After Finn became an avocado aficionado, we decided to further expand his developing palate by introducing another delight: sweet potato. We figured that getting him to love this tasty tuber would be easy as pie, and were happy to see how interested he was even before his first bite. For some reason, he found it amusing to watch me puree the organic potato and leche de mami:
Once upon a spoon, however, the potato produced a somewhat different response. I don’t think it’s quite what he was expecting:
Fortunately, it took only a day or two for Finn to become an avid yam fan:
Next week, I’m considering squash or carrots…. Any votes?
I’ve never felt the passage of time the way I do now… and it’s not simply speeding up: Time is up to something. It’s become duplicitous and deceptive, tricking me so that one moment I’m fooled into believing my life with Finn has somehow always existed, and time just IS as it has been and always will be, and then suddenly I realize that this NOW has slipped away and time is moving so swiftly that if I’m not conscious of the passage of every single second, something will change and I’ll miss it.
Today, when Finn joined me for lunch as usual, I spotted a second tooth on his lower gumline, budding just to the left of his first.
Did I catch it at its first peek, or did I miss it?
Last night was splendid. I’m probably jinxing my luck by writing this, but I need to acknowledge it somehow: for the first time in my life as a mother, I was able to successfully put Finn in his crib AWAKE at bedtime and watch him actually fall asleep there. He flipped from to back to tummy to side, which he prefers, stuck his little doughboy feet in and out of the bars of his crib as he loves to do, rolled from one end of the mattress to the other, flopped his legs up and down — his right leg in particular — and then drifted off to a peaceful sleep that carried him through until morning.
This may seem like a small achievement, but believe me, it’s not. I’ve spent so many hours feeding and rocking Finn to sleep, only to have him wake and cry as I transition him to his crib… after which Keith or I take him out and repeat the process until it works. Only once he’s soundly down will he sleep through the night. Sometimes my fear that I’ll wake him makes me clumsier and creates a self-fulfilling prophecy; sometimes echoes of those telling me I’m “spoiling” him fill me with self-doubt; sometimes my anxiety about our night-time ritual sucks the joy out of this special time with Finn.
Even if tonight happens to be a long one, and my eyelids are heavy tomorrow, my mind will be more at ease: I’ve seen what the near future will be like — when Finn is ready. I’m happy I got that glimpse, and that Finn got such a good night’s sleep! He woke up absolutely delighted to start the day:
(P.S. Please note that Finn’s size 9 month pajamas are open because the massive size of his thighs keeps them from closing! I still use them with certain buttons open, however, because I want him to sleep with “footy” pjs, which don’t seem to be readily available in size 1!)
Finn’s visit with his cousins last weekend highlighted how much more interaction he needs with other babies and young kids. He sees and spends time with so many different people — family, friends, even my students as they enter my classroom after my lunchtime visit with Finn — but none of them are children.
Here he is with his cousin Cyrus, who’s only seven weeks older, and with whom he didn’t quite know what to do:
And here he is with his two older cousins, Colton and Aidan (and in the arms of his aunt Sunshine!):
Hopefully, this summer will give us a chance to arrange more “play dates.”
On Finn’s six month birthday, we captured his image with some special photos taken by my friend and colleague, Lisset, who is not only a dedicated teacher, but a talented photographer, as well. We stepped into her studio with a bit of trepidation, since Finn, Mommy, and Daddy were all sick, tired, and running on fumes, but the experience and results were amazing: both subject and artist worked magic despite the circumstances.
I’m posting some of my favorites below. To view more of Lisset’s portraits, go to photosbylisset.com. For access to more pictures specifically of Finn, click on “proofing” and type in “finn” (lowercase, no quotes). Enjoy!
After his struggle with teething, a nasty neck rash, and his first “bug,” our fat little guy bounced right back. We all got several blissful nights of uninterrupted sleep, and then last night he decided to wake up at around 1 am — to PLAY. Although Keith and I were not necessarily in playful moods ourselves, and knew that it was not the appropriate time to indulge him, Finn nonetheless babbled, smiled, rolled around, waved his arms and legs, and eventually screeched for attention for two full hours. Not the picture-perfect scene by any means, but still a picture of good health, right? Today’s return visit to the doctor gave us the final confirmation we needed: Finn’s rash and cold are completely gone, and he’s even put on several ounces since our last visit six days ago (not such a surprise, I guess). The flip side of that, however, is that he was well enough to warrant more torture — in the form of four big needles in his legs. More vaccinations! Although his initial cry of surprise was short-lived, and he was in good spirits soon afterwards, his chunky thighs must be starting to hurt now: he just woke up with a cry of pain a short while ago. Will my poor, little monkey ever get a break? It may be another long night.
Finn caught up with his sock monkey when he was two months old, as I remarked in my December 10th post. Here’s a refresher:
These days, he dwarfs his “little” friend:
Yesterday’s visit to the doctor gave us some new data: 19lbs, 3 oz, 27 inches long. He still charts in the 90th percentile. Although he’s at a very healthy weight, he still has three reasons to complain: teething, some dermatitis, and a cold from which Keith and I are also suffering. We all finally got better sleep with the help of a friend’s humidifier and two tubes of prescription ointment for his rashy neck.
The poor guy has maintained such a good disposition in between the hellish nights, but even he has his breaking point when mommy doesn’t recognize that the party’s over:
I hope my little monkey feels better soon! Big monkey, I mean…