Fiona Rose: A Birth Story

A few weeks before Fiona was due, we decided to be induced the week of her due date. We were a little nervous about how big she'd be, since Ronan was 10 lbs 3 oz. And by "we" I mean me and the doctor who kept telling me I was gaining too much weight and if my baby got too big, I'd have to have a C-section.

So the inducement date was set for August 14th, a day before her due date. I had been dilating for a few weeks and she was in the ready position, so all things were going well. We dropped Ronan off at Papa's house (a dream come true for both of them, I'm sure), and were the first ones to the hospital that morning. They gave us the nicest room in the place! Our nurse, Ginger, told us they called it, "The Disco Room." Sweet! We were gonna have a baby in the party room of the hospital.

Something that did not feel like a party was getting my IV in, and getting the epidural done. It took them three sticks to get it right and one of the veins in my hand blew. That would end up hurting for a week. They told me I have legit crap veins. Believe me, docs, I know. I've had 'em my whole life. Every time I get my blood drawn I say a small prayer in my heart that they'll magically find a good vein the first time.

Anyway, I digress. My epidural probably wouldn't have been so painful if I hadn't made a crucial mistake. The doctor was listening to my direction when I told him my left side hurt when the needle was going in. But it just seemed to make things worse. So he found a new spot and everything was okay. Except poor Tim's face was white as a sheet. The doctors asked if he was alright. "I don't like seeing her in pain," he said. They ordered him to go get breakfast before he passed out. I told him I was fine now and I'd see him when he was done.

I kept the nurse up to date on my progress, saying my left leg was nice and numb, but my right was not at all. She tipped me to the left saying it would help. It didn't. My left leg got number and more tingly while my right still felt everything. I began to feel nervous that the doc would have to come back and move the needle. Then, she did a "do you feel this" test. She put a wet pad on my left leg. "Do you feel this?" "No," I said, "My left leg is still numb." She looked at me weird. "This is your right leg."

I slapped my hand to my forehead and laughed. No WONDER the epidural hurt! He was moving the needle to the opposite direction that I wanted because I was mixing up my left and right. I felt like the biggest dummy of all time.

Things started to even out after that and Nurse Ginger laid the bed down so the medicine could flow. Suddenly, I felt very heavy and sick. Things started going dark fast. "I don't feel so good," I said out loud. Nurse Ginger immediately was at my side, asking all sorts of questions about what was feeling not so good. "I think I'm going to puke," I said. "No, I think I'm going to pass out." Things started going darker. "Yep. Here I go." Before things went completely black, she grabbed an oxygen mask and put it over my nose and mouth and told me to breath deep and slow. "You're going to be just fine, your blood pressure is a little low so you need to just keep breathing in and out. Everything's okay, no need to worry. Just keep breathing." But I was worried about the baby. "Is she alright?" I asked. "Is her heart rate okay?" "Yes," Nurse Ginger answered. "She is doing perfectly fine. You just focus on you right now." So I sat there and breathed for a while, wondering when Tim would be back from the cafeteria.

My body bounced back after a bit and Tim returned when I was feeling okay again. Dr. Smith came in to say hello and broke my water. And that's when I found out why I'd gained 60 pounds this pregnancy. My stomach deflated by like 40%, I swear. It was weird and awesome since I'd been so worried about losing all the fatty fatness I'd become. Good ole water weight.

Then, we sat and waited for a loooooong time. A good couple of hours passed and family started to text us what was going on. "Nothing," we'd reply. "Just waiting for things to progress." I ate a couple popsicles, a bit of ice, Nurse Ginger came in and chit chatted with us here and there, but mostly we just wondered when in the heck this baby would be ready.

I am foggy on the times now, but I think around 3, they checked my dilation and it was about an 8 or a 9. They said two other women were in the hospital now who were right around the same progression I was and it was going to be a race to the finish. We all had the same doctor, Dr. Smith, who whenever I've seen her has always been cool, friendly, and encouraging. Today was no different, though I did feel a little possessive of her. We had picked this day especially because she would be the one to deliver our baby girl. Ah well, she must be pretty popular.

About 10 minutes after everyone left, I felt a great pressure and urge to push. I grabbed the side of the bed. "Whoa!" Tim looked concerned. "What?" "I think she's ready," I said. I felt it again. "Yep!" I pushed the call button. "Nurse's station, how can we help you?" "Uh, yeah, I think my baby wants to come out now."

A moment later, Nurse Ginger was back and checking me. "Oh yes," she said. "She is ready to go." "Okay," I said, "Where's Dr. Smith?" Her face fell a little. She explained I was second in line since one of the other girls got there just before I did and was having some trouble. I didn't feel possessive anymore. If that girl was in trouble, then Dr. Smith was where she needed to be. I was doing just fine, even though I really wanted to push every contraction.

It felt like forever, but everyone finally came in for baby girl's big debut. Nurse Ginger told me since my first baby was so big, this one will probably pop right out in just a push or two. That sounded nice. I decided to give everything I had right up front so I could tell everyone she came out in one big push.

Tim and I looked at each other. "Here we go!" I said, gripping his hand.

It took more than one push, but by the end of the second push, everyone in the room was excited over the color of her hair. "It is blazing red, Mary! It's so red!" Tim and I laughed. We knew we'd end up with an army of gingers! Third push, Nurse Ginger asked if I wanted to touch her head. No! She was not out yet and that would be weird, so no thank you. Two pushes later, she was out. Tim cut the cord. They weighed her: 9 pounds exactly! Nice and dainty compared to our big boy. "What's her name?" someone asked. "Well," I said to Tim with a shrug. "She's got red hair." "Fiona Rose?" he asked. I nodded. "Fiona Rose."

They cleaned her really quickly so we could snuggle, but when they brought her over, I was desperate for a barf bag. It was probably the worst timing of any timing in the history of the universe. Here she was, my little red-headed baby girl, right there ready to be held for the first time by her mama and her mama is too busy puking her popsicles out. "Give her to Tim," I said between pukies. "No!" he said. He'd talked to me before about how he got to hold Ronan first since Ronan had to have some fluid sucked out of him before I could hold him. He told me it was too cool an experience, holding him for the first time, and he didn't want to take it away from me again. So he patiently waited.

Finally it passed and I held our little baby girl. She was crying when they handed her to me, so I put my face on hers and sushed her. I told her how nice it was to see her and I was her mommy. She calmed down and I felt like supermom. I pulled her down to my chest to get a look at her. Only one of her eyes opened and squinted at me. Her tiny, red, confused face made me giggle. I looked up at Tim. "She looks just like Ronan did!" He nodded. It was so strange. We knew she was a different baby, but it took me right back to the first time I looked at Ronan and what it felt like to be a mom. The feelings here were just a little different. It felt so natural to hold her that I hardly thought about it. I couldn't stop looking at her. It was so nice to be able to see her and meet her that every question the nurses asked me, I just kept looking at her. She was mine. I knew I was her mommy and she needed me. "We're gonna take good care of you," I told her.

I'd like to say that every single person in that room was so encouraging and awesome. It was like having my own personal fan base sitting with me. We had a wonderful experience with Ronan's birth, and Fiona's was no different. Everyone was awesome and Nurse Ginger was so upbeat and positive, and very competent. I am very grateful to have had two healthy, relatively easy labors.

If only being pregnant was so easy.

Ronan is Two!

Ronan turned two years old last Saturday. We had a wonderful party, thanks to the efforts of Tim's party-planning genius sister, Beth. It was Monster's University themed, adorable, and so much fun. Ronan kept saying, "Mike! Sullay!" It was cute.

People asked me about how I felt about Ronan turning two. Honestly, I love it. He is so freaking adorable, people. The more he learns to talk, the more I get to know him and how his mind works. Sometimes, he just wants to talk about shapes and colors, so we'll be in the car and he'll spout out all the colors he knows one by one, and I'll repeat what he says (that's how the game is played). We'll do that for shapes as well. He likes to count to ten with me, too. I'll hold up my fingers as he counts, and he can count to ten, man. Sometimes, if he's lazy, he'll say "One, two, ten! Yay!" And yes, I still celebrate with him because it is fun. Today, he counted all the way to 20 with Dada during church. That surprised the crap out of us. He's learning his ABC's. The other day, he recited almost the entire alphabet, besides the letter N, which naturally, he doesn't count as a real letter since it sounds so much like "m" and is right next to it. Who thought of that, anyway?

When he wants something, he is quite determined to get it. For example, if he wants to color with the sidewalk chalk, he will point at the box and say "Colors, chalk, outside," until you take him. It doesn't matter how many times you say, "No, buddy, we are about to go to the store. We will color later." He will completely ignore your words until he hears you repeat back to him, "Colors, chalk, outside," and then go to the door with a great broad grin across his sweet little face. Until he gets what he wants, his big brown eyes look worried, like he may never be happy again if he doesn't get that one thing he so desperately wants. Mommy has learned not to look too closely, or else it is too hard to say no.

He gives the best hugs of any 2 year old I've ever met. We'll be hanging out in the living room and he will suddenly turn to me and ask with arms extended, "Hug? Hug?" I pick him up and he snuggles right into my shoulder and says, "Huuuug." Those who have witnessed it say he says it with his sweet smile on his face.

He's a really good friend to play with (mostly). Lincoln, his cousin, and Nathan, a boy my sister-in-law nannies, are two of his best buddies. Lincoln and him have a complicated relationship sometimes where they like to take each other's toys, but they will still make sure their buddy gets a piece of candy when Papa's dishing it out. He and Nathan like to run in circles chasing each other, or see who can yell the loudest across the house, or jump up and down on the couch together til they fall on their bums. He is really good at laughing at your jokes. If you're doing something that's funny, you can always count on him to laugh. Sometimes, he'll laugh just because everyone else is laughing. It's totally fake, of course, but so considerate, right?

His favorite places to go are the pool, Papa's House, and Lincoln. He asks for these things every day. Lincoln, of course, is his cousin, so it doesn't matter where we go. As long as Lincoln is there, it'll be cool.

He speaks pretty well, or I at least understand most of what he's trying to say. He says things like "Papa housh" and "Poowah" pretty well, but if someone came into our house and heard him ask, "Cuh Coo?" They wouldn't know that meant, "Can I watch Color Crew on the WiiU Tablet?" Or when he says, "A cusheh sheh?" that means, "What color is it?" Once in a while, he'll say something I don't understand. I'll repeat back what I thought he said, and I know I've got it right when he repeats it with a smile. I know I've got it wrong if he just smiles without saying anything with a look on his face that I've interpreted to mean, "No, but nice try."

He is really good at praying. Whenever we say, "time for prayer," he will fold his arms and look around the room to make sure everyone is closing their eyes and folding their arms, too. If you aren't, he will stare at you until you do it. I don't think he has ever closed his eyes for a prayer, but he will always give a hearty, Amen! when it's done. Today at church, a member of the Bishopric offered to give me a blessing since I've got a cold and am about to have a baby (2 1/2 more weeks til due date...aaaaa!!). In our church, a priesthood holder will place his hands on your head and say a prayer, asking the Lord to bless you with whatever ails you. In this case, it was my health that needed addressing. Ronan was in the room with us since classes at church were still going on and no one was readily available to watch him. Daddy and the member of the Bishopric gave me a blessing. When it was done, Ronan said Amen, then climbed up onto my lap, face to face with me, and put both his little hands on my head. He mumbled a few things, then said, "Jeeza Kwigh, Amen." (In our church, we close all our prayers with, "In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.") That's right. Ronan gave mommy a blessing. When he was done, he did it again. And again. He gave mommy three more blessings, the sweet little thing. I almost died.

He has his rascally moments, of course. He's a two-year-old boy! But for the most part, he is a very sweet boy who loves his mommy, daddy and puppy Chloe. I've never seen a little boy grab a dog's face and want kisses like that before. I have to watch him around her so he doesn't get doused in slobber. Just shows you how lovey dovey he is. And boy, do we love it. Every night, before he goes to sleep, I will sit with him and sing him a lullaby. And he actually likes it. Do you know what a dream-fulfillment that is for me? Growing up, I learned lullabies just so I could sing my kids to sleep every night. I have quite an arsenal of songs to knock him out, too. He is a very good sleeper nowadays. When it's time for night-night, he usually has no problems. I am VERY grateful for that.

We love our little man. The more he grows up, the more we love him.

And that, folks, is why we're having another one. :) Kids are just too cool.

Early Birthday Present

Tim rocks my socks off.

A couple weeks ago, I told him I wanted some real presents for my birthday this year. Usually, I can't remember things I want/need when it's time for my birthday. I didn't want to waste another birthday and remember a week later that, oh yeah, I wanted a new curling iron or a cool spa getaway that's discounted on living social. So I started making a list on my phone when good things popped into my head. Here is the list:

Cast Iron Skillet
KitchenAid Mixer
Manicure/Pedicure
New Laptop
Prenatal Yoga class

I'm usually not into possessions and all that. I'm pretty content with what I have, but the longer I'm a mom, the more convenience and relaxation are important for my sanity. I only make cookies like twice a year, if I feel like it. And I've NEVER considered myself a baker, more of a cook (hence the desire for the cast iron skillet...those are awesome), but I'd like to think the only reason I haven't stretched my baking wings is because stirring just takes too much effort. Maybe if I had a KitchenAid, I'd bake a little more. That's the shpeel I gave to Tim, anyway.
I've been hearing that Prenatal Yoga is awesome and I've been wanting to try it, and hopefully, that will be relaxing, and the mani/pedi is just a no brainer.
A new laptop is something I've been needing/wanting for some time. The laptop I've been using is 9 years old, so I do not use the internet AT ALL. I have so many poems and short stories on there, and music and pictures from college years, I don't want some virus to warp my precious precious memories. Also, I've been trying to write a stupid novel for like 3 years now, and I'm almost 100 pages in. If I were to lose all that and the notes I wrote on the side, I would cry for at least a week. Also, I have nowhere to store all the adorable pictures we're getting of our family. So a new laptop would be very, very nice to have. Nothing fancy, just enough to do what I need it to.

I'm just trying to justify my very expensive wants to you. Is it normal to feel guilty wanting these things? We just got a new van and I feel like asking for these things is pressing my luck. I ask myself if I'm becoming greedy. There are more important things our family needs, like a house. We should be saving our money to buy a house. Right?

Well, today, Tim told me to go to the movies with my Dad. It was a nice treat. The stress of finding a babysitter was not there, and I didn't have to worry about Ronan being out of routine or whatever cuz he was with his Daddy! How nice of my husband, right? When I got home, he told me I was home too early. I was confused. Why was he so upset? Then he showed me the shiny new laptop on the coffee table.

"I was setting it up for you so it would be ready when you got home. It's an early birthday present." I wrapped my arms around him and cried like a baby. This man spoils me, I tell you. He spoils me rotton.

So I hope this blog will be better kept now that I have a convenient typing tool to write what's on my mind.

And hopefully, it won't be all jibber jabber. Like this was.

I lubs my hubs.

Little Things Are Big Things

Disclaimer: my phone won't let me go back on sentences to fix things, so I apologize for any incorrect grammar or the like.


Alma 37:6-7
Now ye may suppose that this is foolishness in me, but behold, I say into you that by small and simple things are great things brought to pass, and small means in many instances doth confound the wise. And The Lord God doth work by means to bring about his great and eternal purposes by very small means, The Lord doth confound the wise and bro herb about the salvation of many souls.

The other day, I was craving a philly steak and cheese sub. When I got there, I was short $4 by accident. The manager told me it was okay and to please come back again. It may have been a small thing to him, but not to me. That made my day. Everywhere I go, and even stories on Facebook, I'm beginning to see these small acts of kindness that people are doing for strangers, for loved ones, for puppies, and the word is spreading.

Allow me to boast about my husband for a moment. Right now, he is the owner of a martial arts school with approximately 300 students. Some are adults, some are kids, but everyone is happy to be there, and he keeps very busy teaching classes, but also talking to kids who need help with something, with anything, really. Sometimes it's bullying at school, sometimes it's being a bully at school, sometimes it's a lost loved one leaving an empty space. Whatever it is, when he comes home at the end of the night, we are grateful to be in a position to help these kids in any way.

He could not have gotten to where he is right now without the help of some very dear friends and family who did some little and big things for us along the way. Some nights I think of these people and say a small prayer of thanks for where we are in our lives.

Three years ago, we were living rent free with my father and working inside a small room a very nice lady allowed us to use inside her daycare. We had no children, just a sweet pup and each other, and a good feeling we were doing the right thing.

Since then, we have moved into a very cozy apartment, moved from the daycare to a real space, to an even bigger real space built to my husbands specifications, had one son and another baby due in August (a girl!). We have met many families, some who have stayed, some who have left, but we still keep in touch with, and the people we meet continue to amaze and inspire me.

One thing I have learned from my husband is what hard work can bring about. Not just hard work, but real ambition, belief in yourself, and a strong goal can empower you to have the capacity to accomplish what you desire. People who know Tim also know he can't stop thinking about martial arts, about how to improve what he's doing every way he can. Accomplishment means doing a little each day to work towards a long term goal. I have seen it, and I witness it every day.

Not only in my husband's business, but in every aspect of my life. My sweet boy is learning animal sounds and shapes and colors. It is not done in one day, in one long meeting sitting at the table loking at a PowerPoint (not that that's bad), but we practice a little bit each day, and the more often I commit myself to teach hi
, the more he learns. Cow says moooooooo. Doggie says arf! arf! Kitty cat says meooow. O is a circle (he says girkle). The truck is red. The car is blue. He loves to learn (for a while, then the red truck crashes into the blue car--"uh noooo").

I see it in the progress of students in our program. One five year old may have started as a troublemaker who urged others at school to do something wrong (not all the time, of course), but now I see a strong 8 year old who helps those younger than her. And of course it's not just us, it's all the good people around these kids helping them become better people and make better choices, but to be a part of that, for my husband to want to be a part of that, makes me feel so good and so proud.

Tonight, because of a dear family friend, we attended a cocktail party filled with people like Tim who are trying to do things that give back to the community. It brought hope into my heart for the future of the world. There are people al over the place who are doing things, little things and big things, to try to help the people around them. What a wonderful honor it was to be there and meet those people.

Months ago, again, because of a dear family friend, we had the opportunity to meet people in the MDA (Muscular Distrophy Association), and the young ambassadors who had MD, and their parents. It broke my heart to see those young kids in wheelchairs, with a disease they knew had no known cure. Their parents were amazing people filled with faith and gratitude. I will never forget meeting them, and I will never forget the people who were there to help them, to raise money for the study of a cure. I will never forget that it was because of my husband's efforts that we were invited to be there.

The little things that he has done, the little things that people do every day, has more impact than we know. Little things are big things. I know this.

Tonight, I am grateful for the many little things that have lead me to where I am now, just sitting on the couch beside my husband who I love so much, the TV on low so as not to disturb our sweet slumbering silly Ronan, our growing baby girl moving around inside my belly, hungry for a sandwich, and this beautiful feeling I have in my heart that I love my life and all the people in it. I am so grateful to my Heavenly Father for all of these blessings, for the great love he has for our little family, and, this Easter season, for my Savior. That he lived and died so we could, that He lived for us and died for us, and that if I ever feel alone or distressed, any little thing, He knows, He knows. We are not alone.

And that is no little thing.

One Year

I can't believe it.

Mr. Milk Mustache is one.


Every night, after Ronan goes to sleep, Tim and I usually watch an episode or two of Burn Notice before going to sleep. Tonight, Tim pulled out the old iPad to look at pictures and videos first taken of our tiny little man.

Yeah, I cried. So what? He's gotten so big and come so far! He's said his first words (Da da, yay, and hi-ya!), started walking, eats big people foods, laughs at my jokes, pays his part of the rent, he's like an old man now! When I think of how big he's grown, it doesn't make me sad, it makes me so happy for him. He's accomplished so much. You can see it on his little face when he starts walking to you. My tiny baby is a funny little boy!

So when I look at tiny baby pictures, it brings up some feelings. How I couldn't believe he was ours, how wonderful it was to have brought such a sweet little boy into the world, how much love I could feel for one little stranger. Other feelings come, too. Memories of stress. Worry. Anxiety. Exhaustion. Doubt in myself that I could actually do it. Actually be a mom all the time. Looking at these pictures reminds me of having absolutely no idea what the heck I was doing. Then, I remember this:

And I remember it wasn't just me. We didn't know what we were doing. But together, we figured things out. We kept him clean,

Put him in clothes reflecting important life lessons,

Dressed him up,

You know, held his hand through all the hard bein-a-baby stuff.

(Tim fell asleep holding Ronan's hand once)

We knew from day one he was a sweet, silly boy, so it was nice to hear his very first laugh. The first of many. (Sorry my links don't work. You'll have to copy/paste)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c4zIsgSCTts

As he grew, we were able to teach him the important things in life. Like how to throw a good right hook.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D8ps8g5uBBQ

How to appreciate nature.



I think that's the greatest part about being a parent; showing your child the world.

All the fun things there are to see and explore.

So, no, I am not sad my baby is growing up. He is so much fun to watch.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KhH0GEXP_Go&feature=youtu.be

His dad is so proud that he knows how to kick!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2UQ6c3flkJo&feature=youtu.be

And just look at those walking skills.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jZ0LCsWew8M&feature=youtu.be

I'm tellin' ya, every day it gets better and better with this guy. Sure, he's attracted to trouble and likes to be where the action is (not cool when mommy's cooking, by the way), but as long as he's fed and rested, he is mommy's little superhero!

Happy 1st birthday, Super Ronan!

Yay For Internet!

It took a while, but we finally got internet at our new apartment. Oh wait, it was new in December. It's June and I haven't blogged in 6 months. Time for a quick update!

Life moves pretty fast when you are a mom. I feel like I barely have time to breath and then he's almost walking!

Today was Lincoln's first birthday. Lincoln is Ronan's cousin, born 5 weeks before Ronan. They are pretty good buds, just what we hoped for. Biggest thing about today was realizing my tiny bundle of great big baby is now teetering on the edge of toddlerhood. He will be 11 months old on the 19th and I can't believe it. He is still tall, small head, weighed in at almost 20 pounds for his 9 month checkup a while back. I feel like he's gained 10 more, but maybe my arms are getting weaker.

Everywhere we go, people ask me where he got his hair color from. It is orange, people. My hair is auburn on a good day when the sun is shining right, and Tim's is a dark bronze to those who know him closely. In every other instance, we have dark hair and our baby has a vibrant plume of volcanic magma growing faster than I think it is appropriate. When I was pregnant, I didn't mind the questions about when I was due and is it a boy and all that, but now that I've got a red-head, I find myself wanting to make a shirt that answers the question, "Where did he get all that red hair?"

From us, is the answer. Don't you see it? Maybe we'll find some baby pictures and paste them on our faces so people will stop asking. Hmm...that may bring different questions.

When people do stop and ask us, Ronan usually smiles at them. He's starting to get a little more clingy to mom, but when he's in a good mood still, he'll flash his sweet little smile at strangers and they just melt. I disappear. There is no more mommy. There is only an adorable baby in a grocery cart who is pointing at the balloons, pleading with you in babbles to get that shiny floating thing before he bursts. I love that about him, though. He is so friendly to everyone. Other babies and kids, especially, which is so sweet it hurts.

When we go home, Ronan enjoys practicing. He practices crawling, army style and baby style. He pulls himself up on the couch and drops down over and over, sometimes using his teeth to bite down for more leverage. He practices hide and seek with the plastic ball-pit balls from the inflatable Lightening McQueen ball-pit tent his daddy got for him from Wal-mart for $20. I find those primary-colored balls everywhere. By the window, in the kitchen, in the laundry basket, behind the playstation 2 box, in the cupholder of the stroller tray...

He practices throwing those plastic balls across the room, but especially on the kitchen floor. It really goes far in there. And it bounces, which is neat.

He practices getting into trouble. Eating cords and stroller wheels and dog food and dead bugs looks like adventure to Ronan. Luckily mom is there to say no-no before he tries it.

He also practices walking. He will grab your fingers, your index fingers, and thrust himself upward any way he can. Once he's got you helping him, he will step in whatever direction he has decided to go. And you will go that way, my friend, or prepare yourself for the sad cry of frustrated babyness.

I think he is determined to walk in time for Aunt Melissa's wedding in September. She's asked him to be the ringbearer. At the rate he's going right now, it looks like he'll be walking in time for his first birthday, but you never know with babies.

It's late and I think I'm not making much sense so I'm going to bed. More post later!

4 Months

Height: 27 1/2 inches >97%

Weight: 17.4 lbs. 81%

Head size: 40.5cm 5%

Ronan still is a very tall baby with a small head! He is growing at a funny rate. The doctor joked about his head size and said "at least it's not shrinking." I feel like all the growth of his head is upwards and thats why he's so tall. We have him in mostly 9 month clothes now. It's crazy how fast he is growing. I just went through all his clothes AGAIN to weed out the things that don't fit.

His favorite things include:

-His bouncy chair, which he will happily bounce in for 30 minutes some days.

-Grabbing mommy's hair, or anyone's hair for that matter (sorry, grandma Rook).

- Looking at and petting Chloe. The other day he laughed when she did her "jump and spin" trick.

-Yelling at people while grabbing their faces. He does this to Tim all the time and it cracks me up. I guess I wouldn't call it yelling so much as it is growling.

-Watching TV. He is my child for sure. I've never seen a baby so young enjoy TV so much. I try to only let him watch one baby Einstein video a day, but sometimes he gets to watch tv with daddy, too.

-Going for walks. It gives him a chance to observe the world and be in the sun. We love walks.

-Watching ninja classes. Whenever I bring him into work with me, he will be content to sit on me and watch class til he falls asleep.

He can now:

-Hold his head up from the ground a good couple inches when he's on his back. He lifts his legs at the same time, keeping his toes pointed. We call them his baby crunches. The doctor was pretty impressed with them.

-Roll from his back to his belly, which people keep telling us is harder than belly to back. He can't roll from his belly to his back yet, and has only rolled from back to belly a handful of times. Each time he was kind of like "how the heck did I get this way?"

-Grab objects with both hands and one hand. He's getting so good at grabbing, he's starting to pinch mommy's arm fat when he's being carried. I swear he's giving me bruises, he is so strong.

-Grab his feet. He hasn't eaten them yet, but he looks at them a lot and just the other day, started to grab them.

Our baby is growing up. He seems more and more like a real person and it is so much fun to see his little personality developing. He is the silliest little thing I've ever seen. I wish I could post a video of him grabbing Tim's face and growling at him. He does it ALL the time.

He's still a very sweet baby and only fusses when he needs something; food, nap, no more tummy time, to turn the TV back on (okay, so he's starting to fuss a little more, but not much). He will sleep from around 10:30-8 or 9, waking up here and there for some milkies. He takes 3 good naps a day or 4-5 short ones, depending on what happens. I can tell when he's gotten a good nap because when I hear him waking up, I'll go in to get him and he will smile at me.

And when he smiles, my heart leaps.