Missed Photo Opportunities

We went to the Waffle Shop this morning. Mason was sleepy, but it wasn't time for his morning nap yet, so I figured he'd be alright for breakfast, the bank, and a quick trip to Walmart. For breakfast, Mason had wheat toast with cream cheese and some blueberries. He was so excited to be sitting in his high chair, banging on the table, and gumming his toast to death that he kept letting out these super high-pitched squeals that had every old lady in the place gazing lovingly in our direction. A few came up to us, made comments, and tried to win a smile. He's quite the popular kid; he always draws a crowd. I just wished I would have brought my camera to snap a few pictures of him in that high chair, looking so big and so happy.

About an hour later, at Walmart, something happened that I would have sworn would never happen with my baby. Again, I wished I would have had my camera, but luckily I was able to get these with my cell phone:

I've seen pictures of babies sleeping in high chairs and passed out mid-jump in their jumperoos. But Mason? Never! The kid doesn't even like to sleep at two in the morning, why on Earth would he zonk out in a shopping cart under the bright lights of the Walmart Super Center on a Friday afternoon? Who knows.

All I know is I promise to never leave the house - for any reason - without my camera again. Not even to walk to the mailbox. You never know when something exciting is going to happen with this baby around.

What a Work Out

It's been three days since Mason started crawling and I just can't seem to be able to wrap my mind around the whole thing yet. This morning before work, I put him down on the floor in the living room with a couple toys and went into the kitchen to make some oatmeal for him and some coffee for me. I finished up what I was doing, turned around.. and almost tripped over him. Mason was right under my feet, giggling like crazy.

Of course my first thought was how in the world did you get over here? and then it took a good thirty seconds for my brain to process the fact that he can move by himself. See, it wasn't that long ago that my baby couldn't even hold his own head up without help and now, three days in, he's acting like he's been crawling all his life. He follows me when I do the laundry. He peeks his head around the corner when I'm peeing. He's chewing on wires and lunging onto my dinner plate. He's everywhere.

It's so much fun though. From across the room, I call his name and hold out my hands and he gives me a couple exasperated grunts and groans, as if what he's about to do is the most strenuous, awful thing I could possibly make him do and he's thinking why the heck won't you pick me up and just take me over there, mom? Finally, he'll humor me and crawl over, all dramatic-like, and smile super big when he finally gets close enough to grab my hands. Every once in awhile, he forgets that he needs his hands and he'll try to rub his eyes or something, mid-crawl, and fall on his face. He's hilarious, but it must be exhausting, and If I didn't know him better, I'd swear he'd sleep all night with all the energy he must be putting out.

Every morning I make a pot of coffee and microwave the same cup three times before I finally get a chance to drink it. Today, I think I set a new record with five microwavings. Whew. Good thing I'm going back to the gym on Monday. I'm having a hard time keeping up.

Crawlers Don't Sleep

All day Mason crawled,

and crawled,

and crawled,

but he never slept. Okay, well he slept once for about twenty-five minutes but I hardly think that warrants throwing a party for, especially since it took over an hour of me practically laying on top of him while he laughed at me and played with fuzzies on the comforter.

I just thought that all this crawling would wear a kid out, you know? Guess not. Looks like the only one worn out today is Mama.

Baby On a Mission

There are practically no groceries in the house aside from a couple boxes of mac 'n cheese and some Captain Crunch, so tonight, we did what we always do when we're starving and nothing else sounds good - we ordered pizza. It was almost bedtime for Mason when the delivery guy finally showed up, but we were so hungry that we decided to hurry up and eat before we put him (Mason, not the delivery guy) to bed. I ate on the couch and George was eating on the floor with Mason about five feet away, playing with his blocks.

It was just then that Mason decided he'd crawl a real crawl. The quality of the video is awful, as it was taken with my cell phone, but I can't wait 'til Mason's older so I can tell him what finally motivated him to crawl for the first time. He was a baby on a mission who only wanted one thing: a piece of Daddy's pizza.

Eight

Today, Mason turned eight months old.

Our photoshoot was mostly a bust, as I couldn't get him to sit still long enough to take a decent picture. Plus, something must have been wrong with my camera, because he just didn't look like a baby in any of them. He looks like a little boy. When did that happen?!

At eight months old, Mason's finally starting to like solid food. He is thisclose to crawling. He's toothless, but it's very possible that he'll wake up tomorrow morning with a couple of chompers. He's full of smiles and he's completely his own little person. Sometimes, when he tries to suck his thumb he pokes himself in the eye. Giraffes are his favorite animal and he loves when I read Dr. Seuss. He's anti-nap and pro-playing-peekaboo-at-three-AM. He's attached to me at the hip.

He's eight months old. Can I go cry now?

Almost-Crawler

Mason's been almost-crawling for two days now. If there's something he really wants, he can go from sitting on his butt down to his hands and knees in a flash. Then, he does something like knee, hand, knee, hand... wobble... wobble... face plant.

He's getting there though. Yesterday, we were sitting on the floor and I was using my laptop to pay some bills online while he played right in front of me. He almost-crawled right over to my computer, stuck his hand out, and ripped off my S key. He was a fraction of a second away from swallowing it and it took me a half an hour to figure out how to get the key back on.

I have a feeling I'm going to be in big trouble very, very soon.

A Bedtime Story

Well, at six o'clock Mason had squash and pear:

with some banana yogurt for dessert:


Just like George did yesterday, I gave Mason his bath at six forty-five:


At six fifty-five we did lotion and jammies:



At five after seven, we read a story:

Finally, at seven twelve, he started to eat. A lot. He guzzled milk for a half an hour before I stopped him and layed him in his crib. That was at seven forty-two. He was awake, and he flopped around in there, whining and babbling for three minutes. I shushed him until he got quiet , and then I ducked out of his view. I layed on his floor, wihtout moving, for ten minutes, and after I hadn't heard anything for awhile I slowly peeked up at him. Sleeping!

I army crawled out of his room and haven't heard a peep since. He put himself to sleep, and I saw it with my own eyes. Amazing.

Under Pressure

For some reason, George has always been better than me at getting Mason to sleep. Maybe it's my reluctancy to let Mason so much as whine in his crib. Maybe it's because he just loves spending time with me and doesn't want to waste our time together sleeping. Maybe it's because George loads him up with some sort of baby Nyquil without telling me.

In any case, George has put Mason to bed for the past three nights in a row. Saturday night was fairly normal, with Mason coming into bed with us around midnight and waking up every hour or two. Sunday night though, he stayed asleep from eight thirty at night until seven o'clock in the morning without a peep. Then, last night, he didn't wake up and come into bed with us until five thirty this morning. It's not that I mind him being in our bed, but it's just that when he's in there all night, he doesn't want to sleep. He'd rather eat. And play with Daddy. And pull my hair. And eat. But now that he's sleeping, he's so much happier. Everybody's happier.

The only thing is, I'm terrified of bedtime tonight. I'm pretty sure I'm going to mess up all the progress George has made with it. We'll see though. I mean, how hard can it be? This is what George did yesterday (from The Daily Mason Log):

6:21PM - Squash and pears for dinner
6:45PM - Bath time
6:55PM - Lotion and jammies
7:09PM - Story
7:15PM - Bottle
7:32PM - Put Mason in crib awake but sleepy, left the room after shushing him a little
7:39PM - Quiet but still a little bit awake
7:41PM - Sleeping!

It's not really any different than what I usually do, besides the last part. Mine usually is the same up until:

7:15PM - Boob
7:30PM - Still, boob
8:00PM - Boob, still, but almost passed out enough for me to drop him into his crib without him realizing it
8:15PM - Sleeping! and oblivious to the fact that he's now in his crib
8:45PM - Awake (and then awake 874 times after that)

So yeah, my way isn't exactly the most fun thing in the world. We'll see how tonight goes. Update to follow.

Optimism

Everytime I buy a lottery ticket, I'm planning what I'm going to do with $1000 a week for life before I can even get a quarter out of my pocket to scratch off the ticket. Call it being overly optimistic, but I'm always getting ahead of myself like that. I've just always been that way.

Right now, Regis and Kelly are having their Beautiful Baby Contest. Five babies get to be on the show - four of them will get $25,000 towards college and the overall winner will get $125,000. Of course, Mason's definitely the cutest baby I've ever seen, so I know he's going to win. What in the world do I have in my closet that's nice enough to wear on tv?

The only problem is picking the perfect picture - since they can't meet Mason in person - that shows what an adorable, perfect baby he is. The picture has to be taken within the last month, and although that gives me upwards of four hundred pictures to choose from, I took a few yesterday to see if I could get anything better.

I don't know how I'm ever going to be able to pick one. Plus, the contest doesn't end until mid-February so I'll more than likely have another three hundred pictures by then. I really want to say that last one's a winner though. Gosh, he's cute.

Tough Guy

Some mornings, Mason giggles and slaps Daddy in the face until he wakes up. If I don't have my hair pulled back, he grabs it in his fists and pulls out four strands a time (ouch!). It's not because he's violent, it's just because he gets excited and doesn't know his own strength. One of Mason's favorite things in the house is my bedroom mirror. Months ago, he would just stare at himself and appear to be a little confused. Now though, toughy sits on the dresser and tries to beat himself up.

Tonight, he had a great time punching and diving at the mirror, amazed by the speed of the baby he just can't outsmart. It was cute and all, but my main goal was to tire him out. After he played in the mirror, we wrestled around and I tickled him until he was laughing so hard he was gasping for breath.

Hopefully, Mason wore himself out today. The other morning, I filled up a coffee filter with sugar instead of coffee grinds and was two seconds away from hitting the button to brew. I think that means Mama needs some sleep.

Getting Somewhere

On his six month birthday, Mason learned to get up on his hands and knees, rock back and forth, and even push himself backwards a little bit - the first steps toward crawling. I figured it would be only a couple days until he figured the whole crawling thing out. A week, tops. But now, about forty-five days later, he's still rocking back and forth and scooting backwards around the living room.

For the past week or so though, it looks as if he's starting to figure out the way it all works. He moves his knees until they're both up behind his hands and then... he falls over. I've tried moving his hands for him, but he seems to keep all his weight in the front, so as soon as I pull his little hand forward he just topples onto his face.

I think he's starting to get frustrated with his immobility though, and he's been trying harder than ever because of it. Today, he actually moved one hand forward three times in a row. We've been practicing all day:

and I think we're getting somewhere.

Couch Bound

For the past month or more, Mason's been waking up approximately every ninety minutes throughout the night. It seems that he does this no matter when (or if) he naps, what he eats, or how many times he poops. He wakes whether he takes a long bath or a short bath, whether I read the Berenstain Bears or Dr. Seuss, and whether I put him to bed at six or seven or eight o'clock. He wakes if he's sleeping in his crib, in our bed, or out on the front lawn. I've started keeping a log of everything we do during the day to see if I can find a pattern between how the day goes and how the night goes. So far - nothing. The kid just can't sleep.

Last night, Mase went to sleep at eight after an hour of wrestling, begging, and pleading. He woke at ten and again somewhere around midnight, when I brought him into bed with me. At one thirty, when I still couldn't get the little bugger to sleep, I woke up George in tears and, out of complete frustration and exhaustion, retreated to the couch. I fell right asleep and the next thing I knew, it was seven forty-five. Six straight hours. Six beautiful, amazing hours of sleep in a row.

The kicker? Mason slept... well, like a baby. I wasn't the only one who slept six hours in a row. Mase did too. He fell asleep as soon as George and I traded places, and apparently didn't bat an eye 'til morning. We'll see what happens tonight, but it could be that this whole time, the problem was me. Maybe I'm so much fun to be around that the reason he wakes up at three in the morning (and one and five and six) is just so that he and I can hang out. At least, that's what I'll keep telling myself. Either way, Mommy's sleeping on the couch again tonight.

Tooth Aches

Today was just one of those days. One of those wake up at six, nap for ten minutes total all day kind of days. One of those days when I clearly understand why thirteen-year-olds shouldn't have babies and why my mom used to jokingly threaten to run away from home. I do a lot every day, but my most important job aound here isn't paying the bills, cleaning the apartment, or making sure the laundry's done. It's keeping Mason happy. That's it. Sounds easy, right? Well, most of the time, it is.

But for the majority of today... it just wasn't.

And when it isn't easy and when I can't get that big Mason smile because he's overtired and cranky and his teeth hurt, well.. I can't help feeling like I'm letting him down. A sad baby inevitably equals a sad mommy. When you can't do your one most important job in the world, nothing else seems to matter very much. I walked into work in tears, yelled at a manager, and slammed some stuff around before I finally calmed myself down.

I just want him happy, that's all. I hate that helpless feeling I get when I know there's a problem but I can't fix it. I can see the little bumps where his teeth are about to pop through. I wish they'd hurry up a little. Kids get about twenty teeth before they start losing them. Is every tooth going to be this painful?

Snow Baby

It snowed today - a big, heavy, Central Pennsylvania snow - the kind that's actually really pretty until the snow plows come through to turn it all to gray slush. When Mase and I woke up this morning, there was already a good five inches on the ground.

For the majority of the day, we just watched the giant flakes fall from the inside.

But when he (I!) couldn't wait anymore, out into the cold we went. Mason doesn't have a snowsuit, so we stuffed him into a million layers until he pretty much couldn't move. As usual, he was a good sport about the whole thing... at least until he stuck his mittenless (bad Mommy!) little hand in the snow.

Hey, Twenty-Four

Well, my birthday's come and gone. I got to sleep in until almost ten thirty and then poop and take a long hot shower with no one else in the bathroom. Mason was in a good mood all day and had a million of his big contagious smiles for me. He even took a couple naps. Imagine that!

Turns out, he decided to learn something new today, too. It wasn't crawling, but it was just as cute!

Peekaboo!

Thanks for the great birthday, Mase.

Goodbye, Twenty-Three

Tomorrow's my birthday; I'll be twenty-four years old. Today, my last day as a twenty-three-year-old, was a great end to a great year. Here are some highlights.

Mason had an appointment for a shot this morning, so I got to put him in his new carseat. His present from Mommy and Daddy, his brand new Britax Marathon, Cadillac of All Carseats:

Talk about safety! He can stay rear-facing in that thing until he's thirty-five pounds and then turn it around and ride in style until he hits sixty-five pounds.

After Mason's appointment I really wanted to go to The Waffle Shop for breakfast, but the nurses had taken forever to get the shot ready and we didn't have much time before we had to get to our WIC appointment. We settled for Sheetz, and while George pumped some gas I ran in and ordered us a couple breakfast sandwiches. I grabbed an orange juice, paid for the food and the gas, and as an afterthought, brought a five dollar scratch-off ticket. I scratched it on the counter while I waited for the sandwiches... and won sixty bucks!

When we got home, I made some more sweet potato and some pear and showed Mason the cupboard that I had set up for him in the kitchen.

He loved it. Actually, loved may be an understatement.

He had a mix of sweet potato and apple for dinner and then got another surprise. I decided to hold off on juice 'til Mason's one and don't really love the idea of a sippy cup for him right now, but the kid loves water. He's always trying to sip mine (and sometimes his bath water) - and it's usually a pretty big mess - so I decided to get him a little cup with a straw. I thought it would take him a few days to figure out how to actually get the water through the straw, but my little smarty caught right on.

It only took forty minutes to get Mason to fall asleep, and as soon as his eyes closed I skipped out into the kitchen and made myself a pre-birthday dinner:

Not twelve seconds after I took that picture, my beautiful baby started to cry from his bedroom. Of course. I keep trying to remind myself that when he's older, I'll be glad I got to spend so much time with him, even if it is in the middle of dinner or at three in the morning. Now, I'm going to have some ice cream and watch the season premiere of Nip/Tuck from the other night. And if Mason wakes up again... ehhh, oh well. Isn't that why they invented DVR?

Home Is Where the Smiles Are

This week has been long and tiring and it's only Wednesday. I'm almost positive that Mason's first tooth is about to poke it's way through his bottom gum, and it's making him pretty miserable. He's been awake for about a week straight, he clings to me as if I'll run away forever if he lets me out of his sight, and he just hasn't been his old smiley self. The teething tablets I've been giving him haven't been helping at all. I don't think so, anyway. They haven't been helping him sleep, that's for sure.

I got to work today at five o'clock and was told to go home as soon as I walked in the door. I hesitated for a second, then turned and ran before my manager could change her mind. It's really icy and cold out, so I guess she just assumed we weren't going to get too busy. I was so glad to come home, because today wasn't anything like how the past week has been.

I feel a little guilty admitting it, but there have been two or three days in the past seven months when putting on that tie and going across the parking lot to The Olive Garden was like taking a vacation. But not tonight. Tonight, I came home to this:

Okay, I couldn't get a good smile on camera, but trust me, they were there, and the smiles he had for me today have made me even happier than they usually do after these last few days of his grumping around. Maybe I'll get a double surprise: the night off AND Mase sleeping through the night.

Well, I guess that's asking a little much. I'll be unbelievably happy if he stays asleep 'til midnight.