Peas Please

He seems to like them as both food, and, foundation/cover-up.

Hopefully he never gets wise to the fact that nobody likes to EAT peas.

Time to add Wyatt to Dental Coverage in 2012!

First tooth spotted 2/7/2011!!!

Baby and tooth are resting comfortably. What a big boy!

Fake chicken of course...

The paw

*Quick note about the previous post...the car seat is indeed facing rear. I am sitting next to him in the back seat, so it looks like he's facing forward. Rest assured it was installed by the firepeople in Greensboro. 

The paw.

I love it.

What is it? It's the little hand that tightly grasps my collar when I pick Wyatt up, say hello with a kiss, and, I'm wearing a shirt from work. It's the little hand that sits flat on my shoulder when we're walking around the house together, and he's slung on my hip. It's the little hand that grabs my ribs when we're walking around in the ergo together, and he's conked out. It's the little sloppy, often cold and wet, miniature set of fingers that reaches out for my nose when I stick my face in the car seat to make him giggle.

That's the paw.

And, I love it.

You know you're growing up when...

You get a new fancy big car seat

Long Hugo

Back in the days before Wyatt was born, we inherited boxes upon boxes of adorable outfits that looked more like doll clothes than human clothes.  As I folded all of his little outfits (something I haven't done since), I couldn't believe how tiny they were!  It was then that I started paying attention to fashion design for the very wee.  So many of the onesies had pretty bizarre sayings on them, as if the person that designed them came from a land far far away.  A place with little exposure to our language and culture.  For example, one pj set was adorned with cars and trucks and the exclamation "Traffic!".  Really?  We're celebrating traffic?  (they've obviously never driven in Denver at rush hour).  Another onesie had a giraffe on an island with the word "Jungle!" on it.  Are there really giraffes in the jungle?  And whats up with the giraffes anyway?  They're on like 90% of our baby clothes and toys.
So I hardly paused when Gregg was dressing Wyatt one day chuckling over the latest outfit.  Gregg read it aloud, "I love Long Hugo".  tee hee.  Long Hugo?  Wait, what?  Who's Long Hugo?  I took a closer look, saw yet another giraffe, and in my sleep deprived state it took me longer than it should have to figure out the mystery...

Ode to the mammaries

Before Wyatt and I both forget, I wanted to send out my appreciation for the wonders of breastfeeding.  At the risk of sounding incredibly hokey... I never even imagined how wonderful breastfeeding would be.  And I'm not just talking about the science of it, that alone is truly amazing.  What I'm appreciating now is how precious that time with Wyatt is.  It insures these big blocks of time every day (and Every night) to watch this sweet little boy, up close and adorable.  He's so perfectly happy and peaceful when he nurses.  His little hands flit around patting me with supreme joy.  He gets painfully excited when he knows its time to nurse, he'll sort of whimper/chuckle with impatience while I get ready.  Once he gets going he'll close his eyes and make sweet little happy noises.  Or sometimes he'll make really Big noises.  When he's really hungry Gregg says it sounds like a wildebeest devouring a gazelle.  And after he's had his fill, he passes out in the most helpless little milk coma.  After nursing I still hold him upright to ease his reflux, so in the quiet of the night I sit alone and watch him, his mouth agape, body limp and soul happy.  Those sleepless nights aren't really that bad.  Someday we'll all be sleeping through the night (right?), and it will be a little bittersweet.