Month 10 - Recap

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH. AAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.  Yep.  That about sums up this month.  You are so NOISY, dude.  Holy cow.

Baths.  Yep, you still hate 'em.

Your favorite thing this month has been playing with (ie: terrorizing) Natalie's doll house.  And God bless that girl because she's completely fine with it.  You crawl to her dollhouse, go all Chuck-zilla on it, and Natalie just sits beside you, queitly setting back up what you destroyed.  It's not uncommon for me to hear Natalie say "Whatcha doing, Charlie Bear?  Oh, you're chewing on Dora's mommy?  Aww, you're such a funny little bear!"  She's immensely patient with you, and it does my heart so much good to see you two playing together.

You had your nine-month well-baby appointment this month.  Your head is in the 98th percentile (big shocker); your height is in the 78th percentile (another shocker).  But your weight?  In the 24th percentile.  Twenty-fourth!!!  I swear the scale had to be wrong because you look nothing if not chunky and well-fed.  Daddy takes this '24th percentile problem' as his personal mission to bulk you up.  He's ready to introduce you to the wonderful world of Krispy Kreme, fried chicken, and milkshakes.  Daddy's so silly.

You're a champion crawler now.  No more Army Crawl for you, my boy.  Oh no, you're on all fours now and DUDE are you fast.  I turn my back for a second and you're halfway down the hall, looking for something to stuff in your mouth.  Natalie and I like to get on either end of the hall and have you crawl back and forth between us.  You think it's a fabulous game.  Some of your other favorite games?  Rip Mommy's Glasses of Her Face.  Pull Mommy's Barette Out Of Her Hair.  Wipe Your Icky Nose on Mommy's Shirt.  Scream Like a Loony Tune When Mommy Puts You Down on the Floor.

Based on that last game, it's safe to say that separation anxiety has totally kicked in.  Before, you were all too happy to be left in the church nursery or the YMCA nursery.  As long as someone was interacting with you, you didn't care who it was.  But now?  It must be Mommy.  At all times.  And if I'm NOT there, you poke out your pitiful bottom lip and fly headfirst into the Depths of Despair.  I know it's completely normal for your age, so it doesn't surprise me.  Overwhelm me, yes.  Surprise me, no.

Speaking of overwhelming ... congratulations, my sweet bear.  You made it 10 months before I wanted to sell you to the circus.  This month has definitely been the most trying one so far; to say I'm weary is an understatement.  So your sister threw up all over me all the time and had horrible colic.  But was a great sleeper.  And you?  You're a mellow little dude (for the most part ...).  But your sleep schedule leaves a lot to be desired.  Go figure, right?  I put you to bed around 7:30pm and you wake up at 5:30am.  Ready for the day.  At 5:30.  Five.  Thirty.  In the morning.  Ready to go.  Okay, so here's the thing.  I don't mind getting up at 5:30am.  If I had my preference, I'd get up at 5am or 5:30am every day so I'd have time to eat my breakfast, drink my coffee, and do my morning devotion in peace and quiet.  But you think that idea is ridiculous.  And you make it verrrrrry known.  Now I understand that having a baby who sleeps 10 hours at night is nothing to complain about.  I would just prefer that your 10 hours occurred between 8:30pm and 6:30am.  The other problem with your sleep schedule is your naps (or lack thereof).  You get up at the crack of dawn (actually, I take that back.  Dawn has yet to crack at 5:30am.  Even DAWN thinks 5am is too early.  Take the hint, kid.) so you need a morning nap pretty early in the day.  I don't mean to compare you and Natalie (but here I go), but I distinctly remember her taking three-hour naps in the morning.  But you?  You rarely sleep longer than an hour.  You (and Natalie) take an afternoon at 1pm.  You rarely sleep more than an hour-and-a-half.  So because you wake up so early and refuse to take decent naps, you become a PILL by about 6pm.  I would so put you to bed then except then you'd probably wake up at 4am.  And I've even endured the misery of keeping you up until 8 in the hopes you'll sleep in, but alas, no.  You still wake up at 5:30.  Except then, you've only had 9 hours of sleep, so you become an even BIGGER pill by that evening.  I've tried to put you down for a third, late afternoon nap but you've totally vetoed that idea.  So to summarize, yes, I'm happy you sleep 10 hours at night.  I'm not even that bent out of shape that you get up at 5:30 (I'm a little bent, though).  What I take issue with is that you're a horrible nap taker.  I love naps.  Daddy loves naps.  Natalie won't admit it, but she loves naps too.  So hop on the bandwagon, kid.  Because if you don't, you might be the latest thing that Ringling Brothers shoots out of a cannon.  And I mean that in the nicest, most loving way possible.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for September 9, 2012:

• Chicago teachers to strike for first time in 25 years
• Obama motorcade cop hit by pickup truck, killed
• Broncos close strong, make Manning's debut a win
• Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively get married
• West Nile cases climb 25 percent in a week
• The biggest gas guzzlers on the road