First Lost Tooth

The day that Georgia lost her first tooth was not nearly as traumatic as the day that she came home a month earlier reporting that it was loose.  WHAT?!  Talk about no need for further evidence that your firstborn is growing up.  I wasn't ready for that news, but you roll with it, right?

I should clarify - I was talking about myself, obviously.  None of the above was traumatic to Georgia.  It was all 1000% exciting.  Exciting for the tooth to be loose.  Triple exciting to check the mail everyday for her special tooth pillow that she picked out and then anxiously awaited like it was a secret decoder ring.  Infinity exciting to have the tooth fall out in the parking lot of Chipotle on the first day of Spring Break and then be awarded a free kid's meal on account of such good fortune.

As you'll see from the pictures, Georgia negotiated a deal with the tooth fairy who kindly left her $1.00 in quarters, two of which, much to her delight, were Georgia quarters.


Showing off for her sister.

Okay, I have to throw in this picture of June who insisted at the time that I take it. Amidst me searching the pavement for the tooth, Waylon managed to scratch June pretty hard. I'm sparing you the fresh-out-of-Georgia'-mouth bloody gap pictures, but suffice it to say that for a few minutes there it appeared as though the children had been in a bar fight.


What follows is actually the "Before" photo, taken when the tooth first became loose. Georgia was already sporting a pretty big gap before the tooth fell out.

"After":


This last shot is for Georgia, who wanted me to photograph the tooth, and my friend Susan, who apparently likes seeing teeth and will therefore be glad that I did. Ewwww. You're welcome.

This felt like a big milestone for both parents and child! And the next tooth is already loose...

Look Who's Writing Her Name Now

Way to go, June!

Waylon's Hair

I feel hopelessly behind on blogging, and I know that I could just skip it and move on, but you know, CUTE STUFF HAS HAPPENED. And of course, not blogging it doesn't mean it didn't happen or whatever, but hello, THE GIRLS WERE FLOWER GIRLS. So I have to get to that. Most of the rest of it is just everyday junk that no one really cares about, except that I do for some reason. Blogging is my way of freezing time, living life twice.

If I posted entries every day would I catch up? Who knows. The thing is, with so much travel this spring, I'm not just behind on blogging, I'm behind on everything. Paying bills, putting away winter clothes, returning phone calls, you name it.

If I could hang a big "OUT OF ORDER" sign on this blog I might, because I'm having trouble putting together anything logical or cohesive. In an effort to get back into the swing of things, I'm just going to declare that I don't care and dive back in with the important topic of: Waylon's hair.

Wait - let me take a step back for a minute. Can we discuss the milestones that have flown by unnoticed? Something about the marker of my dad's illness has really brought into relief how much Waylon has changed. 11 weeks passed from the day my dad entered the hospital to the day he died, and in that same time Waylon went from a puree-eating, wobbly sitter with no teeth, to a sitting, crawling, pulling up baby with two top and two bottom teeth who eats like a horse. He got a clean bill of health at his nine month check-up, where he was also declared a string bean bobble head after logging in in the 25-50th percentile for weight, but 95th+ percentile for length and head circumference.

Aaaaaand, speaking of his head...(like that segue?) Let's discuss his hair. Everyone agrees it needs a cut. I'm just scared of him going from looking like a baby to looking like a lawyer overnight. (I can say that because I technically still am one, right?) So, before any scissors graze on his gorgeous locks, let's take a look back and admire the crazy. Is it curly? Is it straight? Is it brown? Is it turning blond? Is it a wig? You be the judge.

Straight:




Wavy?:




Freshly washed and extra fluffy:




Curly:


{His secret? Heat, humidity, and a touch of product called "I Can't Believe it IS Spit-Up"}


Top-Knot:



The wet look:




Close-ups of the windblown look: (these crack me up)



The wet and windblown look:




The possible toupee?


{Oh, don't eat sand, bro!}





ETA: Oh! I forgot to add one more from back in March.  The mohawk:

Call the Exterminator!

I child-proofed the house, but I think they're getting in through the baseboards! 





Ahhh, Junie.  So willing to go along with whatever anyone else thinks sounds fun.  What a wonderful spirit.   



Waylon has mastered backwards and is working on forwards.

Dental News: Joe's dad retired. Congrats, Grandpa Dave! Coincidentally, Waylon sprouted two teeth in the last two weeks.  Eek!  My baby's growing up.  

Denial

I am so not ready for this. He started flat on his back on the rug and scootched (sp? scooched?) all the way under the kitchen table. He's been doing it for a couple weeks so I guess it's really happening, huh?

{{Sigh.}} Mobility.


People, this dude still needs a spotter to sit!

Some Stuff About Waylon at 6 Months

Ack! I am just under the wire because in a matter of days Waylon will be 7 months old. Forget the post I was going to do with lots of cute pictures of Waylon that haven't made the blog over time; maybe I will eventually get to that, and maybe I won't.

Instead, here are a few words from Joe and I that attempt to sum up Waylon at 6 months old, and three pictures that do the job.

• Running errands with Waylon is like running errands with a live Cabbage Patch doll.

• Joe's words upon returning from our conservatory outing were, "Could he be any more low key?" 

• He's totally "hip-able" now.  The perfect size and stability level for toting around on my left hip.  (Always the left.  Why do I have a baby-carrying side?  Does everyone have a natural baby-carrying side?  If I try to force the right, it does not work at all.)

• He's not even waving at the idea of sitting up.  Based on how quickly and compactly he folds in half if you try to prop him in a sitting position, I'm assuming his sport may one day be the second guy on the sled in two-man bobsled. 

• He's so much more patient and tolerant at this age than his sisters ever were.  Must be all that extra "love" he gets from Georgia and June. 

•  He's still taking three naps a day and doesn't have a very set schedule, but it's slowly becoming more predictable.

• Thanks to (not-oft-discussed here) sleep training that began in earnest in November, he's now usually sleeping from about 7:30 to 7:30.  OH YES THANK YOU GOD.  (And now of course I fear that he's going to get up to eat three times tonight just because I wrote that.) 

•  He's a voluminous puker. 

• He's pretty darn cute, wouldn't you agree? 

• Did we mention that he's easy going?  Or maybe he just really loves border terriers.  

Oh, one more thing.  It's quite easy to make him laugh.  I'm pretty convinced that baby laughter adds years to your life, so you can thank me later for this video, if you can get past my horrible hair, that is. 

Liquids and Solids

The first part of February was a bit rough on me. I broke my pinkie toe in a bar fight while picking up toys. Then there was the dermatological testing that involved plastering every square inch of my back in medical tape, plus orders not to shower, nurse the baby, or exercise for 5 days. I realize these were not real problems in the grand scheme of things, but when you're gimping around like a robot feeling like you've been covered in papier mache, it tends to make you a bit cranky.  Thank you to the Aunt Brigade for helping me get through the week!

I suppose there was no need for me to share all of that as lead in to the fact that the girls enjoyed a week of feeding Waylon bottles while I pumped and dumped, but oh well, there you go.    





Waylon started solids a few days after his six month birthday, because that's how long it took to find a time when he was awake, hungry, and Joe was home to do the honors.  I had originally hoped for everyone to be there for this momentous occasion, but I became concerned Waylon would never get a chance to eat if we waited for the stars to align perfectly, so alas, June was permitted to sleep through it.  You're probably laughing at me for considering it a momentous occasion, but I have to say that to me starting solids always has been.  After nourishing a baby inside my body and out for so long, it feels like sending him out into the world, the first teeny tiny cutting of the apron strings in a way.

So far, it appears that Waylon much prefers grabbing the spoon to actually ingesting food, and he's got quite the grip.




{This day was a nice example of why we call him "Anemone" sometimes; love that wispy sea anemone hair swaying in the breeze!}



Now is when I need you to tell me that this boy will actually eat someday.  I vaguely recall it taking several weeks for June to get the hang of it, too, but memory fades, so I am currently in that paranoid period of impatience where I am wondering how to get from 3 spoonfuls all over his bib to 3 squares in his belly.  How did we do that again last time?

First Smile!

Not first actual smile, but his first grin caught on camera.