Well, that went a little quicker than I expected. Just a little more food and off into dreamland for the little dude. It's the late evening naptime he started doing literally a few days ago. It must mean he's growing! I find it hilarious to say that. "Oh, he must be having a growth spurt." Truth is, he's ALWAYS having a growth spurt! We just witness different stages, like being awake because his poor little joints hurt him. Or like sleeping as if he's never slept before because his brain is developing. Lately, we've been in the sleeping stage. It's really on and off, though, because little man is in the beginning stages of teething. It's really sporadic, but he'll get all the right symptoms- drooling, chewing on EVERYTHING including his fists, my fists, his bottles, our fingers, pacifiers, blankets- pretty much anything he can gum, he's got in his mouth, loss of appetite, fussiness etc. It will last a day or two, and then that subsides and he is a ravishing beast for food! Some days, it's all we do. It used to feel that way when I was nursing, but now that he's moved onto formula, well, he really eats a TON! More than we ever imagined.
I stopped keeping count of how many ounces he was eating, and I stopped keeping track of the last time he ate. I found it to be very stressful, and found myself stressing over how much formula we should bring out with us. What a silly thing to stress about! We make the dang bottles, and we bring the dang bottles, and if he's dang hungry, he'll eat the dang bottles! Dang simple as that.
His weight seems to be directly in line with his weekly age. For instance, Daddy took Dominic in for his two-month shots. Dominic was about 10 and a half weeks at the time, and he came home weighing in at 10 pounds, 8 ounces- exactly 10 and a half pounds! At his appointment tomorrow, he'll be 12 and a half weeks, and I would bet that he's going to come home weighing twelve pounds and change. He sure feels like it, the little chunker. He's starting to get those chubby thigh creases, yet his thighs aren't thunder thighs just yet. I don't know that they'll ever be, really; as much as that kid likes to stand up while being supported, his thigh muscles already have that line in the outside of his thigh and they're hard as a rock! Body builder? Not yet. Future body builder? I think not.
I've been dead set on getting him to say mama, or mommy, or some form of the name he'll forever know me as. I sit with him, I play with him, I smile at him and I talk to him, and then I say "mama. Mama. MOOOOMMMYYYY. Mom. Mum. MUM. Maaam. mamamamamamamamamamamama." He always talks back, but typically it's with an, "Mmmgah." Or, "Bah." Or, "wbwbbbwbwbwbbwbww" (my way of typing the noise he makes when he speaks with his mouth sealed shut).
However, something has happened that is forever transforming the way I feel when he actually does utter out the word mama.
We were just hanging out, and like normal, I was trying to get him to say mama. Well, we finished that up and he was laying in his play gym and he started to get angry (or hungry, but both are really one in the same). I got up to make his bottle, and the angrier he got, the louder he got. Finally, I finished and went to pick him up. I said, "Mommy's got you bea." And he started to cry right then and there, and he cried out, "MAAAAAMAAAAAAAAAA." Did I cry too? Almost. It broke my heart completely in two. I hurried as quickly as I could to give him that bottle. When he cries now? Mama. When he cried at his two-month shots? Daddy heard lots of mama's there. When his teeth are bothering him? "Mama." And today, when he was laying on his mat hanging out and wanted to be picked up? "Mama." I kid you not. Now, whether or not he is associating "mama" with me is another story. But he most certainly has got it down pat to utter out mama or mah!" All the critics out there can say, "It's mere coincidence." I wonder how many days you've spent with my son that you'd be able to make that determination. My son, as I've said before, has a 1,000,000 IQ, and no one can tell me any different. =)
Lastly for this note, my son is crying tears now. The first time I saw that, I ... well, I don't really know how I felt. To be honest, I don't remember what I was doing. I think I was in the kitchen, I think h... oh. Now I remember. I had a case of the 'you're a terrible mom's'. Making this story public may shed some light on just how many mistakes, no matter how small, a mother can make when raising her boy. =(
I'll make that it's own, special blog. Just one moment...
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