Adventures in Solids

The boy eats solids now.

It seemed like a fun new thing at first. But now, it has turned into a royal pain in the arse. Some days, he opens his mouth right away and on others, he acts like he has never done it before. The latter happens with much more regularity than the former. He clamps his mouth and shakes his head back and forth. On really great days, he raspberry's the food so it splatters all over everything. Ugh. I'm starting to think he may drag his bottle behind him to prom as he is pulled on his guerney.

Today, I asked J to try to see if he could encourage him to eat because I was quickly turning into that mom who force feeds her screaming child against his will. Eating should be fun and I didn't want to screw him up any more than I already have done.

After 20 minutes of singing, cheering, and fake eating, this is what we got. A messy boy and happy parents.

Seven Months

You are seven months this week, little one. Where has the time gone? This time last year, you were nothing more than a little raspberry in my stomach and now you are growing into a sweet little man. In these last seven months, you have proven that we are definitely your parents.

You are charming and easy going like Daddy. You love the ladies and will smile easily at the most inappropriate people at the inappropriate times. On Easter, in fact, you were so flirtatious with the women sitting behind us at church that it was suggested to me that there was a nursery--ya, know--if I needed it! Having lost your audience, you promptly proceeded to wail like a demon for the next 45 minutes. Hmm, I wonder why we haven't been back since?

You love to eat, like Mom, and are eating solids once a day. Your favorites seem to be parsnips and pears. You hate carrots, as does now Mom, cause they stain like a beast! Sigh. Your clothes will never be the same again.

But don't even suggest that you try cauliflower, thank you very much. Like Daddy, once you are done, you're done. And why, oh, why must they smell like dirty socks??

Another trait you inherited from Dad is knack for falling asleep mid-sentence. I suppose you, too, are a bit of a narcalept. In this picture, you and Dad were supposed to be discussing your views on the world economic crisis. Dad nodded off first after detailing the most recent AIG scandals and just as you were about to interject you realized you were speaking to yourself. Sitting up, you decided to just close your eyes for a minute, too. You needed a moment to gather your thoughts.

As much as I joke about it, you do have one milestone under your belt--sitting up. You can do this with your pacifier in your mouth, as well, you little Talent.

You have so many cute little quirks like the way you squeeze your eyes shut when I comb your hair or use your gift of the raspberry to express all your emotions. You are happy and giggly and joy to be around. I love you and can't wait to see what the next seven months have in store for you.

Love, Your Female Caretaker