Good Eater

I started Caleb on solid foods a little over a week ago.  At this point, I'm only giving them to him once a day, but so far he seems to be a pretty good eater.  Though he's made a few faces (what baby doesn't?), he has eaten everything I've given him and he's made it really easy on me.  He's had sweet potatoes, squash, carrots, bananas, and apples so far.  Of course, bananas were a hit.

He's still not a good sleeper, but at least he's a good eater, so that's something, right?  My Italian grandmother would be proud if she were still with us.

In other news, lifting Caleb has finally done a number on my back.  To be fair to my Caleb, I've had scoliosis for as long as I can remember.  Last week, all the lifting finally caught up with me, and I suffered some of the worst back pain I've ever had.  Good thing we have a chiropractor right across the street!  (We may live in a rural location, but I will surely boast about the few things that are close!)  I've been running to the office for some emergency TLC.  The pain has settled right at the spot where my spine takes an unfortunate curve.

Oh, well.  Caleb is worth the pain, and I keep telling myself that one day he'll be a big, strapping young man who will come running to help me bring in the groceries.  He does like to eat, after all!

Update:  One day after this post, we took Caleb to the doctor, and he weighed in at 19 lbs. 2.5 oz. My sister's kids weren't this weight until close to a year old!  He is also 28 1/2 inches long.  No wonder my back was hurting!

Handsome And Then Some

Warning:  Viewing the following photo may result in swooning, fainting, or feeling lightheaded.  It is recommended that you have smelling salts close by, or a bucket of cold water.  This is especially critical for those females with a delicate constitution.  Viewer discretion is advised.

In all seriousness, may I present our Caleb in all his sweater-vested glory?

For me, there is nothing more handsome on a man or boy than a sweater vest.  Brian has six of them.  (Thankfully, he wears what I buy him.)  As soon as I gave birth to Caleb, I had visions of my husband and son in matching sweater vests.  I couldn't find a plain black one, so I put together this outfit for Caleb's upcoming dedication at church.  I am delighted with it, and I could eat him up.  Be still, my heart!

Caleb: Six Months

Dear Caleb,

How is it that you are half a year old already?  I can scarcely believe it.  You have become so much more than my number one priority.  You have become my constant companion.  The life I lived before I had you seems like another life entirely.  I am a mother in the fullest sense of the word, for you are always in my utmost thoughts.

You are becoming quite a little person!  Daddy is having so much more fun with you now that you are getting bigger.  You like to grab at just about everything, and woe is me if I have not yet put my hair back for the day!  I have forbidden myself from wearing necklaces and long earrings, too!  You are so interactive and you love to laugh, and I think I'm starting to find that you are a little ticklish. Your blue eyes are sure to get great compliments wherever we go, but I never tire of hearing it.

I cherish these days with you, knowing that I am the favorite person in your world.  Countless times a day, I will look at you when in your exersaucer to find you staring at me, when I think you are occupied with some toy.  It brings a smile to my face to see you look for me, even if I'm all the way over at the sink doing dishes.  Someday another woman will replace me, but that is a long, long time away.  For today, I relish being the number one woman in your life.

Tomorrow, you will get your first taste of solid food, and your daddy and I are so excited!  What a milestone in your young life!  But don't worry.  Mama's 24-hour milk stand will still be open for you.

My sweet boy, I can't really describe what you mean to me.  Your daddy and I are head-over-heels in love with you, and while we hate waving goodbye to these early baby months, we are so excited for the future.  For Thanksgiving this year, your very first, you are of course the thing for which we are most grateful.  You are by far the best gift we've received this year- the greatest blessing in our lives. You have given my life an even deeper purpose, and I throw myself into it, wholeheartedly.

I love you, my Caleb-Bear!  You've made this Mama Bear very, very happy!

Love,
Mommy

"He's All Boy"

Before I had a baby, I never missed church, except in the case of travel.  Brian and I were faithfully attending our little church where Brian leads worship.

Then I had Caleb.  Of course I didn't drag him out when he was a wee newborn, but I started bringing him with us when he was beyond those early weeks.  In the beginning, I missed bits of pieces of the service depending on when he needed to eat.  In those days, Caleb spent quite a while nursing. There was one service that he slept peacefully the entire time in his car seat carrier right beside me. Bliss.  Though it was difficult, I could usually experience some of church, at least.

But no baby stays the same size for long.  My little boy began to get bigger, and sitting and holding him on my lap just wasn't happening.  He can tolerate worship for a bit, but then, he just wants to GO!  I have threatened to Brian after climbing into the car, for several weeks in a row, "That's it!  I'm done!  No more church for me!  I don't hear the sermon anyway!"  The truth is, I'd leave church more exhausted from trying to entertain/hold back/keep occupied my dear little boy in one hour of church service than a day by myself at home leaves me.

So this past Sunday, Caleb began showing all the routine signs of "I'm done, mama.  I've had enough" when worship wasn't even over.  I grabbed my tithe, handed it to one of the collectors (Brian is up front during worship), and I took my purse and diaper bag, and out I went.  I went downstairs to the all-purpose room, with no plan, really, except to get out and let these people worship in peace. When I entered the room, there were two sweet older ladies sitting there and watching the service on the television.  (It isn't always on, but it was today, and I thought, "Great!")  When they saw me, one of the sweet ladies commented while watching him ready to jump out of my arms, "You look so small holding him.  He's all boy.  He's got two arms and two legs, and he wants to use them.  So put him down on a blanket and let him go."  So that is what I did!

I felt encouraged with these ladies.  Before we parted, they reminded me that right now, I may be missing out, but it won't last forever.  Right now, this is what he needs, but one day, he'll sit quietly with a book in the pew.  I wasn't so terribly exhausted when I left, and I felt better about the whole thing.  I know that my run-in with those ladies was no mistake, and it was exactly what I needed.

*Note:  Our church is rather small, and we don't have a nursery.  There is a nursery room, but not a specific nursery time for babies.  That's okay by me.  Even if there were nursery workers for Caleb, I feel that he is my responsibility.  That's much the same way I feel about babysitters.  Where I go, Caleb goes.

Sore Arm and Clean Floors

It is no secret that I am a weakling.  I've always been slightly in awe of mothers who are able to carry two, or even three children at once.  My own sister can carry her twins, one in each arm, at the same time, and they are 2 years old.  (Truth be told, my sister was always a lot tougher than I. There were a couple of people who tried to mess with her in middle school, and let's just say she stood up for herself, and they never bothered her again.  Me- I used to let people walk all over me.)

People kept telling me that your muscles develop as your child grows.  Sounds pretty logical to me. Caleb, however, has grown very fast, and my poor arm hasn't had time to keep up.

I have taken to wearing an Ace support bandage at times of terrible soreness, because my arm hurts in three places.  It isn't the muscles.  It's the ligaments.  I might be right-handed, but I am more comfortable carrying my baby in my left arm so that my right arm is free to stir the pot on the stove, or what have you.  While my right arm is of course stronger, he just feels like he belongs in my left arm.  It's always been that way for years, even when holding other people's babies.

So when Caleb is fussy, and I mean, late evening- before bedtime fussy, sometimes the only thing to do is carry him around with me, so he can watch whatever it is I am doing.  It calms him, but unfortunately, my arm has endured the poorer end of the bargain.  I told Brian just last week that I doubt if my arm will ever be the same again.  Just trying to hold my arm straight out brings considerable pain.  

The things we do for our babies.  Caleb has been a fussy sleeper for quite some time.  It didn't start out that way, but it seems that once September hit, he became less and less enamored with sleep. I've tried different tricks, like taking him out in the car, but that isn't always possible.  Lately, the vacuum has seemed to be a calming background sound for him, and it usually, like 99% of the time, causes him to go to sleep.  I hate to waste the electricity, so I do, in fact, vacuum a little bit each time I have it on for him.  Let's just say I have pretty clean floors right now.

I know I recently posted a photo of Caleb in this outfit, but I discovered that these booties that once belonged to my sister's kids, paired delightfully with it.  He looks like my little Christmas elf, though I doubt this outfit will still fit him at Christmas.