no-screen time rule went by the way side and we now have a little guy with a serious Cars habit. He knows once he’s better it’ll be back to normal and I’m waiting to see if he’s clever enough to find a way to prolong his agony so he can spend more time with with his new favorite friends. He’s already imitating “Nightning McQueen” and “Tater Mater Tow Truck” and an unfortunate jaunt to Target gave me my first real glimpse at Xavier the brand/character knowing consumer.

All said, he was doing great. Until we realized that his almost hourly potty runs weren’t producing anything other than frustration. It had been how many days since he’d pooped? He isn’t the most regular guy, so we tried all of our tricks and then as day 4 and 5 turned into, “if I’m not nursing, I’m screaming” and going to the potty and straining until blood vessels break and blood comes out of a place it definitely should not and I’m bearing down as if giving birth and telling my poor helpless Mommy “This is SO hard to do, Mama!”" I decided to call the surgeon and the ped., on a Saturday of course. We tried suppositories, an enema, milk of magnesia and nothing would make this kid of ours poop. He stopped eating and drinking, his belly was tight as can be, his incisions were hurting and so we finally had to take him to the ER.

This is where I’m thinking I might need to break this up into multiple posts to preserve my sanity, but just stick with me here. We don’t live in a big city, but our closest ER seems to think they are located somewhere of great importance and busy-ness. I was hopeful as they called us right back to get him checked in and then said it would be just a couple of minutes before they had a room for him. “Really?! Thanks!”, I said. And then happily sat and ate my words for the next 120-some minutes.

Finally we have a room and nurses, phlebotomists, the doctor and x-ray, oh, so slowly trickle in and out as the hours tick by. Not once do they attempt to address the problem or help make him more comfortable, just order tests and collect samples and leave without saying anything useful. And then, somewhere within hour four on our third attempt to get Xav to pee so they can test that, he breaks out into spontaneous Lamaze breathing, strains, screams and pushes for a few minutes finally delivering 6 days worth of poo. As much as we would have liked to run out the door at that very moment it made sense to wait and see what all those tests said, just in case.

Hour 5. The doc comes in and it goes down something like this:

Doc: “So, um, I was just looking over his X-rays and did he happen to have any clothing on?”

Me (David ran to the bathroom): Well, he had this shirt on, but it was unbuttoned and his diaper. Why?

Doc: “Well, um, there a appears to be something that looks like a needle, a sewing needle in his abdomen”

Me (holding in my disire to curse and scream): “Yeah, um, well, that’s… really… scary….”

Doc: “I’m going to order another x-ray to be sure and then we’ll talk” (as he flys out the door)

David comes back and I fill him in as we try not to freak-the-eff out. It honestly may have been semi-comical if it weren’t for the fact that he just had a surgery that required them to SEW his abdomen shut. Our hearts and minds are racing, vacillating between pissed and practical, thinking of every odd occurrence during and after his surgery (such as them telling us it took an extra 20 minutes because their sponge count was off), googling how often this actually happens (way too often), and waiting for them to come and take another x-ray so we can officially loose it already.

They call us out and wonder of wonders as we’re waiting for the X-ray to be available in walks our surgeon. He’s all “what are you doing here?!” (he knew we were going there) 20 questions, of course I’m on edge but it was all just really freaking odd. Another X-ray. More waiting. Lots of waiting. Lots of trying not to loose it already. Doc comes in and tells us (after looking things over WITH our surgeon) that the x-ray is clear. No needle. Ok, WTF so you saw a needle and now you don’t? And we don’t mean to seem like conspiracy theorists, but I’m less than trusting of our medical system and all the variables just seemed a bit much (this was the hospital he had his surgery at as well) And we officially begin to freak the eff out. We demand to see the x-rays, which is greeted with, “um, yeah, sure of course”, and 20 minutes later we are reluctantly shown his x-rays. To cut to the chase they tell us they mixed up the x-rays and there is actually someone else in the ER at that moment that has a needle in her abdomen. A grown woman. They mixed up the x-rays of a 2 year old boy and a grown woman? Yeah. And then, without ever telling us how any of his labs or tests looked a nurse walks in with discharge papers. 6+ hours later.

We head home and try to quickly figure out what to do. Obviously not ok with all that happened. We decided that for us to be ok, we need to get another x-ray, just to be sure… To make a really long story as short as possible, friends and family and connections are great. We go to another ER, explain what happened and are treated AMAZINGLY! They took more x-rays (yes, Xavier is now officially radioactive), requested his labs and reports from the first hospital (not surprisingly no x-rays or x-ray reports were included) and thankfully, praise God there is no needle in Xavier’s belly.

At 1:00 am, almost 12 hours since it all began we head home. Relieved, exhausted, wary.

We’re no strangers to X and the hospital, but I don’t think any amount of time spent there can prepare you for more. Thankfully, outside of his NICU days, the X-man has been pretty healthy. Well there were those lovely months of Salmonella poisoning, but we won’t talk about that right now…

Tomorrow morning we’ll head back to the hospital we used to live in for a double operation. I’ve tried to remain as calm as possible in preparing X, but it’s starting to hit me that it’s TOMORROW and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t freaking out just a little bit. (ok, so more like steadily approaching panic). Doctors love to throw out terms like “routine”, but I really think someone should tell them that when your two year old is involved, it doesn’t help any. I mean routine is something that is commonplace according to Mr. Webster and I don’t know about you, but having my son knocked out and cut into isn’t generally on our agenda. So yes, it may be routine for YOU Doc, but there ain’t nothing commonplace about it in our camp.

Anyway, they will be repairing Xav’s double contributing hydrocele, and at the same time figure out what’s going on and fix his umbilical/abdominal hernia. Sounds fun doesn’t it? So, I am obviously bothered that he will be going under general anesthesia. Of course I wouldn’t want him awake, but I’m in a season where any amount of risk is making me want to loose my black bean soup. And then there is my vivid imagination and the fact that my son will be handed back to me with incisions and sutures meaning his tiny, precious body will have been opened up in places it was not intended to be. Oh, and did you catch that they are operating on the family jewels?! The future of the Allen family will quite literally be in his surgeons hands. So, take a good look at this gorgeous little outie because after tomorrow it will be an innie.

We have to be there at 7 am for surgery at 8:30. and thankfully the whole shebang shouldn’t take more than an hour or two. By lunchtime we should all be sipping kiddie-cocktails on the beach (oh, sorry, dreaming). I have absolutely no clue how recovery will be. X had oral surgery last year and by the evening of he was back to his invincible self. The doc seems to think he’ll be good to go within a couple days and completely fine by the time we go back in a week to get stitches out. Lets just say I’m not making any big plans for awhile.

He’s recently perfected the jump, so yes, this is a bit of old news but I just had to share. Last April at 18 months, Xavier took his first steps. Of course, it happened at church where we were totally unprepared to capture the moment with anything but our memories. Or so I thought.

A couple weeks ago, X and I went out to lunch with our in-love’s and were talking to a couple from our church who casually mentioned they had camera phone footage of the moment. Hello?! Ever think to tell the mama? Ok, so I was a bit creeped out, but oh, so grateful!

The video is teeeeny tiny, as such we’re all sorts of pixelated blobs but that’s X near the pole wobbling along, me on the floor and that’s his lovely little Lexie in the white. Here he goes…

My baby is sick. Projectilius Vomitus, triple digit heat, moans and groans and… giggles. It’s days like today that I realize just how sloppy in love I still am. Those early days were easy, the newness, the novelty, the hormones - but over time it wears a little, only it doesn’t, it tunnels, it deepens, this giddy glorious gush becomes a primal all encompassing adoration.

But it also becomes normal. When the days turn to weeks turn to months and now years! you get used to this little human being existing, amazing. And life happens, we do and move and busy. We live. And then it hits me, I realize it’s been a really long time since I’ve stopped to drink it all in. I’ll never be able to write enough down, to photograph each instant I’d like would mean me behind a lens rather than in a moment, and memories fade too quickly… still there are too many blank pages in the baby book, too many posts here about me, about stuff, about nothing.

So rather than want to, I will, I am in this moment documenting glimpses of forever…

Dear Xavier, 25 months, 20 days, 25 Things that make me smile

1. Absolutely comes out Abo-lutsey and is often combined with a random name, as in “Abolutsey Pastor Tim”
2. The words “Ylang-Ylang” and Jockey illicit the biggest belly laughs I’ve ever seen
3. I don’t know when the imagination began, but now it never ends. To see food become animals you’ve only read about, random space shuttle sightings in our living room and tales of adventure that dwarfs that on the silver screen amazes me.
4. You thought we should name Solomon, Yogurt, and will tell anyone who asks that he is not a dog but a “Dob-er-MAN puppy”
5. Yesterday you said, “Guess what Mama?! I love you!”
6. You made Papa fajita pancakes. My favorite.
7. Spidey says “I lub You” and he does.
8. Yoga.
9. When the going gets tough, nonny still cures all.
10. Boogie checks and belly buttons
11. Our daily dinosaur assignments. Today you told me I could be Velociraptor (you were Allosaurus) Papa was T-Rex. My favorite? Mamasaurus
12. Randomly, you’ll tell me about angels, or Jesus. I struggle with our religion but you give me faith.
13. Celebrating poop.
14. You’ve asked me many times to have a baby in my belly so you can have a big sister. (let’s keep talking about how that all works!)
15. “Yowt-see!” (Yahtzee)
16. Conversation. Words became sentences long ago and now paragraphs that I could listen to until the end of time. (and I will)
17. Your honesty.
18. Only time will tell what you’ll “be” but the glimpses at your inherent gifts/likes/loves is awesome. Music, drumming!, painting, art, words.
19. My one man band. Two drum sticks and a microphone.
20. Your sometimes southern drawl.
21. The way you touch my cheeks and play with my hair and give me hugs and kisses. Those unsolicited “Mama IS pretty” comments don’t hurt either.
22. If I forget to buckle you in your highchair you push yourself away from the table and say “I’m sorry Mama, it’s ok” (I sometimes forget on purpose just so I can hear you say it)
23. The way your eyebrows furrow and your lips pucker when Papa leaves for work. “Where’d Papa go’d?” and the smile when “Papa IS home!”
24. No matter how silly, tired, squeezy, frustrated, stinky or happy I get, you want to be right by my side. (I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else)
25. You love like I’ve never seen love before. People, animals, everyone, everything, unconditionally.

Sweet Xavier,
I used to be so good about monthly posts and updates but I’ve been neglecting them more and more. Actually, its ok because the less time I spend here the more time I have for you. Or sleep. And since you love sleep almost as much as me I know you understand. You’re sleeping right now actually, right here in the crook of my arm nursing and snoozing away. My plan had originally been to let you sleep and then sneak away (something I rarely do) to tackle some laundry or something equally dreary, but every time you roll over and I attempt to sit up, you flop back over and sleepily scramble around for more “nonny”. And so I’m laying here slowly blogging on your beloved iPhone.

In my mind this month blends with the last and the one before that so forgive me if I don’t document much “new-ness”. Fall has settled in and you are loving the changes. Wondering why the green tree is turning red, the air is colder and the squirrels are frantically ridding our trees of nuts and acorns. It’s dark now when we go get Papa from work and you love hunting the moon. You keep me busy. Keep me smiling. Occasionally you’ll tell a joke that’s so funny you even crack yourself up.

Most of all I am amazed at how you love. Of course papa and I get the bulk of you gushiness, but people matter so much to you. You remember your friends and strangers alike, you want to know how they are doing, you want to see and share. So often we’ll be lost in a task and you’ll ask about someone- its just as likely to be your best buddy as some man you spotted on a walk 3 weeks past. That’s what life is all about my boy and I’m amazed you get that now.

Of course you are a toddler, still figuring out your wants and needs, your place, at times that gets overwhelming- understandably- and a meltdown may ensue. Always remember that everyone needs a good cry every once in a while and believe me, I have moments I wish I could fall down on the floor and sob because the sun isn’t shining.

I feel obligated to share some of your current favorites and so I will- you love Dinosaurs, you know their names and what they eat, and you do this super cute Dino walk. Your favorite changes, it was T-Rex, Triceratops (”cera-pots”), then Appatasaurus. Today it’s Trachadon. He eats grass. Things that go are also pretty impressive- trains and trucks, airplanes and the ambulance. You’ve always had music in your bones, but now you really make your own. You’re always singing, playing the piano, or the big guitar. I am grateful you are content listening to our “real” music. Even if it means I have to explain to Granny that your favorite singer really is Bob Marley.

You are ALWAYS talking and I love it. My little narrator explaining away our days. You don’t sign much anymore, really just to add extra emphasis to your “please” and “sorry”. In fact when I showed you some of your old baby signs the other day you thought it was hilarious and gave me that look like I was making things up. You count to ten (well almost- you seem to have an aversion to the number 5) and can spell your name - x.a.v.I.E.RRRRR!- and colors are old news.

You are a bit of a study in genetics, your ability to understand and speak Spanish amazes me. Even though you don’t hear it much, you just get it. Not too long ago your Aunt Olivia (leeba) brought you some Spanish/English flash cards, I’ll admit I rolled my eyes, flashcards are about as much fun as having your fingernails trimmed, but you curled up into her lap and for nearly 30 minutes straight listened to words and phrases and repeated every single one in Spanish. And you surprise me by throwing them in our conversations here and there…

Well little one, I’m rambling and could continue on and on and on. Just know you are loved. Can’t wait to see what this month brings!

All my squeezes,
Mama

As of this morning Xavier is officially a NICU grad!

Since he was discharged from the hospital 17 months ago we have been returning for developmental clinics. We meet with a physical therapist, speech pathologist and neonatologist to track his development and look for any lasting effects of prematurity. So far he’d sailed through all the checks with flying colors, but we still had to wait. But today, we got the green light!

We have fallen in love with everyone there, they sort of become a second family and it is a huge relief to know that now, we’ll only be going back to visit. The first time I held him, Xavier was so small he’d fit in one of his Daddy’s hands. To see him grow, from our tiny 3 pound- 28 weeker, to the little boy he is today has been such a journey. To think then, that by the age of two it would all be behind us, was unthinkable. And yet, today, the fact that our 19 month old- should be 16 month old, is functioning physically, mentally, well above his actual age, blows my mind.

He’ll always be my early bird and I’ll never forget those early days, good and bad, up and down. Day’s we thought would be his last, yet knew our world had been forever changed. And days we knew that we would someday leave that hospital as three. There’s no erasing that, nor would I want to.

But today he is just my miracle. Our proof that hope is real and prayers are answered.

You make me so proud X-man. Your strength and courage and will, leave me speechless all too often. Today, and always, I am honored to have been chosen as your Mommy.

I couldn’t resist sharing this picture of X showing off his Downward Dog -he loves doing yoga with me! And of course he’s not wearing any pants…

I hope to get back to posting as usual one of these days!

A bit ironic that a few of you assumed Xavier was walking in my last post. No walking. Just a master cruiser. Give him something to push and I’m convinced he’d ‘walk’ for miles. Let him hold your hand and he’ll happily stroll along beside you. He can stand with the best of them, just no steps. Not on his own.

Until Sunday. We’re at church. After the music portion of the service we always sit out in the foyer with the other Mama’s, Papa’s and babes, so that X doesn’t interrupt the sermon with his “prayers”. He is always surrounded by other boys. Except at church. Where it seems there are always a handful of little girls to hug and smooch and cruise after. This week little Lexie, stole his heart. They hugged and poked, showed each other their bellies and competed to see who could do “so big” the biggest… and then, not to be out done by the little lady (she’s 12 months old, the cutest, most petite little thing you ever did see, and she can run) he took a step. And then another. And another. His FIRST steps!

The finest steps I ever did see. Wobbly, a bit stompy. One foot after the other in itty, bitty succession. I cried. David cried. I think Grandmama cried too. So proud.

Of course I didn’t have a camera. And of course he hasn’t taken off since, but he walked. He can walk. I think I’m still in shock. One of those moments for the record books. One of those moments you wait and wait for and then in all the excitement fight the urge to pause or rewind. But I can’t slow him down, I can only enjoy these moments for what they are, while they last. And so these days I’m renewing my efforts to slow down. To be. To be with him. To savor every second.

So we’re at church today getting ready to take communion. As I go to put the little cracker in my mouth X looks up at me and exclaims…

Our little talker has been on a spree, coming up with 2-3 new words a day the past couple of weeks. My favorites this week-

• Bubbles (bah-bowls)
• People (peee-puhl)
• Teeth (always said in a tiny whisper)

and drum roll please

• penis (loud and clear of course!)

I’m very glad that we’re teaching him the appropriate names for things, but he’ll already happily show you where his and Oliver’s are… I have a feeling this one might get us in a bit of trouble!

Xavier had a developmental clinic check at the NICU on Wednesday. We look forward to these, and were looking forward to this one especially. A quick visit with the nurses who’ve come to mean so much to us, a physical therapy evaluation and a mini check-up by the neonatologist and we’re on our way in no time (ok, so it’s more like three hours time, it is after all a ‘clinic’)
So how’d it go?

Developmentally- language/motor skills, etc. Xavier is ‘testing’ well above his ACTUAL age! Physically- he weighs 26 lbs. 5 oz and is 31 inches tall, again above average for his ACTUAL age. We’ll go back in 4 months just to make sure he’s walking ok, but the doctor said there is no other reason for them to continue seeing him. To officially graduate by age 2 is a huge accomplishment! We are singing praises in the Allen household.

Little X has also endured his first trip to the dentist. Two different dentists in two days to be exact. His top four teeth were showing signs of decay (despite brushing twice a day before he even had teeth!) and it was just getting worse. Xav was quite the trooper. I thought the first visit had gone ok, until we got home and I replayed all the doc had said. He was a bit demeaning, told me I needed to wean X and would give me no real reason why he is having such a problem with his top four teeth while the bottom four are beautiful. He wanted me to bring X back so they could strap him to a table, drill and bond his teeth, while he was awake. Oh yeah, and I couldn’t be present. No thank you!

So take two. This dentist was lovely! She explained that often preemies tooth enamel doesn’t completely form leaving them vulnerable, and in X’s case he was on tons of antibiotics as a little guy which weakens them further, and then iron supplements which stain and weaken even more. She did a quick cleaning in office and offered a much brighter outlook (and was supportive of extended nursing). We’re brushing after every thing he eats and going back in a couple of months but she thinks if we stay on top of things, and do a little work down the road (with proper anesthesia and mama present!) his teeth will be just fine. Big sigh!

I need to take him in for an iron/anemia screen and his 15 month well check next week and then we are d-o-n-e with doctor’s for a while!

My dearest Stephanie, had the brilliant idea to focus this week’s photo tag on our baby bumps… Here is my favorite pregnant photo

We were in Rome. San Pietro I believe. David and I and our baby to be finally taking our dream honeymoon.

I was 6 1/2 months pregnant and unfortunately this is about as big as my belly was able to get. I know these here photo tags are supposed to be sunny, and I’ll try my best not to cloud up the parade too much, but this is a tough one for me…

One of the hardest parts of having a preemie is the loss of your pregnancy. Obviously your immediate focus is on the health and care of your baby. But when the dust settles you are left feeling a bit incomplete. Not many understand. Your baby was the point of that belly after all, so what’s the big deal? But it is difficult. Even on a biological level you are supposed to be pregnant for 9 months, my body, my mind was disrupted and confused. I delivered at 28 weeks, 1 day. I missed out on 12 weeks of pregnancy. My entire 3rd trimester. To this day I cringe when I hear a woman, 30 some weeks pregnant complain about how miserable and huge and uncomfortable she is, how much she wishes her baby would just come out already. I grieve what she takes for granted.

We know we want more children, and although I really know we’re not ready I have to consistently fight the want to be pregnant again. I loved every moment of being pregnant, I felt so comfortable, so beautiful. I look forward to someday completing a pregnancy. To loose sight of my toes, experience swollen ankles and have my belly button turn itself inside out seems heavenly… and at the same time, if I could manipulate history I wouldn’t change a thing.

Alert the blogger police - this isn’t wordless wednesday …
Today I celebrate my shrunken Valentine’s 14 months on this planet. The changes 30 days can bring are amazing. My baby is slowly slipping away, forever replaced by this little boy - exploding with personality and curiosity galore. He looks more like his Papa each day. His eyes, the smile- those curls I just can’t bear to cut! X still hasn’t trusted himself to take those first steps alone but is wonderful at strolling around the house behind his wagon or a chair. And I won’t say I don’t blame him, the speed at which he crawls is very impressive.

Xavier is going pee and poo on the potty several times a day and even when we don’t quite make it there the pride on his face is priceless. He loves to eat -blueberries, soy yogurt and tofu are still the gold standard and the beginnings of ‘me do’ are emerging as he tries to balance a little bite on his fork or spoon occasionally making it to his mouth. I’m amazed at how inherently boy he is - grabbing any available object and ‘driving’ it across the floor with a “vroom”. And the climbing! Did I mention he’s climbing the stairs?! (and the coffee table…and his chairs…) Oh and when he drops or throws something it’s either “uh-oh” or my favorite “ka-boom!”

My boy has music in his bones and can find a rhythm in anything from the garbage disposal to Oliver’s snoring. To see him dance and bounce around is sure to make you smile… He’s started singing and humming- “shoo be do…hmmmmm” Another favorite these days is taking lids off and on and off and on. (and I wonder why we bother with toys when empty water bottles, jars and bowls entertain for hours) And Xavier is very serious about his reading. I’m just waiting for him to surprise me with an English accent as he asks “book?”, then carefully turns and scans each page, book after book after book. And maybe that’s why his vocabulary is exploding. To those he’s added all of these:
up
all done
bye-bye
dad
mom
car
peek-a-boo
cat (and meow)
cow (and moo)
woof
off
down
help
duck (and quack)
more
talk
phone
sit
sock
on
shoe
hat
vacuum
pee
wet
ark (as in Noah’s)
train
choo-choo
book
balloon
night-night
eat
rock
ka-boom - do sound effects count?!

But it’s not all serious, the kid makes jokes! He’ll put a book on his head. And crack up. Hide a toy behind his back. And crack up. Initiate a game of chase or peek-a-boo. And crack up. And my favorite- he’ll look at Oliver, call him ‘mama’. And laugh and laugh and laugh.

So often he’s on the go, go, go and I find myself being very thankful to still be nursing. That amidst all his busy-ness he still seeks me out - “milk, mama!” - to snuggle, regroup and reconnect. I often find myself wanting to hit pause- “I need to hold on to this moment!” not wanting my favorite things to vanish and then he does something new, something so amazing I can’t wait to see what the next moment brings.

Xavier’s little potty has sat in our living room for a couple weeks now. About once a day he shows interest in it and I remove his diaper and set him on it, like a true man he asks for a book and I sit with him and read until he signs ‘all done’. No results, but he’s seemed to really enjoy the routine. Today, however… David and I put X on his potty to read his animal book over… and over.. and over again as he demonstrated how he can “quack” and “woof” and “cock-a-doodle-doo”. Eventually tells us he’s done and I help him down - but wait! There’s pee in there! Celebration, clapping, and cheers ensue! and then the day moves on. After all that had to be a fluke…

Fast forward an hour or two, Xav and I are immersed in our cars and trucks - pushing and chasing and vrooming all over the place, when he gets this funny look on his face, crab walks it to the pot and says “Uh-Oh!” I run over take off his diaper, help him up, grab the book and immediately he pee’s. In his potty. Again! So cool! Is this supposed to be happening?!

I am definitely entering uncharted territory here! Do we get more proactive with the training or continue following his lead - I certainly don’t want to put any pressure on him, but if he’s initiating I don’t want to hold him back…

Xavier crawls with this sort of crab walk, where one knee stays bent, foot flat on the floor while the other scoots across the ground, propelling him at alarming speed. Very cute. Very efficient. But not so nice on his little knee. He also has quite a Buddha belly, pants dig in and his tum rolls over, which means when we’re home he’s almost always scooting around in a just a shirt or onesie. Naked legs (or leg actually) on a cold hardwood floor, have led to a chapped calf and semi-calloused knee. I’ve tried pants- to slippery and the belly issue of course, long socks- saved the calf, but also slippery and still leave that knee wide open… I was beginning to think I needed to resign to grimacing as he shuffled across the floor and just keep on providing a super tender leg massage at the end of the day to repair the damage.

And then… Steph, recommended some Baby Legs, which she’d just bought for Gray. I did some searching and headed over to Urban Baby Runway to buy a pair. They arrived this weekend and are perfect! Hooray for happy knees! So for your viewing pleasure - here’s X rocking his Bones Baby Legs on his new potty!

For nearly 13 months Xavier has been by my side (on my side is probably a more accurate description). And with the exception of the necessities in the NICU I have not left him. At all. With anybody. Not even his Papa (who is, I might mention, a wonderful Papa).

Partially out of philosophy (I just don’t think someone else should watch my child), part necessity (nursing) and a whole lot of desire (why would I want to be without him for a second!) … And I have loved, without reservation, every second.

I spent a lot of my life moving through awkwardness. I was shy, self-conscious, never quite fit in - which was ok because fitting in wasn’t necessarily my style - but I felt strange in my skin none the less. Since becoming a mom, however, I’ve found my purpose. This is my calling. This is what I’m here for. And all at once I have transitioned into this woman who is comfortable in her skin. Confident. Focused. At ease.

And so, since becoming a mother - Xavier’s mother - I have found no desire to ‘take a break’ or have ‘me’ time. This is all I want to do. I have embraced it. We ‘ve centered things around our new family, child-focused and molded the rest of life around. But…

I’m going to start teaching yoga classes within the next month and while I’ll only be away for an hour or two once a week, I started to think it probably wasn’t a good idea to wait until my first class to leave Xavier for the first time…I decided to see if Stephanie would like to go out for her birthday. Just the two of us. Babies at home with our darling husbands. Just her and I for soup and sandwiches and lots of chatting at Panera. Close to home but still away. Did I mention no babies?

So around 5:45 this evening I made the rounds with kisses, said ‘See you later’, and walked down the stairs to the car for the first time in a year - by myself. I felt naked. I felt nervous. I cried pulling out the driveway. But then something wonderful happened. I felt great. Relaxed, peaceful, proud. David and Xavier were going to be fine and I was off to have a great time with my best friend. And we did.

I picked up Steph, we headed to Panera, ordered our meals, placed our cell phones on the table and got lost in good food and great conversation for an hour or so. We trekked over to Target to pick up a few things (did you know they make sleds for babies? Yes, we’re praying for snow) and then we headed back home. To our husbands and babes and boys. A simple night, but wonderful.

I came home to a house still standing. A house happy. Toys all over the place. David and Xavier being silly upstairs, still sparkling from the bath. I shouted I was home, climbed the stairs. As I peeked around the corner Xavier got all kinds of excited - began to crawl towards me and smile. The kind of smile that says “I’m really glad to see you, but it was kind of nice not to see you for a while.” And after some thought I’ve decided that is a wonderful thing.

Sure I missed some things. X learned how to say pig and oink while I was gone. But I gained a lot. I feel refreshed, have a spring in my step I didn’t know I was missing. Bonded with my buddy in a way we haven’t yet, we’re like sisters - separated at birth, but since we’ve met we’ve always spent time together focused on our little one’s. And probably, best of all, my boys spent time together. Just the two of them. Being boys. No girls allowed.

Chapter 1: The Pacifier
Xavier’s always been indifferent about the car. He likes going out and usually doesn’t mind the ride, he just doesn’t like the confinement. Usually not a problem but lately if we combine a sleepy X and an excursion the outcome is unpredictable. Sometimes he’ll coo right to sleep, others he starts to cry. And he’s not a crier but this is the “there is absolutely nothing in the world other than getting me out of this seat that will calm me down” cry, “even if I’m choking and purple”. If David’s driving I ride in back and nurse him in the car seat - problem solved. But if I’m alone, there’s been nothing I can do, I’ve tried EVERYTHING and it just breaks my heart to hear him cry like that…

I’ll start this paragraph by saying I HATE pacifiers (do you see where this is going, yet?) especially when they are referred to as “plugs” and used as such. Xavier had a few nurses in the NICU who were huge fans of pacifiers, I would “accidentally” drop them on the floor or in the trash every chance I got and I think they eventually got the hint. So from there on out no paci’s for my guy. But as I said I was running out of options and so at the age when most mommies are trying to wean their babes off the pacifier I get the bright idea to try to introduce one to mine.

So, we’re grocery shopping and I take a detour to grab a pacifier and a thing to clip it to the car seat strap (who knew there were so many options!) after much debating X and I decided on one highly recommended by someone’s orthodontist, at least that’s what the package said. Next time we head out I explain to Xavier what it is and show him how to use it. He listens well enough and looks kind of excited about things. So I hand it to him. He shrieks with delight, promptly starts tweaking the nipple side with one hand and shoves the handle in his mouth with the other. Ahh, that’s my boy!

Chapter 2: The Pee-Pee’s
Xavier, in his robot tee and fresh diaper, was playing of the floor tonight with his Papa - being all kinds of silly at my feet as I put together some Chick-Un Pot-Pies for dinner. Xavier starts grabbing at his diaper and making a little noise. So we ask if he went pee or if he needs a new diaper and he indicated he does. David goes to change him and he lays down quietly, lifts his legs and helps out beautifully (a big change from the Olympic sport that has become diaper changing in out house). Night goes on, not too much later he does the same thing, I ask, he indicates, happy diaper change. Then bed time rolls around - he stops in the middle of nursing and sits up, to give me the usual delirious smile and giggle I’m certain, but he points to his diaper and excitedly tells me “eeee-eee”. I check and sure enough, fresh and warm. I’m not big on Elimination Communication, but I’ve always taken him to the bathroom with me and I explain what’s going on when I change his diaper and such. Not sure if this means it’s time to invest in a Xavier sized toilet or just keep an eye on things but an evening’s worth of pee has never made a mama so proud.

We had Xavier’s 12 month well check on Thursday. We have a great pediatrician and since we don’t deal with the misery that comes with vaccinations we generally look forward to our visits, and this was no exception. I am happy to report that our ‘little’ boy is above the 75th percentile in growth for full-term 12 month olds.. Our doc loves to call X chubby, fat, plump - you name it, and considering his start we giggle with pride. And as we went though the list of standard developmental/dietary/temperament questions it became apparent that our should-be 9 month old is on track with his chronological age, doing everything a 12 month old should.

The Stats:
Weight: 24 lbs 12 oz
Height: 29 3/4 inches
Head: 19 inches

And the babe can talk! More for my memory than your viewing here’s a list of his words/signs:
Mama
Papa
Dada
Mom
Dog
Oliver (ah-ver)
Hi
Hello
Uh-Oh
Yay
Woah
Grandmama (Ga-mama)
Go
Elephant (Eh-fun)
I love you
Car
Baby
Gray (he loves his best buddy!)
Milk
Drink

Signs:
Hi
Bye
Mom
Happy
Milk
More
All done
Dog
Light
Fan
Up
Help
Hurt
Eat
Drink

I can’t believe it’s here. Officially at 11:51pm my sweet Xavier will be one. While the days have crept, the year has flown by. I had planned to write a long post, and maybe I still will, but right now there is a little boy playing by my toes- telling me stories and giggling away. And so I’m off to the floor to embrace this second before it too flies by.

I am the proudest mama. Grateful this precious soul has been loaned to us, entrusted to my care. Blessed to see how far we’ve come. Hopeful for the days ahead. Blissfully happy in every moment. Happy Birthday Chunk le Funk.

3 short days until the big first B-day, I am amazed (and a bit offended) by the sudden onslaught of people asking just when I plan to stop nursing Xavier. Most have been surprisingly direct and then there are the few, who were formerly ver