A Busy Buddy

this month at your 6 month checkup
you weighed 19 lbs., 1 ounce
(80% percentile for weight)
your height was 28.25 inches
(91% percentile for height)
your head was in the 51% percentile

Your Visual Stats

you are getting so big and strong...



you are eating real food...
 (homemade by me)!

you just started sitting up this week...

you are so darn curious and grabby...

and you're getting just a tad too smart for your own good ;-) (can someone say 'baby proofing'?)

Last one. Just for cute's sake.

Teething Hurts

A Day Away

Dear Dax,

Your father and I have been married for almost two years. Although we've been together for almost a decade, our true lifetime commitment came on April 18th, 2009. The day we married.

I wish you could have been there. You can tell that you love a good party. You smile so easy; your sense of humor is already so developed. You know when we're being funny. You know when the cats are being weird.

Whenever Daddy gets on one of his soapboxes about this or that or the other, he gets real serious and barotone. His tone turns passionate and he starts to lay down some argument about why this or that or the other is really really stupid or silly or just plain wrong. Whenever he dives into one of these long soliloqueys, you always stop what you are doing to watch him. Your eyes shine and you smile your gummy smile. Daddy can't even finish because when he looks at you it breaks his concentration, and he'll just laugh instead. How can he take himself seriously when you smile at him like that?

Anyway, what was I saying....oh yesss......

Our anniversary.

So.

Your Grandma Deb was just here for 9 whole days. She graciously offered to watch you for one entire night while we stayed at the historical Hotel del Coronado on Coronado Island (she also gifted us quite a bit of the cost of it) to celebrate our two years of matrimony. You'll probably know this hotel well, being that it is in your hometown. (Your childhood will be so much different from mine. There were definitely no expensive resort hotels in North Dakota :-).)

Our room at the Hotel Del Coronado

We love you sweetie, but wowser, it was FUN to get away :-). We enjoyed massages. We went to ENO, the wine bar there and had a couple flights of wine with some flights of cheese and topped off with some flights of chocolate. We then went to the hotel bar there and some guy sang Jack Johnson songs while strumming his guitar. Me and your Dad, we couldn't stop talking. We talked as if we were parched and the conversations quenched our thirst.

Then, we went back to our room and watched an entire movie! The Fighter. What a movie. Unbelievable. We ordered room service and slept in. It was divine. Did I mention the breakfast buffet by the sea? Coffee, eggs, pancakes, bacon, english muffins, watermelon, cantaloupe, orange juice. Sigh.

After breakfast, we scampered home to see you. And Grandma said you did just fine. Phew. We were so proud of you. Thank you for being so awesome on our very first night away from you!

Dax & Grandma Deb in the yard

A Mother's Lament and/or A Spiritual Journey

The words felt like big chunky things stuck in my throat. So when I dislodged them, they fell so hard out of me, they broke a dam. Tears rushed my eys.

"I feel so desperate," my head hung down in the yellow light of the kitchen, "I feel so desperate for time alone." The whispered words raw against the darkness framed in the windows. I could barely look at you.

"I'm running on empty. I feel so out of gas that even when someone takes him. I'm so far below 'E' that it doesn't even change it. I still feel so in need."

The truth made me feel ashamed. 

I went to the bookstore the other day. I used to browse for hours, a kind of lazy meditation. This time I whizzed passed the random sections that used to amuse me, in lieu of what I came for: Reprieve via the Parenting Section. I have no time for languid browsing. Another thought: To mourn this is a waste of time.

The past is the past. It IS a compilation of memory and our feelings about those memories. It no longer exists.

The future is an illusion. F**k the future. I can not sit around waiting for my babies to grow up before I start living again.

I choose to live in The Now.

But how? My spirit is limping.

I imagine myself posting quotes on my mirror (and I'm paraphrasing here because I don't feel like googling these exact quotes so here's my approximations):

"the measure of a man is not how he does during the good times, but how he reacts during the challenging ones"

"think not of all the ways something can not be, but instead think of all the ways that it might be"

"think not that something is a hindrance or a problem, but instead as a challenge."

I do not tack these on my mirror though. Instead

I buy a book called "Buddhism for Mothers of Young Children." I'm thinking (praying) a little spirituality might keep me steady. I read it in the bath. I cancelled all my Real Housewives shows on my DVR. I am looking for the time. I played Pandora all day today and felt better, a soft guitar makes pouring the fresh pureed carrots into the blue ice cube trays seem poetic and light. I try to rearrange my thinking: Every moment is a moment for me.

Dax holds me in The Present. He requires me to be there almost every second. It's exhausting. It's exhilerating. It simply IS. And it IS NOT changing. I've never been in a tough place that I didn't want To Leave. This parenthood thing. This is different. I don't want out. (Obviously).

But...if I am to come out of this thing buoyant and glowing...

How can I stand the standing still? The most precious pain of The Present?

Letter to a Six-Month-Old on His Birthday

And then you turned 6 months old. I ask myself, "How did that happen?" When did you get to be a whole half of a year old?

You give this world such JOY. I can't imagine existence without you. Your smile causes my heart to leap into the air. I feel my eyes light when I look at you.

You and I. We are best friends now. We can crack each other up pretty easy now. When I walk in the room you get this cool sideways smile. I can read you like a book, every sound and movement--I know almost every time exactly what you want or need. Sometimes you're bored, sometimes hungry, sometimes tired, sometimes you simply dropped something and want it back!

I've decided over the last month or so to completely not care about any kind of schedule whatsoever. This gives me sidelong glances at my mom's group, but truly, I feel a lot better about it. You? You don't seem to care at all. You thrive all the same.

I tried, but I simply suck at schedules. I get all bunched up and nervous when we don't hit our intended times and lengths. Then I start to think about it and what to do different, and I stop living the moment, and I start trying to make our lives "look" like something that makes sense, and when it doesn't it gets me crazy.

So I decided not to care at all. I feed you when you're hungry. I try to put you down when you're tired. You fall asleep in all sorts of places, at all sorts of times. And I've decided that I really don't care. I'm happy and you're happy and that's what matters. Accepting that has made a big difference in my mom happiness.

But even though that, you've made big strides in the sleep department this month. You've been sleeping in your crib! Not only that, you've been sleeping on your back. We went cold turkey on that carseat. It's been rocky, I must admit. You're back to waking every 2-3 hours at night. But I don't care (that's a bold-faced lie). I'm over that car seat.

Perhaps though, it's because you're starting to teeth. On April 2nd, just two days before your sixth month bday, we felt the little jagged white tooth peeking out of your gums. I've never been so excited. (Well, when you rolled over, just days shy of your five month birthday, I leaped into the air and shouted, "You did it!")

This month it seems, everything has changed. You are reaching for EVERYTHING. You get the coolest look on your face too, like you are just discovering The. Coolest. Thing. EVER. even if it's a towel or a hanger or a phone. You lunge your body, both hands open, towards it; your eyes wide like Christmas.

You all of the sudden are moving across the entire kitchen floor in your walker. Your favorite motivation to move is...Diego the cat! You LOVE looking at Diego; he is your favorite buddy. If he's in the room, you'll scout so fast. We also got you a bouncer from craigslist and you bounce bounce bounce and grab grab grab all the fun stuff.

It has been weird though, because all of the sudden I can put you down for longer periods of time and you just entertain yourself. I have to admit: it's kind of a relief to be able to do more without needing to scoop you up and soothe you. You can sit all by yourself for an hour or more now--happy as a clam! You laugh and giggle and scream and play. I barely know what to do with myself.

You still love to hang out in the sling though, close to me. In the morning when I make breakfast, I put you in there all groggy and you watch me make the coffee and pour the cereal and cut the fruit. You look up at me and smile, quiet and still as a mouse. In the late afternoons, you still love to nap in there while I jog around and watch some dumb show. It's been a nice balance lately of close carry time and also of independent play time.

The biggest new is: You started solids! I made it to my goal of exclusively breastfeeding you for the first six months. The World Health Organization, the American Academy of Pediatrics, the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists, and many other health organizations recommend exclusive breastfeeding for the first six months. This means no supplementing with formula or juice or food. Their stance is due to the extensive research that reflects that EBF babies are more protected from allergies, obesity, asthma, colds, other illnesses, and diseases such as diabetes and cancer.

It was very hard, but I am glad that we accomplished our goal! Studies show that even though the research is there to support EBF for 6 months, few women in America reach this mark. The percentage hovers around 13%. I just think our society is so fast-paced and women are rushed back into the workplace that they don't have the time or patience or support to do this. I feel very blessed that we were able to give you this gift!

However, I can't tell you how fun it was to watch you on April 4th, your sixth-month birthday, finally use a bib! We fed you mashed bananas for your first food, and you ate like a pro! Your daddy said it was because you're his blood. You ate half a banana. The next day we fed you almost a whole banana and also some rice cereal mixed with breast milk. I am looking forward to your daddy taking over some of the business of feeding you.

Anyway, I know this is long, but it was a big month for you! Right now your Grandma Deb is in town here and she is loving hanging out with you. We went on a hike around Lake Poway today. What did you do? Slept in the sling, attached to your Grandma, like a perfect angel baby!

You are such an easy-going little fellow. We love your easy smile. Your loud screams and grunts (you really are a loud buggar), and your perchance to crack yourself up without any prompting. You just look at things and laugh!

I must close this. I could go on forever. I love you Dax. So very very much. I wish I could bottle up all these lucid moments of joy. They are so frequent.

Little Girls Too

So, my sister is pregnant. She has one little beautiful girl who is two years old--a spunky little perfect soul named Nova. We just found out recently that she is building another little baby girl in her belly--another perfect little pretty soul as yet unnamed.

I have to admit, I'm feeling a little baby frenzied. I am attracted to the dream of family. For the majority of my life, I've wanted a big family. In my 6th grade autobiography, I dedicated an entire page to my future five children. Of course, I do not want five children. But I often think I want a solid three.

I went through a period of time in my teens and early twenties where I wanted no kids. This probably spurred by my fear of anything resembling commitment, as opposed to my real life thoughts. My real life thoughts love the dream of family. I feel like since Dax has been born, I've ran headlong into "PURPOSE." A Purposeful Life. It's clear, for the time being, what I'm supposed to be doing.

And now my sister's little girl baby makes me twinge with jealousy. I love my little boy, but the dreams of the little frills of a girl tug my heartstrings.

It just gets silly worse when, here I am, planning her baby shower and perusing pink invites and, oh my golly gosh, aren't these so friggin' dainty cute???

from paperculture.com

(PS Try Paper Culture- You'll love it! Get $5 off your first purchase with code: ECOMOD)

Or this....

from shutterfly.com

Or how bout THIS?

from tinyprints.com

Just Because

My husband bought me flowers yesterday. Just because. Just because I watched the little guy while he was away for work. Just because it made me tired. Just because it made me weak. Just because he thinks I'm cute and just because he thinks I'm worth it.

I received them the day after I wrote that post. The one a couple posts down where I am peeling apart at the seams. The one where I am cycling through the low part of the bipolar extremes of momhood.

I am so grateful that the man that gave me flowers is the man that will be the role model for my little man. I am hoping my little man will look at my big man and learn How to Be a Man. Which includes such topics as: How To Treat a Woman. Or How to Express Your Love. Or How to Love, In General.

I hope from his father he will learn that A Man Should be Madly in Love with His Chosen One. And that he should tell her often. And telling her often in no way diminishes His Manhood. It only makes him stronger. More of a man. I hope he learns never to be afraid to say how he feels. There's power and courage in that.

I hope he learns how to be Tender. Kind. Gentle. Strong. I hope he learns how to cuddle. How to hug. How to giggle. Play. Joke. Jest.

I hope he learns How To Be Open. Vulnerable. How to Let Go. How to, most importantly, Be Himself. So He Can Be Free.

I hope he learns that compromise is key. That listening is paramount. That wanting the other person to be happy is sometimes bigger than the self. And that is The Secret. That IS Love in Action.

I hope he also learns when to Speak Your Mind. Say Your Peace. To Not Be Afraid to do so. I hope he can do so with the Belief that he will Be Heard. And that belief will give him The Power to Be Calm.

For all these things, I am grateful that Dave is his father. Because that alone gives him a leg up on These Important Things.

As a woman I am grateful that I see these things in my husband. That I chose these things. That I respect them in him. And I pray that I can foster the same Values, Principles, Integrity in my son that I adore in my husband.

I hope my son becomes the kind of man that buys flowers for his wife....

Just Because.

Into the Desert

So last week we went to Arizona. I used to live there. Before San Diego. I met my husband there. My father lives there. My stepfamily lives there. I graduated college there.

I lived a lot of life there. Twelve years. A decade plus two years.

I thought I didn't miss her, the chalky desert sun. But I do. My bare arms and bare legs and bare toes do. It felt divine to feel her warm hug again. You know how it feels like spring here? It feels like summer there. I am the type of girl who loves summer too.

We stayed with my Dad and my stepmom and stepbrother in Phoenix, and because they were such awesome babysitters, I felt kind of free and unhinged. Everyday I met with this friend or that. I had long lunches with Kasey and Adralyn and a crew of others and also one of my oldest besties Beth. This is her cuddling the little guy before we went out baby-free for the afternoon.

On St. Paddy's Day, my very Irish stepfam threw a nice little gathering in the backyard...

On Saturday, Dave & I went to the wedding we came for. Weddings are so lovely. I love them because they are kind of the party place for us 30 somethings. Because when you are in high school, you hide in corn fields and people's basements. When you are in college you go to house parties. Then you graduate naturally into bars. And then you all fall in love and the only place you meet to get wasted anymore is weddings.

So I love them. Because people feel goofy. And I love love too. I've always loved love, and weddings are all about that, so I love them too. Especially when you think the two getting married are great for each other because it makes me feel good about life. When they are not so good, I still don't care, because I still appreciate a decent party anyway.

I wish I would have taken a picture of my dress because I, errr....I mean the dress was smokin' hot. But I didn't. So here's a picture of me in my first pair of skinny jeans. The name of them are "Darcy" so I knew I should get them even though I'm kind of hippy in the hip area and have avoided them forever. Beth said to me, "Leave it up to you Darc, you get your first pair of skinny jeans AFTER you have a baby." And that made me feel good.

Anyways, the wedding was full of old friends. It was also at a castle and the bride is all Russian, so much so that the speeches were translated, and our friend the groom is half black and half white, so the mix of people was so fun and random. They even had a shot guy walking around with "Vodka or Hennessey?" Classic.

On Sunday, before we departed, Dave and I felt close and happy and relaxed. He put his hand on my leg in the dark and said with so much feeling that he was so blessed to have me and that it made him feel less alone. In the plane in the night we cuddled close and quiet, with my legs draping his lap, and with our baby sleeping in my arms. We looked into the navy night from our little round window and felt ok. Like love and the little things mattered. Our soft sighs drifted into the sky like goodnight prayers: Keep it light, God, keep it light.

Sigh. Parenthood. And Tears Too.

I feel like we're hitting a wall lately. I totally felt like we were kind of getting everything under control, but the last few days I feel like Dax has regressed so much in the sleep department. I can barely get 10 minutes to myself. At night, he wakes up like a newborn. What is going on?

We did go cold turkey on the car seat, but I really did feel like he was ready for that. Now, today, I am not so sure. He is waking up right now in his crib. You know, from his 10 minute nap. He must be all sorts of rested. Ugh.

Days like today I feel like parenthood blows. I am so tired I want to ram my face into a wall.

For the last couple months, I have been nursing him to sleep and then putting him down. It's been wonderful, fantastic, and easy. However, lately I feel like he is waking up between every sleep cycle to nurse back down. I can't keep doing this. I am going crazy.

Here's me trying to count my blessings: Dax is healthy and adorable and I love my husband and am happy I can stay home and my family is so good to us too. I heart San Diego.

Anyone have any perspective to offer me? I feel thisclose to tears...

When does this get easier? Ever? Never? Does everyone go through this? I am mad at myself for feeling so out of control blah today.

The End. Ugh.

Co-sleeping and Guest Posting

Hi all!

I am in Phoenix going to a friend's wedding. Until I get back with all the fun pics from my old stomping ground, check out my guest post on co-sleeping at The Eco Chic.

Talk to you soon,
Darcy

You Make Me Feel So Good

There's an ingredient in Spring that makes me happy. Light. Airy. Alive.

I felt my being bursting at the seams today. The soul pushes like a smile against the skin. This Is Living. 

I love this town. This house. This yard. This sun. 

I don't believe anymore

that old band, those dreaded warriors, The Grateful Dead Who Said,

"When life looks like easy street, 

there is danger at your door."

INTERMISSION and 

You Spring,

You pop the top off my emotional bag of bones.

Let them breathe. Release their dark chill.

There's no need to be all crunched up and alone, 

I feel like running. l feel like living. I feel like pulling chairs up next to breezy lakes with cold beers and barbecues and shorts and smiles--mine and yours all mixed up in the laughter. The circle is a blur of teeth and words. Why did I ever spend so much time thinking?

I am a silhouette of skin; a flesh-colored palette of blushes and rouge; I am Just Matter. 

Spring you please me so...

Unsolicited Advice is Not Always Criticism, A Revision

I wrote a post about a week ago called Unsolicited Advice Sounds Like Criticism.

And then I got to thinking.

I think I was wrong.

Not ALL of it. But still, I feel the need to CLARIFY things.

I know this because a handful of my family, poor blokes, have now taken to preemptively apologizing to me before saying anything that mildly sounds like directives or advice or food-for-thought. Even a few blogger friends tongue-in-cheek said, "I hope I don't do that. If I do, I'm sorry." And just the fact that all these loved ones said this to me makes me want to punch myself in the face.

Mostly, I don't ever mean YOU, dear reader. YOU can do no wrong. Don't YOU stop saying whatever the hell you want to me. If I can't put on my big girl pants and slough off any advice that rubs me wrong, then I shouldn't be here. I want to hear what YOU have to say ALL THE TIME. I am pretty sure I can live off of blog comments alone, so whether I agree or disagree, your words are absolutely necessary to my emotional survival.

Secondly, I think (decent) moms & dads have a god-given right to boss you around until you die. They were in charge of making sure you brushed your teeth & did your homework & making sure you didn't turn into an asshole. It's pure habit that they continue to verbally vomit all their preferred ways to do things well into your golden age. Give them a break. They are the key reason you survived.

ANYWAY, after I wrote that post a week ago and then heard the feedback from loved ones, I just kept getting all challenged in my brain, and I started categorize things and analyze things and things got a little crazy and then I came up with this:

When Unsolicited Advice is Good and When it is Bad, Six Rules to Consider to Drive Proper Delivery: 

1)  GUIDANCE is often categorized as unsolicited advice, however it is NOT criticism. Sometimes (frequently) people NEED guidance. It is OK to provide guidance to friends and family members and of course, blogger friends. When people truly are struggling, they might need other people to say little nuggets of wonder that set them back on track. Humans need this from other humans. Crave it. Desire it for survival.

Parents are amazing at this delicate little dance. Whenever I'm off my kilter or too stressed out or obsessing about some bullshit thing, my mom might say, "Honey, take a breath. Are you doing your yoga? What about relaxing with a book and a bath? Center yourself." Is this unsolicited advice? Sure. However, I wouldn't say it's criticism. I would cry if I didn't hear these kind reminders from my mommy to 'go back into zen dear.'

2) GUIDANCE is most readily accepted from a person's immediate family or good friends i.e. people you really really like or admire. It IS possible to provide guidance to strangers, however, do so at your own risk. Have you ever met that casual acquaintance who thinks you should go do martial arts to get out your frustrations? Well, a family member would know you better: You f'ing hate karate.

What about that random party stranger who advises you to go to grad school? Um, yeah, thanks but no thanks, I'm done with school. Now stop wasting air. There are some strangers/coworkers/random people in the grocery store line that LOVE to guide the lives of others i.e. project their own desires unto strangers. Don't be that douche.

3) Random Product Recommendations are Probably Totally Cool. 
This is probably the most harmless form of unsolicited advice, and it certainly is not criticism. I knew I had to add this one when my sister said the other day on the phone, "Not trying to advise you or anything, but you might think about getting this bouncer for Dax." She obviously was worried I might confuse her unsolicited advice for criticism per reading my scathing blog. UGH. I felt so bad.

Imagine if we didn't hear what products other people dug or liked or loved or hated?! We couldn't function. There's too many products/books/shops/hotels/etc./etc./etc. out there and we must trust other humans to give us the heads-up! Who cares if their advice is unsolicited! To be honest, I might not purchase that bouncer for Dax (love ya sis ;-)), but guess what? I did take her recommendation on a glider and a bumbo and belly band and countless other things throughout our years. The fact is: No one really gets offended if you don't go out and buy that book they think is fantastic. But when these recommends DO strike chords? GREAT! If they don't, does anybody care? 

4) Constructive Criticism is Food for the Soul.
Sometimes criticism SHOULD be welcomed and taken positively--this is what's called constructive criticism. For example, the other day I was feeling a little weird and queasy about something blog-related, like what I write about or vote solicitation or something bloggy like that and Dave said, "Babe, you gotta get over that. You just gotta keep putting yourself out there and not worry about what other people think."

Was it unsolicited? Yes. Was it advice? Yes. Was it criticism? Perhaps. But it was CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM. In fact, it was EXACTLY what I needed to hear. Be the human that can distinguish between constructive criticism and plain-old-mean criticism. Dump the mean stuff. THEN, set your ego aside and TAKE the constructive criticism and USE IT. Your life will change for the better, I promise you.

5) Sometimes people NEED/DESERVE criticism.
Is someone in your life abusing drugs, beating their wife, drinking & driving, letting their dogs bark all night long in their yard & upsetting the neighborhood, torturing animals, or in some other way doing something awful and selfish and dangerous that is hurting you or could potentially hurt others? Then I personally think it's totally acceptable to say things like: "Dear loved one: Drugs are sucking the life out of you and I'm worried." Or to the neighbor who's dogs are barking: "Shut those dogs up." Or to your friend, "Don't drink and drive you jerk."

I don't subscribe to the "Stay out of it" mentality when a person or loved one or random stranger is being awful. I hope to God that if I saw someone hit their kid in a Target aisle that I would have the nads to say, "HEY! Stop that, I'm calling security." Sometimes I think we ALL need to grow a pair. So in this case unsolicited advice IS criticism. Well-warranted, Absolutely Necessary, Criticism.

6) Unsolicited Advice Sounds Like Criticism When It IS Criticism. Now THIS is the advice that is criticism that sucks that I was talking about in my previous post. This is the advice that I do not like. That nobody likes. That we should all try NOT TO DO. Here goes....

Before the delivery of said advice, ask yourself, what are your motives? Sometimes when we deliver unsolicited advice, it truly is NOT in the spirit of help. If we are honest with ourselves, we truly are using the advice as a thinly veiled criticism. We truly think what the other person is doing is retarded, and we'd kinda like to let them know.

For example, "Why would you sleep with your baby in your bed? Put that baby in his crib!" THAT is not advice. THAT is a direct criticism. What they are doing is not wrong and they like it and they are not hurting anything or anybody. However, YOU think it's totally dumb and you would never ever do that oh my god and you can't believe they are doing it and you just don't understand. So the origin of your "advice" is not from a pure place. This never ends well, and almost always offends the person it's been directed at. They might retort with, "Why don't YOU sleep next to your baby!?" This vicious game of "I'm better than you" sucks. 

Whenever you feel the need to do this. Stop yourself. Remind yourself that there are many ways to do things. REMEMBER: I'm ok, you're ok. 

THE BOTTOM LINE IS: The Unsolicited Advice I don't like at all and wrote about in my previous post was the Unsolicited Advice I speak of in #2 and #6. So um yeah, don't do these. You can do the other four categories. Which means, according to my complex diagram of the goods and bads of unsolicited advice, only 1/3 of all unsolicited advice sucks. Keep that in mind. And this advice from me falls into category #2, so is therefore Totally Cool. 

What are YOUR thoughts?

totally random pic

Letter to a Five-Month-Old After His Birthday Weekend

Who are you little angel? You are the light in my eyes... 

What is there to say 'cept how much I adore you? You have gotten so incredibly cool and fun this month. You've got a killer sense of humor. And that smile. O.M.G. that smile! What a charmer.

I take you everywhere now. You love to be planted against my chest in your carrier. I walk you to get coffee and to the bookstore and around the neighborhood sometimes. Daddy & I have decided to wait on a new car. My little purple pickup (Roxy) is still in pretty stellar condition, but it's illegal to cart you around in there. So we walk. Our frugalness is your gain.

This weekend your Grandpa Dan and Uncle Dalton visited from Alaska. They mush dogs, and they always talk about how they are going to get you running your own one- dog team when you're four. We get to visit Alaska this coming Christmas; you're going to love it. It's so big and beautiful and vast.

Your Grandpa Dan was so cute with you. When you were tired, he would pick you up and sing you a little ditty and you would fall right back asleep on his shoulder. He'd lean back into the couch then and just sit with you while he watched T.V. Or in the car when you were screaming and Dave told him there was nothing we could do because of the laws, your Grandpa Dan, upset about your tears, said 'Oh who cares about the laws!' and he unbuckled you right there. Against his chest, you quieted down immediately and fell fast asleep.

with Grandpa Dan & Uncle Dalton

your Uncle Dalton can always make you laugh

We even took you golfing on your birthday. We live right near one that weaves through the neighborhood, so I hooked you into the carrier and topped your little head off with a sunhat and off we went. The boys were pretty awful awesome golfers, and we had a great time in the atmosphere here--it's unbelievably gorgeous here in your hometown kid. You slept the entire golf game of three hours! I think you loved the motion of our little golf cart and the fresh air.

golfing in the Ergo carrier with sunhat

The next day we took you down to San Diego harbor where your Daddy carted you around against his chest as we checked out the Midway--the old Navy ship docked there. There was a sailboat race that we watched from the top deck where the fighter jets are parked. Guess what you did? You slept. Did I mention how awesome you are?

Dax & Daddy & Uncle Dalton & Uncle Cole & Grandpa Dan with jet p.s. i need a girl next for sure

You're so big too buddy. We took you to your check-up this month on February 9th. You weighed almost 18 pounds and clocked in at 28 inches!!! You are 91st percentile for weight, 99th percentile for height, and 44th for head! Doc said that you're off the charts for height. Daddy of course hopes that means that the NBA is in your future. I think he's trying to brainwash you with all the NBA Live he plays.

We gave you your first vaccines too. I waited, just to make sure you were nice & chunky before they stuck you. The Doc wasn't too impressed, but I stuck to my guns and you didn't get all of them either. I'm not afraid of you developing any disabilities, but I am just nervous about them filling you with too many at once. It just doesn't seem natural, and who know what it does to your sensitive biology at such a young age. I try to just go with my gut when parenting you.

You've made big strides in the sleep department darling. We no longer have to stroll you to sleep. We no longer have to be in the room while you nap either. This is much more freedom for me! I can now nurse you down and you'll take a nice nap all by yourself. You're kind of a catnapper, but seriously, I feel like a supermom with the alone time I have.

You still love your carseat (it's now in your crib erg!). We've tilted it back more and shored it up so that you're more supine that before, but I am just hoping and praying we can get rid of it altogether this month. We tried last night and today to put you down flat for sleep and naps, and no matter how many times we tried, you woke up within five minutes. It's very frustrating. But we'll get there baby Dax, I think this month is it!

 love you so much little guy I can't even begin to describe to you the overwhelming love I have for you. You are the Coolest Thing EVER. Everything you do is the Cutest Thing I've Ever Seen. Parenthood is so much more gratifying that I could have imagined (and harder too). I love every day with you. Thank you for choosing us as your parents. We pray that we can always be exactly what you need.

modeling my fave cloth diaper & a vintage onesie your father used to wear when he was a baby!

father & son

Three Reasons to Love Cloth Diapers

The Jitters

We have visitors flying in today. Dax will meet his Grandpa Dan and his Uncle Dalton. I am all sorts of excited about our weekend. I have to leave to the airport soon.

BUT WHY, why do I get all nervous and weird and jittery right before the people actually get here? I always want the house to be perfect and the plans to be made and I also want us all to just go with the flow.

I get all up in arms and bossy too, like there's so much to do. I have no mechanism for stress. Dave told me last night "to not care so much."

And he's right. Why am I such a perfectionist? 

I think it's my mother's fault. She always kept such a nice house.

Oh no. I just realized Dax is going to blame me for all sorts of things.

I'm actually really messy, so I think I like to spend the extra time to appear tidy. Making myself not look like me is draining. But necessary. Being dirty is gross.