Happy Holidays!

In my family we have traditions. Lots and lots of them. When it comes time for the holidays I know just what to expect. It begins with Cousins shopping night. Then Applegate family Christmas the Saturday prior to Christmas. Followed by Christmas Eve dinner with my parents...lasagna. Christmas breakfast is next and then a rest until we head to LBI for a week with my parents and my brother and his family where we ring in the new year with crazy hats and noisemakers. Least I forget all our family photos.

Within the long list of events are little treasures. Memories. Laughing about my cousin Debby never being quite sure what her children would like as we wander around toys r us for the fifth time.  The stories my Uncle George has told a thousand times but we either pretend it is the first time or just flat out enjoy hearing them over and over. Shelling on the beach and trying to determine if that shore store with the things we want to get is actually open and what street it is actually on. Our family Christmas gift that is always red and matching. Walks on the beach. Football. The polar bear swim. The noise. The laughter.

We are so lucky to have a wonderful crazy family. This time of year is precious in its routine and as Brenton grows up he shares in the traditions. He already listens to my cousin Christopher's Christmas album as we drive in the car. Someday he will probably even sing along. He has had his second Applegate family Christmas and was the star of the show with his cousins. He ate icing while I made his gingerbread house. A new tradition. He giggled and stayed relatively still for the family photo. He stayed up way past his bed time. 

I cannot wait for our time at the beach. My mother hopes he will take his first unassisted steps and so do I. I am looking forward to the family photo in our red lumberjack shirts. To reconnected with my brother and my sister in law and my nephews. To hang out with my mom and dad. To just be quiet as a family with a beautiful view of the ocean.

All of this comes after a difficult year but one that is behind us now. It is time to celebrate and be a family and remember those who are gone and expand our family gatherings as well. I say to my sweet baby boy and to all of my friends and family...Happy Holidays!

Walking and Talking

Milestones are a funny thing.  Most are anxiously awaited and when they arrive they are met with great joy and fanfare. Right now I am waiting for two milestones. Walking and talking.

Brenton cruises like a maniac.  Give him something to hold onto and he will walk and walk and walk.  Take it away and plop right on his bottom.  It is adorable and infuriating.

He crawls quickly, so I am not entirely convinced he recognizes that crawling is an inferior form of transportation. But yet if his father or I walk away too quickly and leave him a few steps behind he whimpers and even cries on occasion. Then I allow him to pull himself up on my hands and walk while he clings to each finger.  He will walk holding just one finger on one hand as well.  I am waiting for him to forget and let go and just keep walking.

I think he is cautious when it comes to taking those first unassisted steps.  Not like his mother, who apparently took off running from those early steps at 9 months old.  Perhaps he is more like his father in his deliberate ways.

He babbles like his mother.  Making noises just to hear himself.  I enjoy talking back to him.  Sometimes in words and other time mimicking his sounds. The best part of the babbling are the shrieks of delight mixed with the occasional raspberry.

He says mama all the time, but never to me directly.  He calls many things mama.  The chair is mama, the wall is mama, when he is trying to get someones attention he says mama and occasionally he just repeats it mamamamamamamamamamamamamamamama. Again adorable and infuriating.

He will not say words when asked to say them. He does this only on his own terms much like his walking or lack thereof. I am hoping his next deliberate word is mama so inevitably it will be ball or something else. Each time he says mama to something else I say, "What do you need Brenton?"  I also point to myself and ask, "Who am I?"  I am hopeful the association will be helpful someday resulting in the response "mama". I try.

I truly believe he has said dada twice to my husband.  He touched him and said it clearly. Dada. I count it as his first word.  The first time my husband was asleep, but the second time he heard it and whirled around in bed asking "Did he just?" and I smiled and said. He did!

That moment was very special even though it was not my name he uttered. Each of his milestones have been very special in their own ways. I keep picturing his first steps in my mind and the excitement that will inevitably ensue, but no matter what I imagine it will be better. I know because so far I have not been disappointed by the amazing rush of watching my boy do things I take for granted every day. Walking and talking.

Party Time!

Even before I had a child I always thought parties for very young children were silly. I mean they don’t know, so just keep it simple. I subscribed to that idea even after my son was born. Especially since his first birthday was on Thanksgiving. Then as the day approached I started to have a change of heart.
 

What if he looks back and wonders why he didn’t have a party? Would it matter to him? Would it matter to me if we did not take time to stop and celebrate his first year of existence. And then I started to panic.

 

We have a huge family and all the kids are older. It will be November which clearly rules out any possibility of an outdoor event. So what on earth should we do? A children’s museum, a farm, a bounce around party, an indoor water park, the aquarium. No all of those ideas were limited to a certain number of guests or were entirely cost prohibitive. And then it came to me. Pizza and bowling! Children of all ages, adults included, love bowling. And so began the hunt for the venue.
 

We decided on a private room at a newly renovated establishment where I bowled as a child. How times have changed! I remember the days of smoke filled bowling alleys. No more of that. This place was amazing! Even the main area had leather couches instead of those hard plastic chairs. The days of writing your score on a piece of paper are also long since past. Now its electronic and projected on a big screen. The lights were dimmed for a true galactic bowling experience.

 

The baby, now an official toddler, could have cared less. He was more terrified at first by all the goings on. Most of the time was spent in my arms or his fathers and a bit of time with his grandmother playing patty cake. He was excited about three things, pizza and cake and a wrought iron railing he could cruise along near his friend Logan. Who can blame him? I mean I like pizza and cake too! Walking with friends is also pretty darn cool. 

I took lots of pictures. The important part was that he spent time with my friends and family and everyone had a marvelous time. It was the perfect first birthday party and in the end even the personalized goody bags were a hit. All the time I spent fretting was wasted energy and when I look back I know it was worth every penny because of the smiles on the kids faces as they walked out the door of my beautiful baby boy’s very first birthday party.

 

 

Turkey baby!

My son Brenton had his first birthday on Thanksgiving this year!  It is almost as if the last year was a collage of milestones, memories and many many pictures. I cannot imagine life without my turkey baby. He is what I am absolutely positively most thankful for this year.

He was born two days before Thanksgiving last year and his birthday will always be close to Thanksgiving, so he will always be my one and only turkey baby.  I do not refer to him as such unless it is near the day of his birth.

He doesn't remind me of a turkey because he is such a lean baby.  Perhaps if he was more of a butterball I would be inclined to give the nickname more permenancy.  Still he smiles when I tickle under his chin and I call him my turkey baby.

Two days before his birthday he began feeding himself.  Prior to that he would put the food in his hands and wave it around.  Then finally after a pancake was broken into small pieces and laid out before him on the tray of his high chair did he make the connection.

I wonder now if he realized he was scheduled to shove cake into his mouth in two days.  It was almost as if he knew it was time.  When that time came he did not disappoint.  After a round of "Happy Birthday" tunes and a candle to blow out, he had a plate of small cupcakes after his first real Thanksgiving dinner.

He started with a small taste of chocolate icing and then his eyes lit up.  It was clearly delicious.  He continued to slowly feed himself making more and more of a mess as he went then he furiously shoved his hands into the cupcakes and then into his mouth over and over. 

It was exactly what I had been waiting for. I will not forget it. The feverish moment of joy as he devoured his makshift first birthday cake. Then he began to slow down and gave me the look. My turkey baby was stuffed!!!

 

Full Grown Baby

In the past few months so much has happened. My son has become an FGB. A full grown baby! He has four teeth now. I swore he would never cut that first tooth. He chewed on his hands and drooled and drooled and drooled some more and nothing.

He pulled his ears for a solid two days at which point I made his father take him to the doctor who said no ear infection he is just teething. So I thought for sure in a few days a tooth would appear. Nope, still no tooth.

I asked friends and family who all assured me it was normal and it could take a year or maybe more. It wasn't until he was ten months old that the first small white sliver of enamel made its way through that swollen pink gum.

Then not a month later bam three more all at once. It was a reminder how quickly things change. Now Brenton smiles at me with 4 teeth. Two top two bottom right in the middle.

I love these teeth not just because they were anxiously anticipated and not just because they are my babies first teeth but also because they mean he can chew food and he can bite with them and smile and show them and someday he will brush those teeth and they will fall out and the tooth fairy will come and his permanent teeth will replace them.

My son is growing up and I am reminded to stop and look at his no longer toothless grin and enjoy the changes no matter how small and look back at how he has grown as he approaches his first birthday. Four teeth amazing! My FGB is such a little man. Now if only he would call me mama.

Bee Stings

Today was a perfect fall day.  The perfect day to head to Terhune orchards for a day of family fun.  We wandered around the farm. It turns out the baby is afraid of large furry animals.  He does not like horses or sheep.  He is uneffected by ducks and geese. I guess feathers are less scary than wool or hair.

After a picture of baby and daddy on the big farm tractor we made our way to the food tent.  We reviewed the menu of pork sandwiches and fruit salad and cider and donuts. Then it happened.  A bee.

It landed right on the baby's hand and I quickly went to shoo it away when he moved his hand into mine and he was stung.  Clear as day there was the stinger right in his fourth finger on his right hand. Without thinking I plucked it right out and waited for the crying to commence.  It didn't happen.  He was displeased, but no crying no tears.

I looked at my husband who was concerned.  He is allergic to bees.  It is not a serious allergy, but this is our baby or tiny baby and we did not know what to expect.  We hurried off to find first aid and still the baby was not upset.  Surprisingly I kept calm as well. 

A lovely older gentleman said they had analgesic to take away the sting, but because the baby was not upset or crying he advocated just putting some ice on it instead.  He got us a bag and we put it on his little hand.  It was slightly swollen and he liked the ice.  I am unsure of it was the sound of the crinkling bag or the feeling on his hand but he was soothed either way.

As a mother the fears of the unknown never cease.  Since my husband is allergic to bees we have always worried if that allergy was passed to our son. Today was a reminder that no matter how much I worry I cannot stop things from happening. I can only control my reaction to these events. 

I believe my calmness helped the baby to stay calm as well. I have to say the cider and bits of donut I gave him probably helped his mood as well; however, it is a reminder.  A reminder to react with an unruffled presence of mind as well as swiftly in those moments of uncertainty.

Our day continued and we went through the corn maze.  We watched other families with older children pick their own pumpkins.  I thought about next year and how much fun it will be for Brenton to participate in picking his very own pumpkin.

I had almost forgotten about the bee sting until we came to the candy apples and they were everywhere, so my husband took the baby away and I made the purchase. One final stop at the farm store rounded out the day.  As I put Brenton into his carseat I glanced at his slightly swollen finger and thought about how lucky we were that he is such a brave boy and also that the allergy seemed to have passed him over.

We will never forget his first trip to Terhune.  The same place I spent fall days growing up.  I look forward to next year, but without a bee sting and maybe with more donuts.

Babbling

Moms worry about their children.  It is no secret, but when it comes to development the emails we receive about what to expect and what our children should be doing is sometimes enough to tie you into knots.  They have a disclaimer that each child is different.  Surely this is true and we see it every day, so why do these expectations about progress keep us up at night?

For me it began recently when I realized Brenton is not babbling with consonants.  At 6 months many babies are stringing together mamamamas and dadadadas and bababas.  Baby B is 7 months and although he is verbal he is not babbling in this way. 

I spoke with my husband about my concern about his language development and since he cares for Brenton during the day he began some additional exercises to spurn his progress.  We implemented some baby sign language as well.  He loves the sign for happy baby.  After all he is one happy baby.  We speak to him directly and read to him frequently and have since birth.  Still no babbling. 

He squeals with delight and smiles and laughs in ways that melt my heart.  He also babbles with vowel sounds.  This should be enough, but in the days of increased diagnosis of autism and learning disabilities I find myself jumping to the worst case scenarios.  Just as I get myself into this dark and scary place my son will do something new.  He can stand up and hold onto the table now.

It is incredible how this unrelated task can make me feel better about his development.  Perhaps he is just putting his focus into the physical endeavors.  Regardless I have a happy baby and that should be enough. I wish I could definitively say that I will not have these moments of concern again; however, I cannot make such a bold statement and I can only claim that these mom worries come from a place of deep love for my child and a hope for a relatively easy and happy existence.   

I rest assured that I take joy in his milestones that he has reached and he has surprised me with meeting some ahead of schedule.  Clearly he does things in his own time.  My husband reminds me I will one day look back and long for the days when he was unable to speak.  I laugh and think about my own mother who probably wished for that during my belligerent teen years.  

Secretly I continue to repeat over and over to my beautiful baby B….mamamamama.  It is my shameless plug to say my “name” first.  This will inevitably lead to his first word being dada, but I can live with that as long as he remains my happy baby.

Road Trip: Oriental, NC

After a five hour drive from Charlotte we rolled into the very tiny town of Oriental, North Carolina.  This is where my parents have decided to retire.  They have lived there for 5 years now building their dream home on a lot with a water view.  It is pretty perfect and they love it.

It hit me as we pulled into the driveway the last time I was here the baby that was in the backseat would soon be six months old was only 7 weeks gestation.  It is amazing how quickly the time goes by.  I was so excited to show him his grandparents home.

He was instantly more at ease in the house than he was in the hotel.  He knew this place somehow.  I think he could feel this was his grandparents home.  He knows them well after all they can never stay away from us too long and for that we are grateful.

The next two days were spent lounging and relaxing after our busy time in Charlotte.  It was a welcome relief to just be calm and quiet.  The baby was back to a regular bedtime and even taking naps.  This was a vacation!

Baby B had the chance to meet some of my parents dear friends.  He also went for a ride on the Applecrate my father’s monk 36!  We went to New Bern and had lunch at Persimmon on the water.  He went to the Trawl Door and also the Toucan.  He was all about town and he did so well. 

He turned 6 months old while he was in Oriental and I truly enjoy that this milestone was reached at his grandparents home wearing his Oriental, NC onesie!  The half year is a special one although I marked each monthiversary thus far.  He is so miraculous at this age.  Sitting and smiling and grabbing and giggling while his eyes shine.  We have been through so much already and the journey is just beginning. 

After a fabulously relaxing visit we were back on the road for the 8 hour trip back home.  After 4 stops we arrived at 5pm.  It was a wonderful trip, but so good to be home. 

We put the baby in his jumperoo and he jumped and jumped and jumped. We should have brought that rather than the pack and play in retrospect, but traveling with a baby is a live and learn experience really just like any other day with a baby. We did it. We all survived baby’s first road trip!!!

Ritzy Baby

A few weeks ago my little man went on his first road trip.  Just a few days shy of 6 months old we hit the road for Charlotte NC.  I was working for 3 days and we determined it would be a good time to bring the family to my company’s hub and then swing over to my parents on the coast.

Sunday night we packed up the car with the necessary baby gear and two large suitcases.  Included in the extravaganza of baby gear was the following shameless list of items.  Stroller, Pack and Play, bouncy seat, and all the toys we could manage to bring that would keep him entertained without taking up to much space. We also of course brought the essentials as well.  It just fit! 

Once we were on the road Baby B was content.  He slept for two hours then woke then we went for another 30 minutes without a place to stop and then he went back to sleep, so we pushed on.  My fearless husband behind the wheel making excellent time. 

Finally we could go no farther, so we stopped to feed and change the baby and walk him around in the Virginia rest stop that ate our $20 bill in the vending machine!  No food for us and it was already past noon.  In my hustle and bustle I had forgotten grown up snacks.  But as you know if your nursing the baby is always easily fed, so the rest is moot.

Back on the road for another two hours with a sleeping baby.  It was time to eat even though he still slept.  We stopped at a Hardees and grabbed a quick bite at which point the baby was awake and whamming so changed him and we put the bouncy seat in the front of the car and I made it to the back to entertain his brain and feed him a bottle. 

Another two hours had passed of me shaking rattles and toys and feeding a bottle in between.  Then another stop to feed and change baby B.  He was happy most of the trip save a few bouts of crying that lasted between 5 and 15 minutes.  Not bad for a 9 hour trip with 4 stops.

We rolled into the driveway of the Ritz Carlton in Charlotte, NC a little after 7 just as we planned!  That’s right me and my blended family at the Ritz.  We were met by the valet and the doormen and bellman anxious to assist with the unpacking of our crammed vehicle.  We were already a hit with the staff because of the baby and our long journey. 

I checked in with the baby while the hubs coordinated the rest.  After a quick elevator ride we collapsed onto the king sized bed on the 16th floor and awaited the arrival of our bags.  We made it!

The bags arrived and I unpacked us as quickly as possible.  I must interject that the pack and play was a fail for this trip.  It served only as a changing table and even rarely at that.  Any how we ordered some room service and ate while the baby played.  He was full of unexpelled energy!  Then to bed for all of us.  I was road weary and working the next day.

Off to conduct my first training session since returning from maternity leave was a wonderful reunion with coworkers I’d missed.  I was a little off my game initially when facilitating, but then it all fell into place.  Rolston and the baby were off to the museums, but not before purchasing an $80 belt.  That’s right a very expensive packing oversight.

They went all over Charlotte together. A father and a baby in a stroller.  The African American museum, the museum of the new South, the Betchler, and even the NASCAR hall of fame. They even stopped on the last day to have lunch with me and my colleagues.  Baby B was a star and behaved through the entire meal.

On this final day we ended a little early and as a family we went to the pool at the hotel.  Baby B’s first time “swimming”.  He was unsure at first and then relaxed into the water and kicked his little legs.  He was a natural, enjoying the water just like his parents.

Next was a leisurely meal at my favorite Charlotte restaurant called Harvest Moon.  It’s farm to table and I adore it.  We sat outside in the warm evening air and the owner came out to meet the baby.  She fawned over him and he smiled at her. It was a lovely end to the first leg of our vacation. 

We packed up and went to sleep and in the morning called the bellman to assist with all the gear.  We packed up and again it all just fit.  On our way out of the driveway they called, “Bye Jersey!” and we were off to Oriental, NC to see the grandparents.

Starting Solids

There was a time I thought I would not feed my baby solids until he was at least six months old.  That changed like most of the stringent beliefs I have held about raising my child.  Around the 4 month mark when the pediatrician said I could begin and I was up each night to nurse 4 or more times, I began to come around. 

Everyone told me I would know when he was ready for food. They kept reassuring me, but I didn’t know.  It was not clear to me. Sure he was sitting in his high chair holding his head up and playing with a spoon, but he did not clearly tell me he was ready.  I believe it was I who was ready and we started with organic whole grain rice cereal. 

After the first go we determined it was not time quite yet and waited another week.  What a difference a week made.  He moved the food to the back of his mouth and swallowed leaving barely a remnant on his bib.  He grabbed the spoon and fed himself.  This was what people meant. He was ready.

I was thrilled by his reaction to food and even more that he dropped one nightly nursing session.  He ate his dinner while we ate ours and I was able to have family mealtime.  This time is special where we talk about our days and laugh and feed the baby. We took turns and my husband was finally able to be truly involved in the feeding process without a preceding pumping session.  He could prepare the meal and feed it to him with no involvement from me. 

Now people who know me know that I am a true food snob.  From the time I watched Food Inc I changed my ways and said goodbye to fast food and conventional produce. I became a Whole Foods shopper and frequented local farmers markets.  I do believe that Monsanto may in fact end the world as we know it if we are not careful with our approach to agriculture in this country. So clearly I was planning to make my own baby food.

I purchased the baby bullet after a failed experiment with my larger food processor.  I like having the right tools for the right job and for me the baby bullet is just right.  Carefully steaming carrots and peas and blending them to the perfect consistency for my baby is a joy like it is to prepare a meal for myself and my husband.  I freeze remaining portions and serve them up as needed.

The first vegetable Brenton tasted was carrots.  My kid loves carrots!  The second food was peas and my kid loves peas!  Then came avocado.  My kid does not like avocado!  At least not yet.  I refer to it as our first fail because not only did he spit it out he also vomited.  So no more avocado for Baby B for now.

There are so many rules to feeding babies that I never knew about.  You have to feed them only one new thing at a time to watch for allergies.  Common sense maybe, but it escaped me until I had my own child.

So far he has eaten, rice cereal, oatmeal, carrots, peas, sweet potato, banana, avocado, peaches, pears, prunes, and blueberries.  As a side note when my baby eats blueberries it looks oddly like a murder has taken place and it is best of there are no clothes on except his bib. He likes to try to “help” with his hands causing the food to cover his face and arms.  Sometimes it will wind up on his forehead or in his nose. I just laugh at him and he laughs back at me.

I can say I do not believe we have a picky eater, but my husband and I are adventurous when it comes to food. Only time will tell if he follows in our footsteps. Until then we will introduce new foods one at a time and see how it goes. Who knows maybe one day he will even try avocado again and like it next time

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Unassisted Sitting

There are so many times I have said that I cannot wait until baby B does this or that, but the truth is I can wait.  I can wait for him to walk and talk and all those things that lie ahead. For now I love him just as he is, a sweet chubby baby who coos and sighs and yawns in ways that melt my heart.  And the giggle, forget about it! 

The other day as we played with his toys while he was on his tummy, I watched him push up on his chunky little arms and kick his legs and thought that soon he would be crawling.  My husband says he told me this was coming, but I am somehow in denial each time he does something new that the next something new is right on the horizon.  So we moved to baby sit ups like we always do and sometimes he pushes all the way to standing.  My boy is strong! Having no real frame of reference for baby strength this is my perception, but a few others have confirmed it as well.

I decided to see if he could sit without any help from me.  This milestone is unassisted sitting.  I let go and leaned forward slightly to rest on his hands to steady himself. To my surprise he did not topple over like he usually does.  He miraculously and simply just sat there.  I called to his father and said, “Look look, he is sitting.” Sure enough he looked up at his dad and smiled. He knew he had accomplished something new and special.

We all smiled.  This was really impressive.  Our baby can sit all by himself.  Now we still have to get him into his seated position.  I cannot imagine what it will be like when he sits up on his own. 

Rolling is old news.  We have seen him roll from belly to back since he was 3 weeks old.  Yes that is right, our baby is amazing.  We have it on video.  I nearly showed our pediatrician when she laughed when I told her that he could roll, but I saved that as a special gift to myself.  Only a few close family members and friends knew our baby was amazing and that was just fine with me.

When I think about all the milestones he has reached over the past 5 months I am amazed.  It is just as astonishing as looking at his tiny sleeper that he wore home from the hospital.  They grow up so fast.  You hear that all the time for a reason because it is true.  Watching them grow and change is like watching a miracle, but if I could take a minute to freeze time I would do that here and there just to make sure I take it all in and remember how I felt in that moment.  The amazement, the wonder, the pride, the joy! 

I will always remember that on April 19, 2012 at 3:57pm my son Brenton, just sat there!

Screaming

Screaming.  It’s a new thing my wonderful baby has learned to do. He is not just good at it he is amazing.  His talents far outweigh those of other babies.  He is advanced!

We head up the stairs at about 7:15 and begin our before bed routine.  Off with the clothes from the day. On with a new fresh diaper and a warm fuzzy sleeper. Next I nurse him in the rocker and when he starts to appear drowsy I put on relax and sleep. 

Baby apps are very useful for many things but this white noise miracle is important.  Nightly I give up my phone for my baby to sleep to the sounds of the rainforest, whale sounds, crickets chirping or the sound of the ocean and always a beating heart in the background. He sleeps and it allows us to watch television with the sound above ten.

This was fool proof until two nights ago when it began. The screaming. He specifically likes to start the moment I put him down to sleep. After the relax and sleep has taken hold I transfer him to his rock and play beside our bed.  We are co-sleepers and never thought we would be. I was all about putting him in the crib by 6 weeks and now he is 4 months and one week old.

The minute his angelic face touches the rock and play the eyes pop open and the screaming commences. I rock him and still it continues.  I talk to him in a soothing voice. No luck.  I pick him up and rock him in my arms and he will stop for a moment and then start again.  Turn on the magic ceiling fan and it will subside momentarily. We gave him gas drops and teething tablets and checked him up and down for something that could be causing this terrible drama. There was nothing to be found.

So I gave up.  Or should I say I gave in. I went and got some ice cream while my husband manned the fort. We were in this together now.  I put the baby in the bed and got in next to him and ate my ice cream with the TV on.  He likes to watch TV and we do not usually let him, but these were desperate times.  He calmed slightly and began rubbing his eyes.  The screaming was winding down after 2 hours.

I nursed him one more time and then he was asleep in the bed next to me.  I swore I would never bed share and that co sleeping was my limit, but honestly most of my woulds and shoulds have gone out of the window so it really was no surprise to me that this also fell by the way side.

A screaming baby will make you do things you never thought you would ever do.  I wonder if they know this and in the baby meetings they discuss how to manipulate us for their own amusements.  Clearly exhaustion plays a role as well given my musings.  I would pay him to quiet and sleep if it would work, but alas all I can do is what I can do and bribes do not work and neither does reasoning.  So I better stockpile some ice cream and get ready to bed share until this phase is over.  I hear it only lasts until he is about 10!

Guardian Angels

Brenton lost his paternal grandfather before he was born.  I was 6 months pregnant and stuck in the Charlotte airport trying to catch an early flight home to be at his deathbed with Rolston and the family.  I found a rocking chair in D terminal and sat and rocked and waited for my not so much earlier flight home.  I made it.  I said my goodbyes before he passed that night a little after midnight.  He lived a very full life to the age of 98. It was a peaceful passing and it was ok because we knew he was comforted knowing our boy was on the way and would continue his family name. There was comfort that Brenton had a very wise and loving guardian angel.

Two weeks later my beloved dog Tess got sick.  I knew it was time to say more goodbyes.  I was devastated.  She was my very first baby before I even dreamed of baby B.  I was so sad they would not get to meet each other. Tess was there for so many major milestones in my life. She was there when I moved out of my parents home into my first apartment. She was there when I graduated from college. She was there when I got engaged and then later when I got married.  She was there every day in between loving me unconditionally. I was so lucky to have that wonderful creature in my life for 14 wonderful years. Brenton gained another angel to watch over him.

Now Brenton is three and a half months old and he has lost his paternal grandmother suddenly and without warning.  This is by far the most difficult loss for all of us.  My husband was completely unprepared to say goodbye to his mother and father in less than a year.  The same year he welcomed his first born son into the world.  Bittersweet does not even begin to address the emotional impact. 

GMom met Brenton when he was born and we all spent his first Christmas Eve night together. She held him and changed his diaper and spoiled him with snuggles and kisses like all grandmothers do.  We gave her a picture of him in a silver frame. She gave him gifts and some money for something special. “Maybe a toy box,” she said.

We really did not understand that would be the last time they would spend together. It was the last time we would all spend together except for a brief visit to drop something off one day.  We believed we had much more time, but we did not.

I have spent time wishing I had taken pictures that Christmas Eve night, but I was busy enjoying the moments.  I was watching our niece play with the toys we bought her.  I was watching my husband play with her and think about the days when B is older and how exciting it will be to have the family together then.  I didn’t think for one moment about the matriarch not being present.

I know she was a good mother to her son and her son loved her very very much. I know she was a good mother because her son treats me so well. I read once somewhere that if the man in your life treats you like a princess it is because he was raised in the arms of a queen.

That she is gone is still unbelievable in it’s cold truth. Somehow we will be sure she lives in our son’s memory even though he never got to know her. He will know at first she disapproved of his father and I dating, but later supported us like no one else.  He will know she danced at our wedding with a big mother of the groom smile in a navy blue dress. He will know her kind spirit, but she also liked to gossip here and there. He will know her quirks.  He will know her strengths. He will know she was important in our lives. He will know her family history. Most importantly he will know how much she loved him and that she watches over him.

Realizations

This week has been all about giving new things a shot. Baby B spent some time outside.  It was his first time being outside in the air and sun for more than the time it takes to get from the house to the car and from the car to whatever indoor place where we were headed.  He liked it, but it was windy so it did not last too long. I decided I cannot wait for spring, so he can play outside in the grass and immediately realized we need to reseed the lawn and get our lawnmower serviced.

We tried a new position for tummy time on the couch facing out. He tolerated it far longer than the floor method. He must like the view. So we also rotated his position when he lays on the couch.  He promptly rolled onto his side from his back which made me realize we have a whole basket of toys that he was not ready to play with a few weeks ago, but we might want to check and see what he might like now. 

The ball Grammie bought for him is a big hit.  It is large and geodesic in nature and he desperately tries to fit it in his mouth although it will not fit not one little bit.  The drums he got for Christmas from his aunt, uncle and cousins are also new and exciting.  They play music on their own. He cannot push down hard enough to make sounds but he waves his arms up and down as if to play them. His father does it and he is turning into a wonderful mimic. That made me realize he might like the monkey I bought him before he was born on the day we learned our baby was a boy. He did.  He likes it better when his daddy does a funny monkey voice.

Brenton also tried some assisted sitting.  We discovered he fits perfectly in the corner of the couch and is happy as a clam just relaxing.  Next we tried sitting in the highchair.  He really enjoys sitting up watching us eat our lunches. I think he appreciates being a part of the action. We gave him a purple and pink baby spoon on his tray to play with and he wanted to grab it, but showed no real interest in using it yet.  Thank goodness because mommy is so not ready for that transition. Then I realized soon we will need to get baby friendly bowls and spoons since certainly the one solitary purple and pink spoon we got for our niece when she was young will not suffice.

Whenever we try something new with baby B it seems to lead to some type of realization that a next step is coming. We must prepare, we must try, we must do or we must remember to prepare, try or do. I realize another thing.  The truth is I am never really prepared for the next steps at least not in the boy scout sense of preparedness. I just ride the wave of trying things out and feel the ups and downs.

This is not at all how I thought it would go, but again early on I understood I needed to soften.  I had to allow for uncertainty.  Baby B’s arrival brought balance to my life even in the upheaval of such a dramatic change in my existence. I realize life will never be the same and I realized I am glad it is not.

Measuring Time

My life is now quantified in a completely different manner now. During pregnancy I measured the time in weeks.  These weeks tracked the beginning of my baby’s existence. The first few days of his life were counted in my sleepless hours watching him sleep, then measured in weeks waiting for new milestones that those baby emails promised, and now finally at three months we begin to count months.

Today he is three months old.  He is now giggling, but still no belly laughs. Yesterday he made and L sound which was new and probably more exciting to me than it was to him. He also loves his hands very much. He could stare at them all day if they are not in his mouth.

It is all about baby B’s timeline in so many ways. First it is his daily routine primarily managed by my husband. When does he eat, when does he sleep and when does he play? It is all about his schedule in the moment trying to keep track of it all.  It was a group effort helping each other determine what works best. Ultimately Brenton decides.

In his first days of life Brenton was only wetting a diaper every twelve hours.  Those hours felt like an eternity because a baby is supposed to have wet diapers and if not something could be wrong.  Thankfully all was well and finally he went and went and has never stopped going regularly.  Even now if it has been too long since the last one a poopy diaper can make my whole day. It is truly surprising and gross, but very true. Another new truth is if he is content then all is right with the world.

Spending time watching him grow and develop is fundamentally fulfilling.  Me time became far less important.  Perhaps this shift occurs with all mothers. Perhaps I worry I will miss something. I count the minutes at the end of the workday until I can see his sweet face again. When he nurses at night, minutes feel like seconds as I enjoy our quiet time together.  Hours feel like minutes as I try to capture his perfect smile on film. And a minute feels like hours as I watch the look of wonder, excitement and sometimes even confusion on his face when he is presented with something new. Time is no longer linear.

Moments are so much more important now than they ever have been in the past. Time is so precious and it goes by so quickly.  After 9 months waiting for him to arrive and now after three months of his life, that is one full year. It was a glorious year. A year I rank as my best so far. A year I will never forget.  Still it went by in a flash.

Playdate

There is nothing quite like spending an afternoon with a great friend to make me feel more balanced. As a plus she has three children and the youngest is a boy only 6 months older than baby B and a girl Izzy who is two and a half. Alex is 8 and the oldest. She is the first child that I loved outside of my family.  Today was Brenton's first playdate with them.

Watching children observe each other is such a unique experience and the intrigue on their tiny faces is so clear.  Who is this new visitor and most important do I like him?  They stare at each other and we study the reactions.

Immediately Alex is doing anything to be near the baby.  She has been waiting for this day and I enjoy her excitement in meeting him. She makes faces and when he smiles she shouts, "He smiled. I made Brenton smile."  I understand her sentiment. When he smiles for me I feel that same childlike glee.

Izzy is eating her cereal and she sees him at first from a distance.  She is prepared as she has her younger brother.  She is accustomed to sharing attention and if needed she knows how to get what she wants.  Occasionally she points at the baby and says LoLo and BeBe.  She is figuring everything out. She quickly hugs the baby and then moves on to the interesting diaper bag I brought. It contains a hairbrush and she must have it. When her mother holds Brenton she reaches for me and I bring her into my lap.  Fair is fair apparently.

It is immediately clear that the boys will like each other. Baby B is big for his age and Logan is rough and tumble. It will be a good match. I see a future for these two to be sure. They are talking back and forth in baby language.  They exchange knowing smiles. Male bonding occurs.

Until today I did not closely watch children interact because I had no vested interest in the outcome. I felt something important was happening as my son was socializing with other tiny beings.  He was certainly curious.  I did not sense fear.  He was open to them.  He was at ease and so was I.

With each new experience he has I have a new one as well seeing things through the eyes of a mother now. I remind myself to keep track and take note because these firsts will only happen once. Today was another first, the first playdate.

Be my valentine

We have already had several first holidays with our son. Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years Eve, and now it is Valentine's day. A commercialized holiday to be sure, but the central idea is important. At the heart of this day is tell those in your life how much you love them maybe even pick someone special to be your valentine. Really what could be better?

I remember as a child receiving a special gift from my parents each year.  When I reached school it was also cards from my classmates. From my boyfriend in high school who would later become my husband it was a single red rose, a card and perhaps even chocolates in a heart shaped box.

This year I returned to work on Valentine's day. It was my first day back from maternity leave and although I work from home usually I had to go into the office to have my access reestablished. Of all my Valentine's days passed it was by far the least romantic, but also the most loving.

When I arrived home my husband and son were waiting for me.  I did not get a card or flowers or even candy in a heart shaped box, but I did not need any of that.  I have everything I ever wanted and more and nothing can tell me I am loved more than the look in their eyes when I returned.

In the evening I fed my son and he fell asleep in my arms and I could smell that sweet baby smell he has. I whispered in his ear, "Be my Valentine?" He snuggled closer as if to answer yes mommy I will be your valentine. Next year he may even be able to say the word yes and the year after that he might even give me a red scribble paper and the following year something he made special for me in preschool and then a homemade construction paper heart that is perfectly imperfect. No matter how he decides to show me he loves me he will always be forever my sweet valentine!

Can you say oh?

My new favorite sound is the sound of my sons voice. When he vocalizes even small sounds it is music to my ears and if he adds his sweet smile it is enough to make me the happiest mommy in the whole wide world. When he stirs during a nap I cannot wait until he wakes so we can have one of our post nap conversations. In his baby voice it goes something like this.

"Hello there Baby B. Who needs his diapie changed? Is it you?" I ask.
"oh goo oh", he says.
"Can you say oh?"
"oh oooh oh"
Can you say mamamama?"
"oh"
"Can you say dadadadada?"
"goo oh goo", he shrieks.
"Tell me a story B," I plead.
"oh oh ooooh oh," he responds.

According to my mother these conversations are very important to his development and tells me that when I was young I had a large vocabulary because she had such conversations with me.  She was intent that I would speak at an early age.  I did and I never stopped talking.  My first word was fringy. When I was one I exclaimed, "Mommy I need a cookie." I know these things about myself because she told me and I enjoy hearing these tales of my infancy and her young motherhood.

I see myself in her and I always have and now that we share another bond as mothers that is stronger. I know now that even though I was unaware of her methods of child rearing that I follow in her footsteps in many ways. I wonder if it is intrinsic to my nature to do this because she did.

My husband has these same chats with our son in his own words in his own way. I wonder if someday our son will have these same exchanges with his children, our grandchildren. Will he know that we spoke to him in the same way with the same inflections and repetition anxiously awaiting his response? Will he feel the same anticipation? I know he will because in some way or another we all do this with our children because they are the most exciting and intriguing creatures in our worlds.

I look forward to all of our conversations in the future just like those we have now when he wakes from his nap. At some point I will tell him about his first word and his first sentence just as my mother did with me. I can only hope he cherishes them as much as I will.

Perfect imperfections

My son has two completely different ears. One is close to his head and very small and the other sticks out and is larger in every respect.  One curls around more at the top and comes to a point and one earlobe is distinctly fatter than the other.  It took me approximately eleven weeks to notice this and during that time I stared at him almost constantly.

To me this phenomenon is his first recognizable perfect imperfection.  I adore his mismatched ears as much as I adore every other part of him. I might be the only one to ever notice or it may be the first thing he is teased about on the playground. Either way this idiosyncrasy is his. I look forward to discovering these nuances throughout his life. These traits that make him uniquely himself. 

When he had his first cold I heard him sneeze like his father and before he cries he makes the same face as I do before I cry. I enjoy these similarities to both of us. I have questions about if he will throw left handed like I do or will he be a reader like his father; however, I also look forward to more characteristics that will differentiate him from us.

As his personality blooms like a flower revealing itself petal by petal folding open and outward to the world, I will get glimpses into his soul. Watching as he develops is astounding. Physical and emotional milestones have come and gone and so many remain.

I am now waiting to hear his first laugh. I know this moment will stop me in my tracks and burn into my brain as a forever memory. Until I get that laugh I will wait continuing to stare at him just as I have since the day he was born perhaps noticing more of my perfect little boy's perfect imperfections.



 

He could even be president

As the wife of a black man I have always known his existence is fundamentally different from mine because of the manner in which the world regards him. He has shared many things with me and I have observed them as well. I myself have occasionally been treated differently based on who I love.

I clearly remember the day Obama was elected president not just because it was a monumental step forward, but it was also personally relevant. There are so many different hopes and dreams you have for your children. The dreams begin long before birth and even before conception. Until that day no child of color could ever hear the words, "One day you could be president" and know it to be true.

Watching the speech I knew the world was changing for the better.  I shed tears of joy that night. New things were possible for me and for everyone. Most importantly for the first time in my life I actually thought about having a child and that shift forever changed me.

When I was pregnant I considered what my dream would be for my son.  Happiness of course, but this is a dream and a dream should be big and I remembered the night of the election and the enormity of how I felt in that moment. I thought about the day he will ask me what he should be when he grows up. I can earnestly look him in the eye and tell him he can be whatever he wants to be. He could even be president.

Baby B, so many nicknames

My husband and I met when we were kids and we didn't think about the names of our future children. As the years passed we began to contemplate baby names.  Some names I adored and when I presented them he vehemently vetoed all of them as I did with his selections. One day about two months prior to becoming pregnant I said, "What about Brenton for a boy?" To my surprise he said, "Yeah, I like Brenton." That was it, we had our boy's name.

I swore I would not resort to calling him anything other than Brenton and certainly not Brent. I love the name Brenton. I am sure I always will. Throughout pregnancy I called him Brenton from the time we were told it's a boy.

Fast forward to his birth. My perfect little boy arrived and I rarely call him Brenton. I have instead resorted to a plethora of nicknames established at different times for different reasons.

Here is the current list: Baby B, B(simple and often used by my husband), Beaner(my brother called me this as a child), Beanut or Beanut Peanut(often used by me during playtime), Banimal(his superhero name), B plus(his street name), B note(his blues name), Mini B, and finally...Smiling Tiny Man.

You will note that Brent is not on the list!