Oliver has been laughing for several weeks, but only in the past couple days has he unloaded some really loud belly laughs. It was hard to catch, but I got him laughing last night at Molly. He really got a kick out of watching her wagging tail while she ate. Anyway, thought you all would enjoy hearing Oliver at his finest:
This is an open letter to my wife regarding Oliver’s most recent foray into food: prunes.
A great person (OK, my grandma, who is great by the way)
once countless times told us that we should eat prunes because they will keep us regular. Well, her wise words appears to be evident with our son as well.
Yes, the prunes you gave him yesterday went through his tiny body like a Fiber One bar through an unsuspecting 32-year-old. Actually, much much quicker. Yes, that paddy I found in his diaper this morning was, well, quite stinky.
The dry-heaving you heard this morning? That was me. I can’t stand the smell — I’ll be completely honest with you. I don’t think I can handle another prune-based diaper mess. So let’s switch to other, less digestible foods. I think he poos enough on his own and doesn’t need that extra something-something. Don’t you agree?
Since we’re on the same page, let’s stick with safe food choices like green beans and bananas. Just say “no” to prunes. … Please.
We took Oliver to the beach for the first time on Saturday. Well, sort of — it was the beach at Creve Coeur Park in Maryland Heights, Mo. So nothing too special.
It was a nice day, with a temperature in the low 80s and low humidity. So we packed up a picnic lunch and headed up there. OK, so it wasn’t quite that easy. Did you know that it now takes us about 10 times as long to get out of the house as it did before we had Oliver? Seriously, we thought of a million things while getting ready and even had to run back in the house a couple times before backing down the driveway. Yeesh!
So where was I? Oh yeah, so we headed to the park. We brought Molly along as well. Once there, we put Oliver in his stroller and found a nice table to make our own. Doesn’t this look pleasant:
After eating, we took the dog over to the beach area and let her swim. Sarah and I always get a kick out of watching Molly excitedly and awkwardly swim, but Oliver didn’t seem as amused. Here’s a short video of Molly and Oliver from the beach:
We then took a short walk. After packing back into the car, we decided to stop by this little farm on the way home to pick up some fresh peaches and other goodies. However, as I picked Oliver out of his car seat to carry him into the stand, Sarah noticed gobs of brown stuff (yes, poop) oozing out of Oliver’s outfit. So we had to change him. And man, was it disgusting. Let’s just say that we have been giving him a couple different foods lately and the colored mess he left looked like one of those side-by-side shakes from Steak n Shake. Yuck. But we did make it in, and the peaches are delicious.
What a fun, but tiring day.
As readers, friends and family already know, our boy has a full head of hair. It’s a lot of hair. The pictures don’t usually give it justice. Maybe this next one will. It was taken a few weeks ago, during Oliver’s “punk rock” phase (OK, during bath time, but whatever):
When dry, his hair was starting to curl up pretty good on the sides. It was cute, but Sarah felt it was time for a little trim. Plus, she wanted some hair for the baby book she’s putting together. Sarah’s mom did the honors, giving Oliver his first haircut.
Though it sort of looks like crime scene evidence, here’s the lock of hair (notice how much length was removed):
His clean-cut look is nice, but he still has such long hair. Here’s how he looks now:
Notice the difference? I know, it’s pretty subtle. Either way, it’s pretty cool that he’s now been through the haircut experience. Next thing, I’ll be taking him with me to see my favorite Romanian hairstylist Louise in Maryland Heights every four or five weeks for a real haircut. Scary!
Oliver’s been a little cranky this past week for some unknown reason. Well, the reason was unknown until we did a little digging around in his mouth on Friday. Yes, here’s a good one for the baby book: Oliver cut his first tooth on 8/8/08. Check out this picture of the incisor breaking through his gums:
I’ve shown this picture to a few relatives who think it looks like something perverse and not a mouth/tooth at all. So as further evidence, I submit a picture of the awkward (and, to me, somewhat hilarious) pose in which I held Oliver’s mouth open for the tooth pictures to be taken:
It was like our own little makeshift dentist chair. Anyway, I haven’t looked anything up, but it seems kind of early for a baby to be cutting teeth. I mean, he just turned 5 months old a few days ago. For those with babies, how old was were yours when he or she cut his first tooth? Any advice on how to keep the crankiness to a minimum?
Oliver turned 5 months old today. It’s hard to believe that much time has passed. He still doesn’t sleep through the night, as most of you all know, but when he does sleep it’s the cutest thing ever (a guy can say that, right?).
Need evidence? Check out this picture taken using the “nightshot” mode on our camera:
He’s the reason that I get up early each morning and, though extremely tired, keep my head up and a smile on my face (most days). He’s still so innocent and sweet, and he’s starting to laugh at and interact with me a lot more. I’m sure these next five months will be even more amazing. Can’t wait.
Figures that today, the hottest day of the year, was among the few days during which our power went out. I got home and it was 85 degrees in our bedroom. Ouch!
I called Ameren and was told that our power would be back on by 8 p.m. To beat the heat, we went out for dinner and then hit Target to pick up a few items.
Thankfully, the AC was running when we got home. In fact, it’s still running now. At last check, the room was down to 78 degrees. Though I’m getting tired, I’m going to hold off until the thermostat inches the house closer to 70.
Today was an election day in the St. Louis area. It also was a “Super Tuesday” of sorts for Sarah. Well, maybe not so super, actually. Today was Sarah’s first Tuesday at work since February. That’s because she took maternity leave for three months and then was working Monday, Wednesday and Friday on a temporary basis until this week.
Sarah was kicking butt in her part-time role (actually breaking a record for work accomplished in July), but they wanted more out of her. Can’t blame them. I’d like to have her around more, too. As would Oliver, and it makes Sarah sad that she’s only going to see our son for an hour in the morning and two in the evening (he goes to bed around 7:30 p.m.).
Things that make Sarah upset make me upset, but what can we do? We are grateful to her employer for giving her the time to spend with Oliver during his first (nearly) five months. They have been very generous to us and now we start this new chapter together. Probably would be easier to deal with if the boy slept through the night, but I’m tired (a word with a double meaning, hey, what do you know?) of talking about Oliver waking up at least twice EVERY SINGLE NIGHT.
Any advice from new moms who work full time for Sarah as she deals with work-life balance issues? How has working affecting you?
Yesterday, we HAD to get out of the house. With nothing special in mind and a temperature pushing 100 degrees outside, we decided to go push Oliver around Chesterfield Mall. Fun, right?
Well, it was OK. And after we finished walking all over the dang place (and discovering the various elevator locations throughout the facility), we decided to grab dinner. There was the Cheesecake Factory (with a major wait to get a table), the food court (Panda Express anyone?), Auntie Anne’s (pretzels for dinner?) and Houlihans. We chose Houlihans.
Turns out that Houlihans employees are not exactly sure how to treat families with small kids. First example? As we were greeted at the entrance, we were asked, “Do you need a kids menu?” I’m like, “Ha. Well, he’s only 4 months old.” The
kid waiter gave a blank stare. I said, “No. We don’t need a kids menu.”
Next, we were lead to a room at the very back of the restaurant. It was like a zoo back there, as they seated every family with a small child in this room. It was the “with-kids-only” section. I liked the fact that they felt we could not be integrated with the other diners. Heaven forbid a small child sit with the rest of the customers.
The final funny folly from this dinner experience came when we were feeding Oliver a bottle at the table. Our waiter, all of maybe 17 years old, said, “Do you want me to bring her some carrot sticks?”
“Her? He’s a boy,” I said, curious as to how this young man could have missed the blue outfit with construction equipment on it.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want me to bring HIM some carrot sticks?”
“Umm, no. He’s not quite ready for carrot sticks [SIGH],” I replied, trying not to laugh as I glanced over at Sarah.
I’m amazed at how idiotic these people at Houlihans were, but maybe I was that way a year ago before we had Oliver. I don’t know. All I know is that I’m glad the Houlihans crew works at the restaurant and not as babysitters.