Dear Nolan,
You are six months old today -- six months! Half of a year! And we've all survived! Well, Maggie continues to remain questionable. She still gets very anxious whenever you cry, and when she comes to get us she gives us this pleading look like, "Again? You haven't figured out how to keep this kid quiet yet? You know, the neighbors next door seem to really like him, maybe he could go hang out there for awhile? You know, like, forever?"
You don't cry a lot, Puppy. In fact, for the most part you're a smiley, mellow kid. When we're out and about people often remark on how alert and goodnatured you are. Earlier this month on our way to Maine, you charmed everyone on the airplane and in the airports. You kept staring and smiling at the guy sitting next to us on the flight out. At one point he said to me, "He looks smart." And right after he said that, as if on cue, you grinned this big, silly grin, and ducked your head shyly into my shoulder. Not only are you adorable and smart, you've got great timing, kid.
Speaking of great timing, you've finally started sleeping better and thank goodness, because your Dad and I were about to lose it. You sleep 9+ hour stretches now at night, which is good for us and even better for you because the State Fair is in town and for awhile there in my half-crazed, sleep deprived haze I kept threatening to sell you to the carnies so you could run the rides all night long.
In addition to sleeping better, you've achieved a few other milestones worthy of your baby book. Let's start at the top of your adorable self and work our way down, shall we?
You've actually started growing hair! Your Dad and I were pretty convinced you'd sport the
Telly Savalas look for awhile, but in the last four weeks you've definitely sprouted some serious fuzz on top of that perfectly round cue ball you have for a head. Even strangers have commented on the roundness of your head since the day you were born. That comes from me, by the way. One of your Dad's nicknames for me is "Pumpkin Head," so I've started calling you "Junior Pumpkin Head." The only downside to life with a perfectly proportioned head is that hat shopping can be a bit of a pain later in life.
Working our way down, you cut your first tooth on Sept. 29! Your Dad was the first to notice the little razor-like bump poking through lower left gum. You'd been chewing on your hands for quite awhile and drooling enough to fill a small swimming pool, so I'm glad to see that all of your intense effort was for something. However, I'm sorry to say that the tooth fairy doesn't come and leave something under your pillow until you lose that tooth later on in life. Seems kind of like a raw deal, doesn't it?
You still like to try and put everything in your mouth, and this month we've actually encouraged you to put foreign substances in there -- solid food! Well, as "solid" as a puree can be. I tried to hold out until six months, as recommended by the American Academy of Pediatrics for breastfed babies, but you had other ideas. You've always been a good eater, but shortly after you turned five months old you started to eat a lot more -- and more, and more and more. And more. I figured it was a growth spurt, and good God how you've grown this past month, but when you repeatedly tried to snatch food from our plates, your eyes wide and on the prize with delicious anticipation, we figured you might be ready for some variety.
We started with rice cereal, which you gobbled down as if you'd been waiting for it your whole short life and then continued gumming and mmming for more. Four days later we introduced oatmeal cereal, and since then you've tried avocado, sweet potato, green beans and pears. You've taken to all of them happily except green beans, which you spit out almost as soon as the spoon touched your lips. Your eyes crinkled in utter disgust, and you gave me this sideways, pleading look as if to say, "Why Mommy? Why are you trying to poison me? Haven't I been a good baby? Haven't I?! Okay, okay, I'll sleep better, I promise! Just no more green beans, please!"
Still, I offered you a second spoonful, so you changed your tactic. You then turned your head to the other side, away from me, and averted your eyes to the ceiling. "Maybe if I don't make eye contact she'll forget I'm here. Humdeedumdeedum..." Sorry kid, no dice. I didn't force you to eat more green beans that day, but I will continue to offer them, perhaps mixed in with another food later on. One thing you should know about your mother -- I'm not above a little deception when it comes to something that's good for you.
I'm happy to report that you enjoy avocados and sweet potatoes, and you absolutely love pears. In between spoonfuls you like to bang your hand on the arm of the high chair, happily grunting and leaning forward with your mouth wide open in a perfect "O." I take it that this is your way of saying, "More, Mommy! More! More, please!"
So far, except for the cereals, I've made all of your baby food myself. I enjoy making it for you, partly because I love any excuse to play with the food processor, and mostly because I want you to have a taste for fresh fruits and vegetables early in life. Tonight you get to try butternut squash, and a next up are bananas!
Moving along your gastrointestinal tract, two unpleasant side effects of you eating solid foods are your toots and poops. Gone is the non-offensive, slightly sweet and buttermilky odor. Now they smell like, well, poop. Quite frankly, when you let one rip it clears a room. Even Mags and Murph, two rather stinky tooters themselves, tuck their tails between their legs and slink off somewhere where the air is cleaner. Let's just say if I entered you into a fart contest against a team of frat boys hopped up on bean burritos and beer, I'd put my money on you.
Although the odor is impressive in its way, that's nothing compared to what you actually put in a diaper. And wow, do you know how to fill a diaper. I should mention that since starting solids you will occasionally go a few days without pooping. This concerns your Dad, who frets over the health of your tiny bowels. I figure your bowels are just fine, but I find myself worrying about their carrying capacity and wondering when you're going to blow. When you finally do decide to give yourself and your father some relief, the product is usually grandiose in nature, creeping up your back and slipping out the legs of your diaper. And whenever you let loose one of these atomic poops, you always laugh and squirm with delight as we try to clean you up -- along with any casualties, like your clothes, the changing table, or in one instance the rug -- while holding our breath.
Your legs are getting stronger now, and you love it when we hold you in a standing position so you can bear some weight on them. You seem to have gone from enjoying tummy time to tolerating it, however. I suspect this is because you're pretty close to crawling and you're getting frustrated. You can push yourself way up on your hands now, practically lifting your belly up off the ground. And you can get your feet up under you so that your bottom pushes up in the air. Yesterday I swear you were up on your hands and knees for about a second and you rocked back and forth, only to collapse back onto your belly. I still try to put you on your tummy regularly, but at shorter and more frequent intervals so you don't get too frustrated or upset.
Finally, your feet. Your adorable, perfect, cute little feet! You love to grab both of them now while you're on your back or lying on the changing table. You figured out they were there around four months, but this month you seem to be adopting them as playthings, grabbing at them, holding on and wiggling all about with a big dopey grins and belly laughs. You continue to reach and grab for things, sometimes with both hands now. And I think you're starting to put together that you can shift an object from one hand to another. I could watch your face all day long, because it's like I can see your brain working.
The last six months have been amazing, Puppy. I can't believe how fast they've gone by and how much you've grown. Thinking about how you'll grow and change in the next six months blows my mind. So, for now, we'll just continue to enjoy one day at a time. I love you.
Love,
Mom
Close to 3,000 people attended the Turkey Trot. Obviously we were the most attractive people there.
Close to 3,000 people attended the Turkey Trot. Obviously we were the most attractive people there.
Bill and Nolan played photographer throughout most of the race. That is until Nolan started having a meltdown just few minutes before I was about to cross the finish line. Have I mentioned this kid has great timing?
Who? Me? Meltdown? You must be joking. I would do no such thing.
Kids decorated the straightaway with sidewalk chalk while the race was in progress.
Turkey meets baby bear. I think the baby bear weighs more.
Last weekend, Nolan and I took a trip to Maine to visit my family. Immediately after crossing the state line it began to rain, and the overcast skies hung around until it was time to leave on Monday. Despite the dreary weather we did make it to the beach one day to watch the waves and check out the seagulls. We also smelled the seaweed. Not by choice, mind you.
