So Big!

Nate has been telling us for a while now that when he is "so big" he will ride in a boat. Well, this weekend we went to the Ohio State Fair and he rode in an alligator boat. It was a kiddie ride with no parents allowed and after some initial reticence, he finally agreed to get on alone.

And he had a BALL!!!!!!!

Then, confidence boosted, he also went on "the bug ride" by himself.  Also a big hit.

I kept looking at him this weekend and thinking that I didn't know where this very big boy had come from.

June: A summary

1. Gardening - After lovingly and laboriously planting, watering, and watching over our garden, it was discovered by the bunnies and completely deforested.  Well, except the cilantro and the basil.  But tomatoes, peppers, broccoli, carrots, dill - all gone.  We were left with two small patches of herbs, two watermelon plants, and some straggly green onions.

We, however, refused to be as decimated as our garden.  We persevered with the help of Lowe's and the farmer's market.  We bought some small plants and built a fence.  The tomatoes are flowering and we seem to be back in business.

2. Health - I have been sick for what is starting to feel like years.  A progression of stubborn colds and a general malaise, and a lymph node in my neck that just wouldn't go away.  Finally, the oncologist within me on red alert, I had a biopsy of the offending node.  The diagnosis is Kikuchi disease, a self-limited autoimmune condition that should resolve within 6 months at the most.  As the name might imply, this is found most commonly among the Japanese.  Since I am decidedly caucasian, this diagnosis confirms my general classification as unusual.  I feel pretty confident that my PCP and I know exactly the same amount about this disease because we read the same E-medicine article.  In any case, I am slowly getting better.  I have had laryngitis for almost two weeks, but even that is getting better and I am loosing my husky, sexy baritone.

3. Running - Because of the above mentioned malaise, I have not been as consistent in my gym attendance as previously, but I am still eking along, genuinely loosing weight and  . . . drumroll please . . . I jogged for a full 20 minutes for the first time since I was in med school.  I went back this morning and it wasn't exactly a skip through the tulips.  More like roses.  Really thorny roses.  But I made it.  And really my biggest problem was this cough so I am confident I'll be back to three times a week this week.

4. Work - Dave started a new job - he is now a trainee in the financial planning program for Morgan Stanley Smith Barney.  Starting in November he will be available for all your financial planning needs.  This is a big exciting change for him and one that he has needed to make for a while.  But it is also throwing our household into chaos.  He actually has a schedule and work hours and an immense lack of flexibility.  We're getting up earlier which makes EVERYONE, even the little one, cranky.  But it's good and he's studying like he's back in school.  This will be his "first year of fellowship".

5. Research - July first starts what was going to be my last year at Pitt but that may be changing slightly.  I just found out I won a grant from the St. Baldrick's Foundation - remember the folks Dave shaved his head for? - and it is a two year grant.  So, between Dave's training program and the awe-inspiring fact that someone wants to pay me real money to do what I am loving doing, we may be here a titch longer than originally planned.  Things are going along swimmingly and I even presented my data at a local research symposium.  Seeing that this was my first real research presentation ever and that most of the other presenters had PhD's and had clearly done this before, I was shocked to win an "Outstanding Presentation" Award. (And thrilled by the cash.)

6. School - Nate graduated to the "Toddler" program at school.  Complete with certificate and room change.  He LOVES his new teachers and talks nonstop about all the fun he had at school when he comes home.  I think he had really outgrown the stimulation available in the Tot room which pretty much consisted of looking at picture books and listening to the same CD.  Now there is s train table and a "kitchen" and shopping carts and "babies" to feed.  Plus dress up clothes and playing in the little pool two times a week.  Plus, wait for it, a pretend vacuum cleaner.  He is playing with this almost every time I pick him up.  This morning, clutching a kiss a la "The Kissing Hand" he sat down to eat his breakfast "like a big boy" and did not cry when I dropped him off.  I have all fingers and toes crossed and a braid in my hair in hopes that this will continue.

7. Growth - Nate is firmly over 25 pounds and tall enough to climb whatever he wants and to harvest any item of his choice from all but the very center of the dining table.  I am proud of him, so happy that he feels well, and unabashedly acknowledge that there were advantages to a pee wee boy.

Overall June has been a good month for our family.  I am sorry I was away so long.  I can't promise that it will never happen again, but I have a lot swirling around in my mind to write about so it may be more consistent for a while.

Technical Data

Simply put: a baby's growth is supposed to follow a curve.  That's why they call it a growth curve.
This is Nate's.  He did OK until he was 9 months old and then he "fell off" in medical lingo.
Now, at 2 years old, he is firmly back on.  He's 5th percentile for weight (above) and height (not shown but equally impressive).
23 pounds 12 ounces.  32 1/2 inches. Head - large and full of brains.

******

He has been on the budesonide-Splenda slurry (his "sweet medicine") for about 2 1/2 weeks now and the change is marked.  I think he must have actually been uncomfortable a lot of the time.  Because suddenly, it's like having Nate in high-def with Dolby digital surround sound.

When we bring him home from school at night he doesn't want to whimper and cling to me.  He wants to run around, giggle, make up games, and do a truly hysterical penguin impression.  I think it's been 2 days since he burped and told me he had a "yellow spill" in his mouth.  We have had a few very fun family evenings just playing.  It's nice.  It's nice to have a baby who is well.

Here We Go!

He came home from the hospital on Super Bowl Sunday two years ago, and nestled on my chest during a Steelers win.

This year, he will be a little more active.

Let's Go Steelers!!!!!!!!!

Big Two

It happened on Sunday.

Our boy turned two.

In anticipation of the big day, Papa Ken and Grammy Nancy (Papa Ten and Ninny), taught him to "make two" which he does with two hands and a clear flush of pride.

He uses roughly a million words, makes them into complex sentences, sings nearly non-stop, and knows his favorite books by heart (making it a tad difficult to shorten things up when bedtime is over due :P  )

Currently we have been dubbed the "Dactyl" family.  Mommy dactyl, Daddy dactyl, and Nate dactyl.  We live in the cave under our dining room table and make squawking noises while Nate dactyl barks out directions.  "Mommy dactyl sit down on blue!  Daddy dactyl rest now!  Mommy dactyl read book! Nate dactyl go through tunnel!"

He loves dinosaurs and chocolate cake.

He says please and thank you and sorry (yorry mommy, yorry Nate bonk mommy head, Nate kiss mommy head) and excuse me.  He also says "Nate hear that" with a decidedly mischievous twinkle in his eye when he burps or has gas.

He loves to build with blocks, make music on ANYTHING, paint, draw, cut with scissors, and help mommy cook.

He's frankly amazing.  And yes, he's two.

My Little Mynah Man

I've been counting while my two boys sleep.  I'm up over 200 and I know I'm forgetting some.  The list includes yellow and bulldozer and stinkbug and please.  Also walk and ride and astronaut and biplane.  Wine, milk, chocolate, and guitar.  My favorite right now may be "pilgrim" (pronounced "bum")
I'm not counting numbers, letters of the alphabet, or animal sounds.  Just words.  Words that Nate says reliably and frequently.

And yes, I'm bragging.  I'm amazed by my little boy who is expected to say 50ish words at this age but instead puts together 3-4 word sentences.  If you give him an opening he'll tell you the story of the two stinkbugs who were walking on his wall but daddy took them away in a tissue. To go pee pee in the potty.  Or he might tell you about airplanes and helicopters flying up, up, in the sky.  He may even tell you about rolling the yellow ball to Kent in gym class right before they crawled through a blue tunnel.

Of course, chances are also good that as an uninitiated person you may not understand a lot of it.  But if he told you "Nate please ice water, right now!" I think that one would come through loud and clear.  If he sees someone give you something or do something for you and you don't say thank you, he'll  say it over and over until you acknowledge him and thank the individual in question.

He uses a new word every day.  None of them, yet, things he has overheard that we would rather him not say.  All of them bringing joy into this house one precious syllable at a time.

The Golden Years?

So far second year of fellowship is awesome.  I don't have much weeknight call - none at all in July, and so last night, on what would traditionally have bee the night I would have come home from work late and been on call and getting paged all night, Dave and I celebrated.
We sat on the deck, enjoying our new patio furniture, listening to the planes overhead and watching the fireflies blink.  We talked about truly deep aspects of our lives like tiki torches and Nathan's delight in his pint sized deck chair.
It was wonderful.
I do have one complaint though.
This morning I have itchy mosquito bites. 
I never got mosquito bites as a first year fellow.

The Hot Stepper

Little scamp! He waited until 15 minutes after I left for work.

Transformation

Today, a week after his first birthday, my baby came to look like a little boy.

He was born with hair and it has just kept growing. For the last 2 months, or so, it has hung in his eyes. I have developed a habit of pushing it aside just so he can see. A week ago I put a barette in his hair and Nathan looked a lot more like a Natalie. We wanted to wait until he was 3 to cut his hair, but it has just become impractical. So today we gave him a little trim.

Before, in the bathtub, with long baby hair.

Shampoo mohawk

During, being distracted by Daddy and a good book.

After, a big boy eats his noodles.

Otitis Media + Gastroenteritis = Misery

Nate's had ear infections and a sinus infections, but Dave and I agree that until now, he's never really been sick.

I think he's finally getting better.

It started on Thursday with a fever of 102F at day care. Fever came 2 days into a course of antibiotics for a yicky sinus infection that Dave and I finally got tired of wiping off our own clothes and hands. Back to the pediatrician for shiny new antibiotics for his not-so-shiny new ear infection (his fifth in 6 months and the final clue that myrigotomy tubes are in his future). He started to throw up Thursday night. We first attributed it to choking/gagging on the copious snot in his head, but the diarrhea started Friday morning, blowing away that fantasy. He had a fever of 102F or higher from Thursday afternoon to Saturday evening. Tylenol. Motrin. Tylenol. Motrin. Tylenol. Stopped the Motrin 'cause he wasn't peeing and Dr. Mom wanted to save his kidneys.

I'd be ashamed to write down how little he drank, how little he kept in, how few times he peed, and how much came out of every other opening between Friday and Sunday.

On Friday night we were woken by a pitiful mewling. My sweet baby was laying in a little pool of vomit, clothes wet with diarrhea, and nearly smoking with fever. The thermometer confirmed eminent spontaneous combustion - 104.6F. When I did the conversion to Celsius the next morning (40.3C) I realized I had never taken care of someone with a higher fever. I sat in the rocker tired, sweaty, with a naked, stinky, nearly limp baby on my chest and murmured, like a mantra, the "fever talk" I had given to so many other parents in the Emergency Room. It is less reassuring when the child is your own. The fever dropped to 102F and he dropped into restful sleep right before I dropped into panic.

He kept drinking just enough to stay above my IV fluid threshold but never enough that I felt 100% comfortable.

Last night he seemed a lot better. He had no fever. He drank a whole 6 ounces at once and ate his first solid food in days. He motored around the living room smiling and babbling like normal. Still, his ongoing poops made him a day care pariah.

Today, instead of being at the hospital with a floor full of sick oncology patients, I am at home with a borderline febrile, gagging, pooping, fluid refusing, whining baby with the saddest butt in creation. He cries when he poops and he cries when I clean his butt. He cries 'cause he's thirsty and cries when he swallows things into his roiling stomach. He cries when we wipe his wet Rudolph nose. Being at the hospital would be easier.

Still, I do think he's getting better. His last temperature was normal. His last poop stayed in his diaper. he ate and retained a graham cracker and some yogurt.

The drinking and the peeing?

I still don't want to talk about it.

I WILL persevere and he WILL take some liquid. - One teaspoon at a time.

End of an Era

I took a ticker off the bottom of my page tonight. Likely no one will notice but it makes me a little sad. Before I deleted it, it said "Proud Mommy, Happy Baby - I've been breastfeeding for 9 months, 4 weeks and 2 days". That wasn't completely true. I just deleted it tonight, but Nathan hasn't nursed in about 2 weeks. His teeth were the deciding factor. He stopped biting almost as quick as he started, but those little top teeth just kept causing inadvertent damage. Plus, the supply was way, way down.
He finally started taking formula without much of a fight, but I stubbornly kept pumping my 4-6 ounces per day until his nine month birthday. Then, with a huge sigh of relief, I left the pump behind. I loved feeding my baby but I never loved the pump. I don't believe anyone who says they do.
I gave up the pump and kept the bedtime feedings until he seemed to want volume more than comfort and then, even bedtime became bottle time.
Now, he's learning how to drink out of a cup and he's stopped pulling my shirt down when he's tired or thirsty. Big steps forward in my little man's life. I honestly miss my tiny baby curled up on my chest but I my active explorer doesn't give me much time to look backwards. Gotta keep looking one step ahead of him to keep him out of harms way.

Thanksgiving #1

Nathan crawls, yes, honest to goodness crawling, around friends Ann and Dave's house on Thanksgiving afternoon.

He enjoys a pre-dinner carrot snack while hanging out in the kitchen (where else do people congregate?)

After dinner things got a little weird when Cecilia tried to pants Nathan and we all laughed and took pictures

And we ended the evening with a little snuggle.

We ate Ann's first turkey (way better than my first was), gorged ourselves on delicious stuffing (Nate's favorite), and topped it all off with a tasty pie. Considering I worked a lot of the day it turned out to be quite a lovely holiday.

Gimme, gimme

Nathan is talking to us.
Sort of.

The last two days have been the best of the last 2 weeks because I have been able to leave the hospital at 5pm, pick my boy up from day care and spend the evening with him. Last night I watched him swim with his dad and fed him a huge and varied dinner. (Who doesn't like roasted butternut squash with cinnamon sugar? And Cheerios?!?) Tonight we played and sang and snuggled.

And he talked to me.

At first I didn't realize he was doing it. I was carrying him around getting his dinner ready and he was waving his right hand. Fist closed. Hand going up and down and up and down and up and down. Pediatrician-mommy was starting to think he was having a partial seizure. I fed him some dinner and cleaned him up and palyed on the floor with him. The whole time he was intermittently waving that little fist.
Fist wave. Food in mouth.
Fist wave. Crawl into Mommy's lap.
Fist wave. Rubber duck into mouth.
Fist wave. Belly scoot over to music cube.

And I still didn't get it.
But finally, I wised up.
Dave and I were sitting on the floor eating dinner and to distract Nathan from our oh-so-attractive bowls of pasta I brought out a bag of Cheerios.
Wave, wave, wave went the fist as he lunged at the bag with mouth open.

Light bulb above Mommy's head.
Ah Hah! He's trying to tell me something!

The path through Mommyhood is paved with good intentions, but I never have managed to buy that book on baby sign. I have made an earnest effort to teach him "more" and "all done", the signs I know, but the fist wave was new to me. It was also news to me that the ladies at day care try to teach them baby sign, a fact that Dave confirmed.

We had to look it up, but we found out it's the sign for "milk". To Nathan, however, it seems to be the sign for "give me that please". Or just "gimme".

I am thrilled that my boy is talking to me.

He's so smart!!!

His Two Front Teeth

Nathan has four front teeth. He cut his two bottom teeth simultaneously at 5 months old. At 7 months the bottom two popped through on the same day. He took teething with the same equanimity he takes everything else. He didn't fuss or sleep badly. He chewed like mad on his rubber ducks. And fingers. But that was about it.

****

I was looking at Nathan's little teeth and it struck me that they seem awfully small. He will have these teeth until he is in elementary school. They have to chew up all the food he needs to nourish his little growing body and brain. They have to shine in his charming little smile for years. No doubt they'll be tools in fiendish 4 year old projects. He already uses them to balance himself when he is pulling up on his cruising toy. They've been used to scrape onion and crack Cheerios. All that work for such tiny little teeth in my big boy's jaw.

****

He has the "Lamb space" - a largish gap between the top two teeth, passed from my Dad through me and into my little Beaver-Bunny.

****

The top two teeth may prove to be the end of breastfeeding. It is physiologically impossible for a nursing baby to bite with bottom teeth while actually eating. The tongue forms a nice little barrier. When the top ones come in, however, all bets are off. He bit me once, experimentally, when he had only bottom teeth. He didn't do it again until he had two top teeth so he could trap my tender tissue between two razor-sharp, steel-hard, crushing-cutting implements. There were two problems. One was the bleeding lesion. The other, more egregious, problem was that my loud, fierce, soul-rending "NO" caused my little darling to start, stare at me for an instant, and then giggle. After all, the "make-a-funny-loud-noise" game is one he loves, being an adrenaline junkie. It seems I will have to find another biting deterrent, but it's hard to think rationally when I am suppressing the urge to toss him away and whimper. So far, I am perservering, but I am a little nervous every time I bare flesh for the newly minted vampire I am raising.

****

Looks like he could be getting molars for Christmas.

I've been busy this last month, but so has Nathan.

He has:

- become an expert commando crawler, scooting around at shocking speed

- cut his two front top teeth, simultaneously, allowing Mommy to see an eruption hematoma in real life

- learned how to put balls on his ramp

- pulled himself to stand on something other than parental fingers

- proved that he will eat anything: peas and wild rice (blech-gag), banana, watermelon, grapes, sweet potatoes, pumpkin, apple, carrots, toast, avocado, waffles, tomato, and even raw onion

- started swim lessons

Heard at My House Today

"Please don't smear the carrots with the hand Mommy just washed"

"Oh my goodness, you have carrots in your eyelashes!"

"Your hair smells like sweet potatoes . . . but you ate those yesterday"

Mommy: "Yum, yum, yum, yum, yum"
Nathan: slurping, sucking, smiling

All in all, starting solids is a lot of fun.

Thoughts on the Beginning

"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end." - with apologies for not knowing the source.

I have made it through the first three week rotation of my fellowship. I spent those three weeks on the inpatient oncology service taking care of patients at all stages of cancer diagnosis and treatment. I guess it sounds like it could be sad, but to me it is a place of incredible hope. A place where we treat every child as if they have a chance of growing up and going to college, and really, most of them do. For me, it flew by. The hours were long. It was challenging. I learned a lot. I met wonderful families and acquired my first few patients. I had an excellent teacher. I missed out on several hours of sleep. I turned out to be very good at what I do. I also loved just about every second of it.

The only downside for me was missing my family. I don't think much about it at work because I am busy and time flies, but when I get home I ache for how much I am missing. While I have been working, he has learned to sit on his own, sprouted a tooth, and gained excellent hand eye coordination. One of the best parts of my day is snuggling him to sleep at night. He reaches up and grabs my cheek and then snuggles his face into my chest and we usually doze off together - sometimes me first.

This next 3 week period is supposed to be a little easier and maybe I'll get to spend more time with my family. I'll miss it though. It really helped clarify what I want my grown-up job to look like.

Aren't baby butts cute?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

Guess What?!?!?!?!

I'm only doing a rose this week.

5 months 1 week

My Bigger Boy

I have devoted a couple months now to talking about the life of my little boy. I now want to talk for a minute about my bigger boy.

I met Noah when he was five months old. I was babysitter/friend/nanny/playmate/partner-in-crime for a few years before I moved to Pittsburgh for med school. I always talked about him so much that when Dave and I met, Dave thought "my boy Noah" might actually be my son. When I met him, he's didn't even sit up on his own. Now he's graduated from fifth grade and had a poem published in the Harvard Educational Review. I'm bursting with pride.

Of course, I've always known he was brilliant. He met just about every milestone early, and taught me all sorts of valuable mommy lessons along the way.

1) Just because it's in the book, doesn't mean it will work for your child. - I used exactly once the trick of saying "good-bye" and walking away when he was refusing to leave the place where we were playing. He was supposed to run after me, but three year old Noah looked up from his sandcastle, smiled happily, and waved. "Bye Nana! Tell mommy boy stay beach by self!" And so I dragged him kicking and screaming from the beach instead.

2) Nothing is better than being hugged around the knees and being told "You're my best."

3) It's important to keep perspective when a child tells you they want to throw you in the trash. Chances are you have earned their wrath by preserving one of their vital physical features. Besides, they'll be your best friend again soon.

4) Think of popcorn as a vegetable and it makes a fine dinner. Subtext: pick your battles.

5) No one can plan a felony like a pre-schooler.
Nana (Jen): How can we get one of these cool swing sets?
Noah: I can make some money.
Nana: (thinking employment) How are you going to do that?
Noah: (exasperated eye roll) Um, on the the printer.

It really is an accident that "Nathan Isaac" has the same syllables and cadence as "Noah Hawkins", but it's been perfect because I know where my son's name fits seamlessly into all the baby songs I used to sing. It's also been complicated because "Noah Hawkins" or "baby Noah" ARE the words to those songs in my head. Putting in Nathan's name has been a little like learning a spoof when you can sing the original in your sleep. When it is late at night and I am tired, "Hush little Noah" is just as likely to come out as "Hush little Nathan". The first time it happened I felt bad all around. Bad for Nathan who was getting someone else's second hand song. Bad for Noah who's song was being passed on. Bad for me who was so far away from my big boy who I miss every day. Now, I just smile. After all, I couldn't love either of these boys more than I do.

Recovery

I've been asked to confirm the fate of my car.
It required an organ transplant (a new alternator) and goes tomorrow to have some car cancer removed (rust repair and repainting) but otherwise seems to be quite happy to keep going. I'm counting on it for another 3 years. After fellowship I can get the big bad attending car. (If we don't spend all our money on first class tickets to Australia, that is.)