Saturday, January 29, 2011

public service announcement

dear blog readers (all 6 of you) I wanted to point out a new feature on the bog...that's right, we have "features."

By now you may, or may not have noticed that mostly all of the titles of my posts are song titles, or lyrics from a song. Those of you who know me know that my taste in music can only be described as "eclectic"...which is probably a nice way of really saying "random." So I thought that maybe I could let you all in on the song that served as the inspiration for the post and what D and I are listening to these days. So just click on the play button on the little black box to hear the song. Just to make it painfully obvious I also added the word "clicky" to help guide you. The title of the song and the artist should also appear in the black box.

Maybe, just maybe we will help to expand your musical repertoire (you are welcome itunes). More likely you will just get a good chuckle out of the never ending sea of craptasticness that is my ipod.

Thank you to our IT Department (Tom) for making this possible. There is no way in holy hell I could have figured this out on my own.

Friday, January 28, 2011

hot tub, hot and bubbly



Ok, so it's not a "hot tub", but it is a tub with hot water, and there are certainly bubbles thanks to all the spit bubbles you are blowing these days. Anyways, you are a big fan. A huge fan of the bath. I am really hoping this means you are going to follow in my foot steps and be a water baby (your dad is really more of a land lubber). You have never cried in your tub, although you have completely freaked out a couple of times when we take you away from your tub.

Bath time is rapidly becoming both of our favorite times of the day. You kick and splash and just go bananas. You don't even flinch when you get water in your eyes (thank God, I am really annoyed by wimpy scared of water kids)I know I am being mildly delusional but I really think you might be a natural.

There really isn't much money to be made in swimming so you are going to need to get real good Milky. Hummm, maybe I can cultivate my own little Michael Phelps. You do have really big feet, flipper like even.

Uh oh, look who finally fired up the video camera.


clicky

Monday, January 24, 2011

four-ever young



OK, so I took a little creative license with the title of this post, but in the immortal words of Mr. Bobby Brown, it's my prerogative!

Happy four months Milky! Now I really, really want you to stop growing because I love four months. So just go ahead and stay forever young.

You smile all the time, you giggle, and talk up a storm. You smile with all of your face, resulting in something we loving refer to as smushy face. You are also blowing tons and tons of spit bubbles. Between that and the new tooth you are cutting your shirts are permanently soaked with drool. That's right, I said tooth! The tippy top of your bottom right tooth has just broken through to the surface. You have really handled it like a man though, no crying or fussing, you just stuff your hand in your mouth and go on about your day. It looks awful though. You also reach for things and hold them on your own now, which makes eating Sophie the Giraffe's face off even easier these days. Everything, everything goes straight into your mouth. I should probably buy stock in hand sanitizer.

All in all, you are still one very happy and content little guy, and I hope you stay that way always and forever.

Your official stats from your 4 month visit are:

15 lbs 11 oz - 25-50th percentile
26 inches long - 75-90th percentile
16.5 inch head circumference - 25-50th percentile

Our beloved Dr. Donohue said you look great and are developing and gaining weight perfectly. He gave us the go ahead to start cereal (yikes!) and ordered us to ditch the swaddle asap (oops and double yikes).

Four months, can't believe you are four months already, yet at the same time I feel like you have always been here...maybe because I just can't imagine life without you in it.

xxoo
clicky

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

i'm gonna knock you out. mama said knock you out.

I just like this picture of you Milky. You look tough.

"....don't call it a comeback, I been here for years..."

clicky

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

rollin', rollin', rollin'...

D,

After weeks of teasing us, today you finally rolled over. Tummy to back, twice in a row. I think you were more surprised than I was.

So naturally being the spastic mother that I am I made a mad dash for the video camera to catch it on film. Only the video camera was buried under all this junk, and then I found it only to see that the battery was dead. That totally sums this family up.

Thank God for the iphone 4 and the video feature. Only when I tried to get you to roll over again you just looked at me like I was crazy and seemed to have no recollection of the amazing feat you just performed.

So instead of catching rolling on video, I got this....


I think you will all agree with me when I say that the scream-talk is way more entertaining than rolling.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

tried to make me go to rehab

Oh Dylan,

As I type this you are having a mini fit in your crib. See you are an addict. There I said it. Your name is Dylan Derhake, you are 16 weeks old and you are addicted to the swaddle.

The problem is you are really close to rolling over and you are constantly breaking out of your swaddle, and it just doesn't seem that safe anymore. I'm afraid the SIDS Police are going to come knock down my door.

Which brings us back to why you are currently having a mini fit. I am attempting to wean you off the swaddle. It is not going well. I fear that now that you have had a taste of the swaddle nothing else is gonna do. I am pretty sure in about twenty seconds I am going to be the biggest enabler and give you what you want. I am weak. Forgive me.

This makes me super scared for the day when we have to ditch the paci. Because really the swaddle is just the gateway drug. If the swaddle is cigarettes than the paci is straight up crack. Covered in chocolate. Chocolate covered crack. We don't stand a chance.

Off to swaddle you back up. Junkie.