Lyndon has started to dress himself...

Project Runway Jr., anyone?

8 months!

First of all, let me just say that I find it hilarious (and completely appropriate) that my last post for two months was the "hey look, Kieran is crawling!" post. Clearly, I have been too busy chasing around a newly mobile baby to post. But today, I have a few moments (at least until somebody wakes up). So.

As of yesterday, Kieran was 8 months old! Yikes!

Since my last post, he has been perfecting his crawling, standing, and pulling-up technique and is now something of a pro. And yesterday, we added cruising to that list. That's right; he successfully cruised halfway around the coffee table in pursuit of Lyndon's sippy cup. I let him have it; I figured he earned it. Don't tell Lyndon.

I took him to the doctor this morning for his first ear infection, and they plopped him on the scale. And my jaw hit the floor.

20 lbs. 3 oz.

At 8 months, he has officially outgrown an infant carseat.

He is so ridiculously curious and jumps headfirst (sometimes literally) into everything. He's the opposite of his petite, cautious older brother in almost every way.

But, the two of them have started to play together anyway. Or, rather, Kieran tries to join in with Lyndon, and from the living room, I hear, "No, Kieran! No have that!"

Lyndon and I have been having long discussions on the topic of sharing. One of the benefits of having a crazy little brother.

proof, part 2: he crawls!

 

I made this video last week, and he's only gotten better since then. He's recently started to try to pull himself up, and if you hold his hands, he will take a step or two. I think I may have an early walker on my hands!

proof, part 1: he sits!

In my last post, I claimed that 6 month-old Kieran is sitting and crawling. I realized that I should post some irrefutable proof of this so I don't get blasted for lying... or maybe just because it's cute. Either way, here he is:

6 months! (Also, teeth.)

Kieran is 6 months old!

And, boy, is he delightful! He smiles and laughs almost constantly, sleeps like a Calvinist, and eats everything I give him. He can play by himself on the floor for 10 or 15 minutes, but he also loves playing with us. Peek-a-boo is a favorite game now. He's sitting. And crawling. He loves being mobile and is so curious about everything. He's pretty much given up his third nap, except on particularly busy days. He's a little snugglebug and will eat up affection with a spoon.

He has two teeth, on the bottom, right in the middle. He had a bit of trouble when they first came in, but a little extra love and a bit of ibuprofen got him through the worst of it, and now he's back to his happy self. You can just barely see them in this picture, but it's the best one I've got.

I took both boys to the library today, and felt, for the first time, like I was traveling with two kids, instead of one kid and one baby. Oy, they grow up so fast.

Welcome to my world.

jury duty update

Desk attendant (male): Do you have your summons?
Me: Yes. I also have a baby.
Desk attendant (male): Um... you can't bring a baby in here.
Me: Well, I got a summons, and, despite a doctor's note saying that he is exclusively breastfed and won't take a bottle, I was told to come in anyway. So here we are.
Desk attendant (male): Uh... hold on one second. (Looks across at his [female] co-worker. They mumble to each other for a few seconds.)
Desk attendant (female): Have a seat in that room over there.
Me: (Gathers things and sits in small, empty room next to reception desk.)

Desk attendant (female): Ms. Peterson?
Me: Yes?
Desk attendant (female): I can give you until October. Will that work?
Me: Well, he won't be a year old until January, but by October, he should at least be eating... other things. So, yes. October.
Desk attendant (female): You'll get your new paperwork in the mail.
Me: Do I need to pay for my parking, or will you validate it anyway?
Desk attendant (female): I'm really not supposed to, but I will, since you shouldn't have been forced to come here anyway. I don't know what my supervisor was thinking.
Me: (beaming) Yeah, me neither. Thank you very much.

And then I left. And that was the end of that. A giant waste of everyone's time (and a little money as well) that nevertheless ended with some respect for a woman's right to raise her children. Nameless female desk attendant, you have restored what little faith I had in local government.

And, I'm sort of sorry that I threw my banana peel on the floor of your parking garage. Sort of.

saying goodbye

Sometimes, you see things coming a mile away. Little by little, you arrive at a place where you have to make a gut-wrenching decision. It's necessary, yet heartbreaking at the same time.

We gave away our cats.

Our relationship with them has been going downhill from the first moment they peed in the house. We accepted responsibility: their litter box had gotten dirty while we were on vacation. But then, we had a baby, and they became a little more destructive. I never knew what would be broken, chewed, or knocked over when I came downstairs in the morning. If they didn't get the attention they wanted, they started yowling at Lyndon's bedroom door while he was asleep. So we started locking them in the garage at night. One peed-on golf club bag later, we bought them a large cage instead. That worked for a while . . . until we had another baby.

The day I had to throw out my Graco stroller was the beginning of the end. They were basically using it as an alternative litter box. Then, I walked in the front door, back from a walk, still POd at them about the stroller, and found a pee spot up the side of my couch.

We listed them that same week (this past Friday, actually): "Free to good home." Within 48 hours, they were gone.

A nice pair of college girls came over Saturday morning, met the cats, loved them, and left to run a few errands, with a promise to come back for them in the afternoon. I spent all Saturday morning celebrating . . . and all Saturday afternoon grieving. Right before they left, I wanted to give Ferrarri one last scratch behind the ears, just to say goodbye, but he was already in his carrier, so I could only fit the tips of my fingers through the bars. He started rubbing his face against my fingers. Through the bars of the carrier. In that moment, I didn't think I could go through with it. I saw the tiny little kittens we brought home over 3 years ago, and I fell apart. I'm pretty sure I'm actually going through all 5 stages of grief over this. It feels like I abandoned my babies.

But then I remind myself that they're not babies. They're cats. And I'm doing this for the sake of my real babies, who will never again have their gear peed on, or be woken by the screech of an irate animal, or be grossed out by their own garage. This is absolutely the best solution for everyone involved. The cats will get more time and attention than we have to spare. The girls will get a pair of loving, devoted pets for their first apartment. And our family will get a little bit of peace.

Until my kids start begging for a puppy. But we've got a few years.

I'm sittin' here I'm 5 months old...

(Kudos to anyone who can identify the song reference in the title above.)

I have noticed that the blog seems to be a little Lyndon-heavy as of late. This is partly because Lyndon is awake for significantly more of the day than Kieran is, and partly because when Kieran is awake, I usually have my hands full. Also, he wasn't particularly photogenic.

Well, the times, they are a-changin'. Kieran is 5 months old, so he needs less and smiles more. So here we go...

 

Aaaaugh! A naked baby!!! (Actually, I'm pretty sure he had a diaper on.)

"Nom nom nom, mmmm fingers!"

Mischevious smile at the beach.

He loves to "fly". If he's in a good mood, pretty much any fast motion will make him scream with laughter.

"Say what?"

The hat was Lyndon's idea.

Concentrating very hard on how to get the toy into the mouth.

Yep, he's a boy all right. I've seen that vacant stare before.

If I only knew what goes on inside that cute little head of his, I'd have better captions for some of these. But who knows what babies are thinking when they make all their crazy faces? All I know is that I love this little guy who's showing so much personality these days.

on parenting and jury duty

When Kieran was almost 2 months old, I was summoned to jury duty. With a doctor's note, I managed to get a postponement, since I was exclusively breastfeeding. I asked to be reprieved until January or February, since I plan on breastfeeding Kieran for at least a year, like I did with Lyndon. We don't do many bottles around here, and Kieran has had a really hard time taking them. So, the government postponed my summons... until June. Bizarre, I know, but I figured I could ask for another postponement when the time came.

Well, I could ask, but I couldn't receive.

That's right; even with a note from the pediatrician, stating that Kieran is breastfed and has had trouble taking a bottle, I am expected to report to the courthouse bright and early on June 11th. I'm considering taking him with me. At the very least, I will be taking my breastpump and written proof that they have to give me a private place to use it. Of course, I'm annoyed at the inconvenience, but, beyond that, I'm pretty disappointed in the way our government is treating me, and moms in general, for that matter.

I'm sure you've heard about that Time Magazine article, entitled "The Mommy Wars". Quite a few people have seen this article as an attempt by mass media to encourage moms to fight amongst themselves, instead of fighting together for bigger causes. Like decent maternity leave. Or respect for motherhood in the workplace. Or . . . you know, our children's education.

It's easier to judge and bicker and backstab each other for our different parenting choices than to try to make some real difference in the world.

I read an article recently outlining the United States' provisions, or rather, lack of provisions, for paid maternity leave. It's pretty embarrassing. From the article:

"Did you know that the United States in one of the only industrialized nations that does not provide a mandatory maternity leave benefit?... 'According to USA Today, 'out of 168 nations in a Harvard University study last year, 163 had some form of paid maternity leave, leaving the United States in the company of Lesotho, Papua New Guinea and Swaziland'."

Yes, the Family Medical Leave Act provides some benefits, but only to those who "qualify" (which is kind of a short list), and nowhere near the kind of provisions necessary to raise a family. The article spells out the specifics, but let's just say it's pretty sad. Mothers are expected to be back at their desks before their babies are breastfeeding successfully or sleeping through the night. Parents are harassed for taking time off to care for sick children. And paternity leave? What's that?

Now, I'm not saying this is all, or even mostly, the government's fault. But when a state government ignores the pleas of a family and a pediatrician and refuses to postpone something like jury duty for more than 3 months so that an infant can be near his only source of food, it is helping to create a culture that devalues children. Raising a family is hard, and parents need as much support as they can get. Instead, we get jury duty and the "mommy wars".

Really, America?

we played in the sprinkler...

... and we got a new camera.

That's right, folks. After many months of beating around the bush, I got me an SLR! It was a gift, and I didn't think I'd use it; I didn't think I'd love it. But I do. Oh, I do.

And speaking of love... Lyndon has fallen in love with the sprinkler.

Sometimes I feel bad, even a little guilty at the (relatively) limited resources we have when it comes to entertaining our kids. Our yard is the size of a postage stamp, and most of it slopes downhill; our house doesn't have a playroom, so we don't have a lot of toys; Lyndon's tricycle was a freebie, and it's a little rusty, and so on. I envy the moonbounces, the finished basements, the pool memberships, thinking how much happier my children would be if they had access to these things.

And then I see the magic that happens when a little boy discovers a sprinkler. A basic, inexpensive gardening tool. And I realize that we have more than enough in the way of entertainment. We have a 2 year-old. We have imagination.

What's more entertaining than that?

Lyndon sings his ABCs

I had a little party when I realized he knows the entire song, then decided I had to record it. Enjoy!

hard

Having a second child is hard.

I know those of you with more than two children are shaking your heads, thinking about just how much harder it can get.

But for me, two has been hard.

It's getting easier, nearly four months in. I'm starting to be able to do some of the things I had set aside. You know, like cleaning bathrooms. Or cleaning... anything. I'm starting to get Kieran on some sort of routine, and I'm figuring out how to multitask enough to keep everyone fed, changed, dressed, and reasonably happy. Sleep deprivation is still a part of my life, but not in the mind-numbing way it once was. I'm starting to blog again. Slowly but surely, I am getting my life back.

But it's a different life.

A life of double strollers and not enough hands and nursing while walking.

I nursed Kieran in the powder room this afternoon, sitting on a little plastic stool, steadying Lyndon as he sat on his potty seat.

I know I'll be overjoyed when my little boys start playing together, when they whisper to each other from their beds at night, but right now, I'm just overwhelmed. I have an infant. And a toddler. I am a mother of two. And it's the hardest thing I've ever done.

"Spash!"

Lyndon stayed with his Nana and Pop-Pop last weekend.

The first afternoon, they walked down to the river.

They collected river rocks...

And Lyndon wore Pop-Pop's hat... backwards...

They went back the next morning. And then things really got interesting...

When I asked Lyndon what he did all weekend, he replied, "Spash!"

Why yes, dear, I believe you did.

Happy Easter (from our family of four)

the promised belly shot

So, I never did get around to taking a belly shot picture past 32 weeks. Oops.

But I got a good one tonight.

Baby on the inside, baby on the outside. Still a belly shot, right?

welcome baby Kieran!

Kieran Peterson, born at 10:13pm on January 3, 2012 at The Birth Center.

9 lbs. exactly, 21 1/2 inches long.

Born 13 minutes after arriving at TBC, after 1 hr. 45 min. of active labor. (It's a fun story; I'll tell it to you sometime.)

Loves nursing, snuggling with his daddy, and being swaddled.