hit him with your best shot

This baby went to the doctor for

his two month check-up last week

This was the result:

(look at that devastated bottom lip)

These are the vitals:

14 lbs. 6 oz.
24 1/2 inches tall

and since we like to start comparing our children early on here in America that puts him in the:

95th percentile in weight & 93rd percentile in height (head is 85th)

What I learned:

• shots are just as sad for mommies as they are for babies
• babies' legs get sore after shots resulting in at least a few hours of sad babies
• don't take babies to jewelery parties the same day as their shots
• especially not jewelry parties an hour away (long car rides are bad)
• when babies' legs are sore they don't like to eat
• yanking off band-aids on babies' skin is not pleasant for anyone

Anything else I should know for the 4 month shots? Our first experience really wasn't THAT bad, but I didn't like knowing that he was in pain at all. Luckily after about a day and a half he was back to his normal happy self and he seems to have forgiven me for letting the nurse stab him with needles 4 times.

Ah, the joys of being a mommy. :)

Labor Day-ish this and that

Now that it is a week after Labor Day I figured I should post about what we did over the holiday. Be prepared for a billion pictures...

A few days before Labor Day I was pleasantly sitting in our living room with the baby when J came inside looking mildly flustered. He had been up on our roof ripping off all of the old tar paper and other stuff that involoved him getting incredibly filthy. He was dirty enough and calm enough that I didn't notice that he was limping very badly. Even after he said, "I just fell off our roof," I wasn't really concerned because of how calm he seemed. It wasn't until he hopped over on top of the counter and put his leg up that I realized how bad he had hurt his ankle. Have a look:


He fell off the roof when a board broke and landed on his right food inside this 3 foot deep trench. And yes, it does have rebar sticking up out of it, and yes, there is really no reason that J should not have impaled himself on the rebar other than that he must have a really good guardian angel.

This is what his foot looked like the next morning, and in the following few days it got much more gruesome-- super swollen and excellent bruising.
He didn't break anything-- just tore the ligaments on the outside of his ankle and a severe sprain. He is still limping around, but the swelling is going down and he can put on shoes for short periods of time. We are just so grateful that it wasn't any worse than this. The orthopedic surgeon who looked at it said that some of the very worst, life-changing injuries he sees are from people falling off of roofs. We are very lucky.



In other news, the wonderful T-Bo family came to visit over Labor Day and we had so much fun with them. Here is a photographic record of some of the highlights:

Camping up Little Cottonwood Canyon (and by "we" I mean Uncle K and the kids went camping and the rest of us went up for an evening of hot dogs, s'mores, and sitting by the fire only to come back home to get in the hot tub and sleep in beds).

We saw a large moose

We boiled water inside a bottle in the fire

J made a s'more that included fire-roasted pineapple

We sat around and ate















Uncle K ate a lot


















Aunt K did the Macarena





Baby G fell asleep









My father ruined this picture that would have otherwise been very cute

The boys brandished some weapons

E and R looked really cute

Baby G smiled and looked really cute, too

And what would a trip with the T-Bo family be without Aunt J's famous brownies:

K is the chef

The girls do the dishes

J gets the baby to sleep after eating the whole pan

We had such fun, and are always sad for a few days when they leave us. Luckily they are coming back in a few weeks for Baby G's blessing and B's mission farewell. We can't wait!

***Not pictured: the totally awesome synchronized swimming routine that Mom, Aunt K, and I choreographed and performed in the pool. Note to self: get pictures of it next time Aunt K is in town.

To bink or not to bink?

I have a love-hate relationship with Baby G's binkie (or is it binky? maybe we should just call it a pacifier).

Things I love:
-the way it looks in his little mouth
-the way we can see him sucking vigorously through the back of it
-that it will keep him from having a break down in the car
-that it can hold him over when he thinks he is the hungriest baby in the world but it has really only been an hour since he last ate
-that he finds the sucking so soothing and will fall asleep literally within a minute of it touching his lips when he is exhausted but is fighting a nap

Things I hate:
-the thought of having to take it away in a few months because I refuse to let him be a toddler with a binkie (don't want to chance ruining his little teeth)
-that he may not be learning to soothe himself as well as he would without it

I think about this all the time. Am I a bad mom because I let him have a binkie during the day (he doesn't get it at night because I DO NOT want him being dependent on it to sleep at night, and I DO NOT want to have to re-teach him to sleep at night when he no longer gets the bink)? Am I a bad mom because I don't let him have it all the time? Am I being slightly anal and paranoid about the whole thing? Because really, is it the worst thing in the world if your toddler loves a binkie? Does it really matter if your baby calms down easier with a binkie than he does without one?

Probably not. Any advice?

But really, look how cute that is!

Mama's boy?

prayer of the children

To me there is something almost sacred about rocking a baby to sleep. Holding all that innocence, all the trust in their eyes, feeling their body relax, watching their eyelids get heavier and heavier until they finally stay shut. That is heaven to me.

Why do Romanian orphans never get that?

Having a baby of my own has made my heart ache in ways that it never has before. I now am beginning to realize really how very much babies need a mommy and daddy.

Baby G is an angel, and truly is hardly ever just fussy. But still, he is a baby. And sometimes babies just need a little extra--

A few nights ago it was a little tricky to get Baby G to latch on and eat because he was both so tired and hungry that he couldn't quite figure it out.

Who takes that extra time for orphans?

When I went to lay Baby G down last night he woke up and immediately started to cry (which he normally doesn't do). I picked him up and he quickly buried his little face in my neck and fell fast asleep. He just needed an extra cuddle.

Who does that for orphans?

All the middle of the night feedings-- do orphans go hungry until morning?

Baby G gets uncomfortable and spits up if i don't burp him good enough. I can't remember ever once seeing anyone burp those orphan babies. Who does it? No one?

Why?

Why did my Baby G come to parents who adore him, who love him so much it hurts, who take care of his every need and want almost to a fault? And why was the Baby G in Romania born there, to parents who, for whatever reason, couldn't or wouldn't take care of him?

I have no answers. I don't think I'll ever come to terms with this horrific injustice in this lifetime.
But what I do know is that I'll keep holding my Baby G when he cries, I'll keep picking him up when he whimpers, I'll keep burping him long enough even in the middle of the night, and I'll keep loving him so much it hurts.

And I'll keep praying that somehow, by some miracle, someone is doing those same things for Baby G in Romania, too.

Va iubesc, copii fara mama.

Can you hear the prayer of the children on bended knee, in the shadow of an unknown room? Empty eyes with no more tears to cry turning heavenward toward the light.

Crying Jesus help me to see the mornin' light of one more day, but if I should die before I wake, I pray my soul to take.

Can you feel the hearts of the children aching for home, for something of their very own. Reaching hands with nothing to hold onto but hope for a better day, a better day.

Crying Jesus help me to feel the love again in my own land, but if unknown roads lead away from home, give me loving arms, away from harm.

Can you hear the voice of the children softly pleading for silence in their shattered world? Angry guns preach a gospel full of hate, blood of the innocent on their hands.

Crying Jesus, help me to feel the sun again upon my face? For when darkness clears, I know you're near, bringing peace again.

Can you hear the prayer of the children?
Lyrics written by Kurt Bestor

growing, growing, gone!

Here is a photo illustration of just how much Baby G has grown since he was born. He is wearing the same pajamas in each of these pictures (size 0-3 months)

These first two pictures were taken the day we brought him home from the hospital. He was 3 days old and you can see how big and baggy the pjs were on him.

These two pictures were taken of Baby G when he was almost 3 weeks old. You can tell that the pjs are getting tighter on him, but there is still room to grow.

And finally, the most recent. Baby G is 7 weeks old in these and look at how tight the jammies have gotten! I love the chub, but I am slightly saddened that he is not my little newborn anymore.

And just in case you didn't believe me, this is a picture I took this morning and check out how big he looks! J and I have taken to calling him simply "Squish." Fitting, isn't it?

Why I Love Sundays

(You know, besides the whole spiritual edification thing...)

sleeping boys

sleeping daddy

sleeping baby

sleeping mama (okay so this isn't really me, but it is a picture of where I was sleeping)

Photo Shoot Catch Up Part 3

Here is the final installment of the photo catch up. These are the latest pictures of our little Baby G and a look into what we have been up to lately.

Baby G loves his hippo play mat-- check out the smile.

For my birthday this past week we went downtown to The Gateway for some shopping and dinner.

Baby G loves to be outside and he has had plenty of opportunities lately because we have been completely re-doing our yard (ie: taking out dead sod, digging trenches, putting in sprinkler system, putting in more soil, and planting new grass). Yesterday was a perfect day for yard work because it was overcast and a little bit rainy so we weren't dying of heat. When we first got Baby G's stroller we kind of thought that the rain cover it came with was lame and we were like, "Yeah, like we will ever use that." But let me tell you, we LOVED having it yesterday because we could just keep Baby G out with us and work away. He loved watching the rain hit the plastic and stayed in there for about an hour.

So I kind of feel like white trash when we have Baby G out in his stroller wearing just a diaper, but when it is really hot I would feel even worse if he was all sweaty and hot... so white trash it is, I guess. Look at how chubby and yummy his legs are getting.

Hanging out in his swing watching Daddy dig some trenches.
He keeps his hands up by his face like this a lot of the time. Luckily he doesn't scratch himself much anymore.

Gangsta G. Don't you just LOVE those chub cheeks?