Dashing Through the Snow...

...in crazy 80 degree Tennessee October weather...

  Yes. I am that person who starts singing Christmas songs in October. Do not ride in the car with me until after Thanksgiving!

[previously written due to very cranky baby who wouldn't let me finish...]
What am I doing at this very moment? Well a fly on the wall might say I'm lying in bed at 11:45 am, playing on my phone. But if you get your information from flies, or worse yet, talk to flies (although I have started to name each of my winged friends who have taken up residency in my house), you wouldn't realize what I'm actually doing is being a human security blanket for Corbin, who is still fighting the battle of the toofies. Something about the sound of the mother's heart beat (and the comfort of the boobies) makes babies go into instant relaxation mode. And though my arm is numb from the weight of his head, I still managed to work my little dead philanges enough to reorganize my pinterest Christmas boards...

My arm was dead from the weight of the adorableness

So, in the past week, not a lot has occurred. I did some baby sitting for my friend and discovered that having two kids can be both easier and more difficult. It was hard to give both attention, keep both occupied, and get anywhere on time (who am I kidding? We were 15-20 minutes late every where!). But, it was easier because I had a sweet little man-child following me around, offering to help make the bed, fold towels, and carry the diaper bag. Who needs a husband!? Really, these boys are the best! God knew what He was doing by giving me a son. And no, I didn't just implement child labor the whole time I baby sat. We painted, baked, played Mario Kart, and went to the park. You know, general awesomeness. So stop judging, Judgey McJudgerson.

Future  Van Gogh

Swinging!

My Sous Chef

On the subject of Things-People-Question-About-Me-But-I-Don't-Care-Because-I'm-Right-End-of-Story , I'm slowly progressing toward my goal of moving Corbin out of my room and into his crib. My original goal was 6 months, buuuuut in 3 days he will be precisely 1/2 a year old (can you believe it!?!?), so it looks like it may take slightly longer. I did finally set up the Pack 'N' Play I have been meaning to get out but forgot every time for the past 6 months. Even though my petite pal still technically fits in his bassinet, I'm afraid he will catapult himself out during one of his early morning Olympic routines.  So, he's now in the big Mac Daddy of play yards...

........in our room.

But wait! It's not as bad as it sounds. See, first the bassinet was up against my side of the bed, by my face, so close I could hear his thoughts. Then I pushed it down toward the foot of the bed, still my side. Then I moved it all the way at the end of the bed. Now he's against the wall ALL the way on the other side of our 13X15' bedroom. According to my calculations, at this rate, he will be in his room by the time he enters kindergarten.

Okay whatever.

If you had something this adorbs, you'd want him with you all the time, too!

Cuddles with mommy

Rolling Around

Avacado...green in, green out...

Reveal the goddess in you

Last night was full of crying, waking up, restless sleep, and all-around crankiness. And that was just me.

Corbin has been teething lately. Bad. And he's congested. And he has a pimple on his chin (clearly from the stress of it all). It seems to effect him most at night and naps. Hence why I haven't written lately. It seems like nothing makes the poor guy happy, including me. I've actually been on one long consecutive attempt to lessen his unhappiness for the past three days now. Which, coincidentally, is how many days I've been trying to fix our idiotic computer so I can begin the looong process of burning all of Corbin's home movies to DVD.

All. Five. Months.

In other news, Corbin has been hitting some pretty monumental milestones lately.

1. Rolling Over
I thought he'd never roll over.  I thought he'd be 16 years old and still crying for me to come roll him off the couch.  But Corbin can now roll back-to-tummy, which is great.  The not-so-great part is he can't roll back.  Which means I am rolling a baby back 367,836,741 times a day. If he could just figure out how to get over that arm!

I want my baby back, baby back, baby back...

2. "Ma Ma"
As much as I'd love to shout from the roof top that Corbin is now saying "mama," I can't really give him that much credit...yet.  He has discovered the /m/ sound...so everything is now "muh" and "mah." But for as much as I go through for this boy, his first real word better dang well be "mama!"  That's all I got to say about that.

My Little Genius

3. Playing the Drums
Move over, [insert popular drummer's name here], Corbin Oliver is the next animal!  Actually, if he wants to be a drummer in a rock band, he might want to consider changing his name from Corbin Oliver to something less...I dunno...concert violinist-y.  

But really.  This weekend my dad, who actually is a drummer (although "Randell Eugene" sounds more trombone-ish to me), sat Corbin on his lap and showed him how to hit each drum and symbol.  Then he handed Corbin a drum stick, and wouldn't you know the boy actually, really, not making-this-up hit the drums like my dad had showed him.  For fifteen minutes.  That's like, 5 hours for a baby.  Not once did he try to put the drum stick in his mouth...okay maybe once...but really, he really was concentrating on the task at hand!  We got it on video so we have documented proof, too.

 As for me, I've rediscovered my love for Pinterest lately. I quit for a while when I went on leave from teaching.  It kind of made me school-sick to see all the super fantastic pins my teacher friends were gallivanting about. So right now, I'm all into new recipes and Christmas-y stuff. Because, let's be honest, fall holidays are just there to bridge the gap between summer and Christmas. Why else would stores put out Christmas stuff in September!? Deeerrr!

Oh, and thank goodness Pinterest has an android app now. I find snippets of pinning time now-and-then, mostly during the insulting amount of time that teething tablets actually work. I thought about following Josh's cues and taking a 45 minute "office break" in the loo, but then I remembered... Oh snap! I'm a mom.
 
But in-between the crying (Corbin's, not mine), fuss bucket attitude (again, Corbin's), and entertaining my suddenly opinionated boy (where did the good ole days of staring at the ceiling fan for hours go!!??) I have been enjoying this autumn season. My house smells like soup (thanks, Pinterest!) and I can't wait to put out all my fall decorations! I have to admit, I'm feeling a bit domesticated goddess-y.

...if goddesses were sleep deprived and sported 3-day-old pony tails. Ya know, the ones with teething babies.

Anyone else want to sing the Venus razor jingle whenever you hear the word "goddess?"

I'm your Venus...I'm your fire...your desire...

In the end, motherhood has this way of duping women into continuing with all this cruel and unusual torture...the kind which makes childless women cringe and want to fry their eggs for breakfast. It's called this:

Blogging or Showering? Well, duh.

So pretty much I've been dealing with a fuss pot the last couple of days and nights... And somehow blogging didn't get scratched off my to-do list. Well, neither did a shower but that's beside the point. Oh well... Gives my collection of houseflies something to do.

The night before last I was up with Corbin from about 11-3:30 am.  No, we weren't partying like rock stars. I was dealing with uncontrollable crying from an overly tired, hysterical baby. Oh, and Corbin was teething, too.

Did you know Tylenol, teething tablets, and gas drops are rendered ineffective by the wee morning hours? Somebody should really put that on the label.

Fuss Pot

 Anyhoo, the next day he was a scroogy butt and decided nothing I did was good enough. Except make bananas for lunch. He seriously enjoys some 'nanners.

1 Sweet Potato = 11 jars of baby food

Bananas

I did manage to get my Baby Bullet out for the first time yesterday! I am in love with the thing! I made four jars of baby food from one banana! I'm skipping cereal for now because it is pointless. He already knows how to eat off a spoon and cereal hurts his stomach. So far, bananas have been an absolute hit with no allergic reactions (yay).  Next week I am starting sweet potatoes. I love how the BB has a cookbook that gives you a list of which foods to try first. Not to mention it is almost as cute as Corbin Oliver, with all the smiley faces and what not. Actually, yesterday, I probably would've picked the Baby Bullet over C Man.
 
I'm kiiiiiidding...ish.

His initial reaction to sweet potatoes? You tell me :)

So yeah, I totally caved on waiting til 6 months to start baby food.

Last night was a little better. After his bath, Corbin rolled around on the floor naked for 15 minutes. It was hilarious. He was kicking his little short legs and shaking his little bubble butt, exposing his lil man bits... And we got it all on camera for future blackmail.

Can't roll back for that silly arm!

Today has been a better kind of day. Planting some mums... making some soup... planning my future Christmas projects on Pinterest... rocking my baby to sleep... It's the kind of day that makes up for the last two. The kind of day that makes me dread going back to work. The kind that makes me sad that Corbin is growing up so fast and eating baby food and rolling over already. The kind of uneventful day that I'll always want to remember but probably won't.

It's bittersweet.

Nanner Nom Noms

I would be lying if I said I've never sat in front of the TV, shamelessly shoveling Cheetos into my face, while watching one of those Feed the Children infomercials. Without feeling a pinch of guilt. Well, not enough to make me stop sucking my orange fingers til they turned purple, anyway.

Recently, Corbin has started watching me eat. Like, really REALLY watching. He's also in that grab-everything-within-reach stage. If he's in my lap I have to be really careful because he would totally slip-n-slide his way into my chimichangas if I let him.

It started with drinking glasses. He has watched us so many times, he learned how to hold onto the glass and put his chubby little face to the rim and suck on it. Word to the wise: unless you sweeten your tea with baby drool (Maybe not a bad idea. Those sloppy kisses are mighty sweet.), I would highly suggest you finish your drink before allowing this. Gag.

Most recently, he has developed an affinity for forks and spoons. Today he sat motionless in his jumperoo (partially because he was fascinated, partially because he's still a shorty and can't reach the floor) while mommy ate her Lean Cuisine, all the while staring at me like he hadn't just downed a 6-ouncer two hours ago. He started smacking those little lips together like a toothless grandpa on tapioca day at the home. Seriously, between him and the dog, I might as well been eating in front of...well...a Feed the Children commercial.

Now I've said it a thousand times, "I'm not starting solids until he's 6 months old because that's what 'they' recommend." "They" never got the stare-down while trying to enjoy some microwave enchiladas for under 400 calories. I already planned on starting him on bananas and avocado first, and we just-so-happened to have one lone banana that had turned a wee bit too freckled for my palate. But hey, you know what they say about beggers.

I cut about a 2" section and mashed it up with a little water until it was soupy. I slapped a bib on that sweet thing and we got busy.

The first taste, honestly, confused him more than anything. He sat there with a perplexed look on his face and contemplated the cream-of-Chiquita soup I had just plopped on his tongue. Then it happened. Those little receptors on his tongue jolted alive with the intensity of an Easy Bake Oven on propane gas, and the next thing I knew...

He was crying.

Um...not the reaction I hoped for.

I was just about to take the slop back into the kitchen when he spotted it: the spoon. His eyes got huge and he started tensing up with excitement. Apparently, he wanted his first time tasting real food to be on his own accord, so, I handed him the little blue spoon.  He immediately squealed with delight and put it in his mouth.

Great. My child is a control freak.

And then he finished that entire bowl of 'nanners by himself. Ok, and with a little help from me. But really, he was very passionate. He grunted. He cried. He screamed with excitement. It was like a Spanish telenova. Only in baby babble.

I don't know if I'll make food a regular thing or not until he hits 6 months old. But at least I know he will tear up some bananas. Feast your eyes on the sweetness:

"I'm ready!"

"Hmmm...interesting"

Smacking his lips together

MORE!!!

'Twas the night before 5 months

I thought I was going to cry the first time Corbin got his shots. He was 2 months old and lied starry-eyed, gazing at the ceiling of the exam room. Then, the first needle penetrated the flesh of my newborn babe. The look in his eyes was of shock, confusion, and pain.  Mommy, why are you doing this to me???

I wanted to punch the nurse. And I did so in my thoughts.

The second go-around came at 4 months old. This time, I looked away, then swooped in like his savior and smothered him in cuddles and kisses.

The nurse didn't get thought-punched.

But now we are at the ripe ole age of 5 months. Today, 5 months ago, I evicted the little parasitic angel from my uterus. I sure hope, for his sake, 5 months is better than 4 months. We entered 4 months with shots, sleep regression, and the beginning signs of teething. It's been no bueno y no divertito for mommy (for those who didn't take high school level Spanish, that should be "no good and no fun").

But last night, the eve of 5 months, 4 months decided to go out with a bang.

It started with naps. Corbin has always fought naps. As soon as he realizes you're trying to "make" him go to sleep (oh tiny, yawning, fussing, eye-rubbing baby, how horrible am I for offering you soft music and a blanket?), he starts the "alligator roll" and I-just-got-a-shot-in-my-thigh style crying. But yesterday was different. In a passive-aggressive protest to naps, he went right to sleep. Peaceful. Sound. Sleep. But as soon as I would even THINK of laying him down, he was wake. Wide awake. For the next 6 hours.

Faking Sleep?

Then came the park meltdown. This was going to be yesterday's blog, but just as I put an over-tired Corbin to bed and sat down to write, "it" happened. What is "it?" Last night was "it."

Not a happy camper

Just minutes after I settled down, feeling the success of conquering Corbin's sleep battle, Josh came bumbling through the front door, setting off our furry alarm system, which prompted Josh to yell at him to be quiet. By our bedroom door. Where Corbin was sleeping. I was sitting in the nursery, thought-punching my dear husband, when Corbin woke up crying.  Nay, screaming.

It would continue like that for the next 1.5 hours - Corbin screaming, and me frantically bouncing between treating gas and teeth pain.  For gas, we tried: burping, bicycling legs, gas drops, and tummy rubs. For teeth, we tried: teething tablets, ora-jel, tylenol, cold teethers, and frozen wash cloths. Major fail.

I called for backup. First my mom. No answer. Then my best friend. I think at the end she must've hung up with pity and a prayer because veteran moms know all-to-well the signs of a sleepless night ahead. And we were heading full speed in that direction.

Sadly/fortunately, the poor little guy (and mommy) eventually tuckered out, and we both passed out on my bed. Something about sleeping in mommy and daddy's bed always makes it better. My little guy woke up smiling and chatting away, and mommy woke up looking/feeling like death on a cracker. But today my baby is 5 months old, smiling, happy, and healthy, so I'm okay.

And, needless to say, I thought-punched 4 months in the jugular.

It's a good thing he's cute.