Baby Life and Love

Cal,
My little Superbaby. They say time goes by fast, but your first year of life has gone by faster than a speeding bullet (yay for me making a Superman reference). Try as I might, I can't keep up with you (this includes blogging, the rate at which you can destroy the house, and your ridiculous sleep schedule or lack thereof). These posts used to be about milestones at certain points along the way, but because of life as a party of 5, this is more about what makes you unique. Just like our friend Clark Kent, you are disguised as a regular man/baby, but really have the power to make us love you more with each passing day! Next up: bending steel with your bare hands.


So I gotta ask...what's with this whole liking-dad-more-than-me thing? I wish I could say I didn't mind, but with all these middle of the night nursing sessions and that whole pregnancy and childbirth song and dance, I thought I was a shoe in. Alas, you are a dude's dude. Dad loves it, but I'm hoping I make a comeback soon. I'll always have my Stage 5 clinger.


As I told your pediatrician, you're our first place eater and last place sleeper. It's great that you are always up for a meal, have never turned down breastmilk from the tap, and use your pincher grasp like a pro to feed yourself. It makes mealtimes fun.


HOWEVER, I truly feel like the last 11 months are a blur partially because there have close to zero nights where we didn't wake 3 or 4 or 5 times a night to feed and comfort you. It's funny because it's changed our perspective. When you sleep from midnight to five, we think that's good. Whereas with your sisters we would have considered that a horrible night. Well played, son. As you approach one year, we've taken to feeding you every time you wake up in some bass ackwards turn of events, but at this point we are out of cares to give. Don't let the picture below fool you....you'll be up again in two hours!


Baby smells are the best (well, most of them) and you have your very own scent. I've used different lotions on each of my babies' butts and my choice for you is Burt's Bee's Natural Lotion. This way, no matter how old you got, I can always remind myself of when I used to pull your chubby little body out of the bath and wrapping you up in a towel to snuggle.


You love bath time. It's a great stall tactic for when you're tired but we're not ready to put you to bed. It's also a necessity after you eat. The warm water calms you down and you are always trying to eat the washcloth. Plus, we get the best giggles from you in the tub.

You also love crawling underneath things. This is definitely unique to you as I don't ever remember any baby I've met constantly wanting to take shelter. Exhibits a, b, and c.


You love when we put you on our shoulders. It means you can commence playing the bongos on our heads and pulling our hair out, since we don't get enough of that because of your sisters.

You should be in a toothpaste or a denture commercial you have so many teeth. Not sure if it was a blessing or a curse, but they all came in at once. I say you're ready for steak!


I know this may come as a surprise, but Howie doesn't trust you. Call it puppy intuition, but if I even place you near him when he's lying down on the couch, he'll get up and walk away, just far enough to be out of reach of your grasp. I do this multiple times, and the dog is not mad about it, but he just knowsw you'll probably grab on and not let go. On the plus side, he does think you're capable of playing fetch with him despite the fact you keep putting the ball in your own mouth.


He may not trust you, but he does count on you for dropping food, and also takes advantage of your weak grip. Case in point:


We experienced our first trip to Village Inn where you sat in a highchair at about 7 months. This is the place we take all our minions when they can finally sit so we can eat breakfast without holding you. You were a natural at stacking jellies. I think the sign in the background here is speaking to me.


Sadly, you spent the entire month of February sick with bronchiolitis. It involved a visit to the ER, a persistent cough and you refusing to eat or drink much. Someday if and when you're a dad, you will understand how hard this is. To watch your son or daughter's personality disappear because they don't feel good is all-encompassing heartbreak. That said, it makes a mom and dad that much more grateful for health and happiness when it returns and I have been so happy to have you back this past month.


Everyone comments what a HAPPY baby we have. Not sure what we're doing right, but we're doing something right!


We really do try to read to you, but you're not one to sit and listen to a book. (MUST. EAT. PAGES.) This is another thing that sets you apart from your sisters, but we'll get there!


You/We survived your first 9 hour car trip to Memphis, and back. I cannot tell you how many times we had to stop as I lost count by St. Louis. Not that I'll hold it against you, but I had totally planned on doing a carpool karaoke to "Walkin in Memphis" and now I'll probably never go viral. Next time we fly!



The holidays with you were fun, well except for NYE. Every party needs a pooper, and you were definitely it!



Don't let the picture fool you, holding your own bottle simply does not interest you. How will you run your fingers through your hair if your hands are occupied? Just another way we spoil you rotten.


Naps? Ha! You have no schedule and you certainly #aintdoinit in your crib. Your friend Violet was visiting for one overnight and napped longer in your crib than you EVER have. I like to think you were being chivalrous by letting her sleep there while you slept in our arms, but I doubt it.


You don't like being put down which works well because your sister wants to hold you all the time, too. And Gabby would if she could, but her role in the house is comedienne extraordinaire.


You were dedicated in the church while wearing the outfit Dad wore for his baptism 34 years ago. It was a special day we won't soon forget. Here's what I wrote about it: Dedication/christening/baptism...call it what you will. Today we committed to raising Calvin to know Jesus. While that may conjure different thoughts for different people, for us it means teaching him to forgive, to be humble, to live joyfully and to love much. We are beyond grateful for the family that is here to help us do that today and always. Please know how much your presence and love mean to us and our little boy. Thank you God for this truly great gift!


Bad news: You're a righty. Oh well, maybe Howie was my lefty...

Last but not least: thank you. Every day you bring joy to our lives. There hasn't been 1 day in the past 11 months that you haven't made me smile, or laugh, or need some coffee, but I digress. This video is a great note to end on.


Cal at 3/4/5 months



Oh Calvin,
I'm sorry you've officially been diagnosed with Third Child Syndrome. I started this post the day you turned three months and am finally finishing it just as you are about to turn 5 months. Please know that this doesn't mean I love you any less than your sisters. In fact, I probably cherish your baby-ness the most just because you're my last hurrah. So apologies in advance if you turn out to be a spoiled brat. My bad. Give your therapist my regards. 

In all seriousness, here's a peek at what you were like from 3-5 months.

You giggle! (Mom's bug eyes, potty humor, neck nuzzles and Dad's arsenal of weird noises all do the trick.)


You roll, when you feel like it. In order to officially check this off the list, we laid you on your tummy on a slight hill and very carefully watched as gravity worked it's magic. Because I'm your mom, I get to call that rolling over. 

You drink. At 3 months, you took 4 ounces, at 4 months you took 5 ounces and we are getting ready to move you up to 6 ounce bottles here soon.

You were in a co-dependent relationship with your swaddle. You cried in your room for a few days after the breakup, but seem to be moving on now. 


You think you're 4'11. This is because you love nothing more than riding in the Bjorn with dad. 


You pull hair. Not sure if you're jealous of your sisters or just practicing your defense mechanisms for later in life. 

You pee in the tub. Every. single. time. 

You drool. A lot. And I think it's adorable. 

You have blue eyes, and I think they are going to stay that way. It's the first thing everyone notices about you and compliments. Your reaction is a constant state of surprise.


You travel. We don't have the luxury of sitting at home and doting over your every breath, so you've been to football games, soccer games, baseball games, volleyball games, two plays, and a dance recital. 


You nurse. Every three hours during the day. It's our time and I love it. (Calm down, Rob. It's just a boob and nothing a swimsuit wouldn't reveal! Also you're the only male other than my dad who reads this blog!)


You cry. Real tears. This is obvious since you are an infant, but just didn't want you to think you were perfect. 


You (THANK GOD) take a pacifier. We keep approximately 14 on hand and manage to lose them all occasionally. We go buy more and then find at least three on the way home from the store.

You (despite early predictions) have not gotten kicked out of daycare. You did however receive a few "cried excessively" grades. But you're learning to love it there since they take such good care of you. 


You make a beautiful woman...on Snapchat. Sorry.


You "Run the Show" around here. Don't make that "Who, Me?" face!


You literally have no idea what we're saying. 


You are a mama's boy.


And a daddy's dude.


And a chatterbox! 


You are no match for the stroller. Gets you every time.


You take after your older brother.


And last but not least, you are loved beyond measure! Never forget it!


Siete




Dear Faith,
You're officially seven-years-old and ready to hand down your "I'm 6" shirt!


This year went by fast. The school years seem to speed up time, and 1st grade was a blur for me. In addition to first grade, you celebrated many other "firsts" this year.

First training wheel-less bike ride.


You can thank dad for this. I was very pregnant and not able to run alongside you but I'm pretty sure I probably would have never let go of the seat had I been responsible for teaching you. You've since gone on several rides and only had one bad spill. Dad is good about making sure you get right back in the saddle, literally, after a fall.

First (and second) lost tooth:


The dentist had to pull both of your bottom baby teeth since your adult tooth was growing in behind it. As excited as you were to have them pulled and FINALLY receive a visit from the tooth fairy, you were terrified at the sight of your own blood after he pulled them out. But it was all worth it for the two $2 bills underneath your pillow the next morning.

First time selling girl scout cookies:


For the record it was mine, too. Dad says I deserve a badge for going door to door with you and helping you with marketing via Facebook, but the vest is a little small on me. I was never a girl scout, but it's brought out the best in you. The older girls are such good role models and you all raise each other up. This literally happened at your Brownie bridging ceremony at the roller rink where you fell down approximately 437 times. By the end, with the encouragement of your friends, you were able to stay up for at least 15-20 seconds, which believe it or not was a big improvement.

First trip to the Ozarks:


First trip to Disney:


First trip down the stairs (ya can't win em all):


First hit in machine pitch softball. Excuse the excessive "wooos" from yours truly. Just a proud mama.



First (and hopefully last) piercing:


Because you won our bet that you wouldn't lose a tooth by the end of the school year (technically they were pulled) we went to get your ears pierced. Unfortunately they couldn't pierce them at the same time, so we almost had to leave with one ear pierced. I was surprised how afraid you were of the pain, but you still did it. Unfortunately (again) one of the earrings fell out on the way home and dad, aunt Kris and I were each unable to re-pierce it. Trust me, we tried. I don't think I've ever heard you scream that loud. Three weeks later we went back and got it re-pierced. And now, you match!

First plane ride: You are totally fake sleeping here.


First missed school day: No pic since you were puking into a bucket, but it put an end to your perfect attendance record. :(

First birthday party not at home:


I was not prepared for the craziness that is the Amazing Pizza Machine, but you had the time of your life. You told anyone who would listen that it was your birthday, and invoked your "birthday girl" privileges early and often throughout the day. I hope you always love this day as much as I do, because it's the anniversary of my becoming a mom.

For every sign that you're growing up, there's a sign that you're still a kid. The other day you asked if Santa will still deliver presents at college. (Awwwww!) You don't know this yet, but you'll be a different person by then. You'll no longer believe in the things you do now, and probably think dad's a nerd and I'm an overprotective worrywart who needs to chill out. It brings tears to my eyes to think about how much you'll change in the next seven-10 years. While I know that it's for the best (we don't want the equivalent of a seven-year-old starting high school) but as Leanne Womack's song said it best: I hope you never lose your sense of wonder.

Never be ashamed to be amazed at how great life can be. Family. Friendships. Fun Times. Relish in it. Continue to see the bright side of life like you do so well know. Just be you. Because I love YOU so much. Happy 7th Birthday babe!