On the Road Again

Isaiah and I just got back from South Dakota for a week long visit to my parents. It was wonderful. Isaiah had such a good time visiting my family, and why shouldn't he have? He was the star of the show everywhere he went. Everyone loves him no matter what, but there's absolutely nothing to compare to two sets of grandparents fawning over you.

Michael's parents drove Isaiah and I out to Rapid City, which if you think about it, is an incredibly charitable and brave thing to do. Not many people would volunteer their time and gas money to spend 9 hours in a car with a baby. Michael had to stay in Minneapolis to work, and it was the first trip for both Isaiah and I without him. Isaiah was an absolute angel in the car, partly because he's a naturally sweet and mellow kid, and partially because I had been pumping milk for days in anticipation of this drive. We stopped twice for gas and food, and only one extra time for a diaper change. Honestly, I didn't even know babies came this good.

Isaiah really impressed my mom, the physical therapist, with all of his physical prowess. He rolled over a few times and pushed up into "prone prop" and almost balanced while sitting and used his strong, chunky legs to stand all the time, so I guess she was right to be impressed. It was so wonderful to see my parents interact with Isaiah and vice versa. My mom plays with him in the same ways and uses the same high-pitched voice that I do, and Isaiah gets very excited and alert with her. My dad, on the other hand, is very serene and mild with him and just carries him around and explains their surroundings in a soothing voice, so Isaiah is relaxed and calm with him. Andy is, well, sweet and pretty doting, but he's never really been around a baby at all, so he's still a little nervous, and it shows. Each time he holds Isaiah though, they have a better time together. I know that if we got to see one another more often, the two of them would bond like glue. It's beautiful to see the delight they each take in him in their own ways.

In truth, this was one of my favorite visits back home. I've always loved seeing my family and I miss them so much when I'm gone, but it was so wonderful to bring Isaiah home to my parents and Andy. They were all so reassuring in my parenting skills, that I was able to really relax and enjoy the whole time with them and not have to worry that I'm taking care of Isaiah in ways they might not approve of. I am so blessed with my family - and Michael's family too. I hear horror stories all the time of mothers who have to deal with interfering grandparents, who criticize and undermine and do all sorts of awful things. I have parents and in-laws who support me and love me and truly want to help me and give Isaiah their best, and I can feel how it makes me a better mom. I am so glad Isaiah will grow up in such an incredible family.

If it weren't for the fact that I really missed Michael, I would have wanted the vacation to go on for at least another week. I never feel like my visits are long enough, and, in truth, they aren't. Now that I had Isaiah with me, though, I could have stayed for sooo long. Although, his sleeping and eating schedule got way off because he partied too hard.

On the way back home, Isaiah still did wonderfully. He didn't really fuss at all until we were almost all the way back to our place. Then, during the last five or ten minutes of the drive, he screamed and cried. Poor baby. I couldn't get him into his carseat for two days after that because he had absolutely had enough travel. So, we stayed home and relaxed. Truthfully, I wasn't really relishing the thought of going anywhere anyway. A baby is a great excuse to stay home, if that's what you're into.

Seeing Spots

Isaiah got a rash this week. It was terrible. At least, it was terrible for Michael and I. Isaiah, as a matter of fact, didn't seem to mind or notice that he had a rash at all.
Michael and I were visiting friends of ours from the Caribou where I worked while I was pregnant. Isaiah's diaper was wet and he was getting fussy about it, so I went into the bathroom to change it. Then, as I was putting a dry diaper back on him, I noticed that there were little red dots on his cute little tush. Then I looked at his stomach and saw that there were red dots on it as well. They were pretty faint, and I figured they were from his clothing. My guess was that I had forgotten to wash that outfit in baby detergent and had washed it in regular detergent instead. No worries. So I kept him naked (except for the diaper) and figured it would go away. Instead it got much, much worse.

The dots became much more red (although they stayed as tiny as pin pricks) and spread to everywhere on his body. Everywhere. He had tiny dots in the soles of his feet, the palms of his hands, the inside of his ears, the top of his head. Everywhere. We took him for a walk and let the sun shine on his little legs, and his legs became grotesquely covered in harsh, bright red dots. Michael gave him a bath hoping that the water would sooth his skin, and it did nothing. I learned so much in those three days about rashes it was ridiculous. I learned that this was NOT heat rash, nor impetigo, nor roseola, nor anything else that I could find on the internet. When we finally got him to the doctor, she didn't know what it was either, but she could tell us, from looking in his ears and nose and throat, that he didn't have a virus to go along with it, so he would most likely be alright.

All this time, Isaiah was happy and carefree, and still didn't seem to notice the rash at all. I think the whole rash was more harmful to my health than his, and within a day or two, it was all gone. I think the most he suffered from it was when I had to check his temperature rectally twice a day. Oh, and at this doctor's visit, he weighed 16 pounds, 4 ounces.

On a less stressful note, Michael has a job (yay!) and he likes it a lot (yay!) Also, Isaiah has been rolling over more frequently and with less visible effort. I can't believe how much he grows up every day. I wish he could remember these times when he gets older. They are such sweet and exciting times for me, and when I see how much fun he has, I think of how wonderful it would be if he could look back 20 years from now and say "Oh, I remember how much it used to crack me up when my dad would blow on my stomach." or "Yeah, it was pretty cool to take naps twice a day in my mom's arms." I guess I'll just have to remember it all for him. It's an amazing treasure that I have, being able to watch Isaiah grow up and gradually, already, change from being my baby into his own person. I love it, and it breaks my heart at the same time. I would like to be able to hold him forever, but already he wants his own independence. It's very odd to feel so excited for changes, yet not want them to come at all. My consolation is that when he was a newborn, I never wanted him to grow out of that stage because it was so wonderful and sweet, but every day (with one or two exceptions) has been better than the day before. I love watching my baby grow.

It's a Scream

This week has been full of unpacking and reorganizing in our new home. Most of all, though, this week has been full of playing. I love playing with Isaiah, and I absolutely prefer it to unpacking. Therefore, I spend much, much more time playing with him than doing actual housework. And I feel quite good about this decision. The number one thing I have heard from moms who have grown-up kids is that they wish they could have spent more time with them, or that the time I have with him now is "so precious...so fleeting." I've never actually heard a veteran mom tell me to spend less time with my baby and more time taking care of other things, especially other things like laundry. At the same time, to be honest, I still feel a pressure to have a perfect (or nearly perfect) looking home with organized cupboards and a tidy basement. I feel like some part of my worth as a mother and wife comes from having glistening kitchen counters and dust-free ledges. I'm not exactly sure why I feel this way, since Michael is always sweet and never makes me feel like a failure when I let parts of the house go. Isaiah, of course, never cares about the condition of the house at all as long as he's looked after and fed. I also happen to know tons of women in the same situation as me. Why do we feel that we have to be responsible for all of this? Why do we feel that it speaks of our value as moms and wives? Try as I might to just let it go, something in me feels guilty when I see a pile of dirty clothes. Then again, something bigger in me feels joy when I spend time with my husband and my baby boy.

We are really relishing this time before Michael has to report to a full time job. In many ways, it's a nice place to be in - after graduation and before the 9-5 workweek. Michael gets to spend more time with Isaiah than so many dads do. He gets to share in all his triumphs and joys and milestones. At the same time, I know that Michael wants a job as quickly as he can get one. Of course we both do, and at times we definitely feel the pressure of having no income, but it's such a blessing, too. I know that whenever Michael does go back to work, I'm going to miss him during the day.

Isaiah has now, truly found his little voice, and guess what...it's not so little. He loves to scream and yell at the top of his lungs. It's not an angry or sad scream (most of the time,) it's a scream of pure exhilaration at having discovered that his own tiny body can produce such a loud noise. He screams when he sees someone he knows. He screams when he sees someone new. He screams when you smile at him. He screams when he wants your attention again. He screams when you're playing a game with him. He screams when he gets slightly tired of the game. He screams when he's really tired of the game. And he screams right before he begins to cry because by now he's really sick of the game. Did I mention that all these screams sound exactly the same. I know that somewhere in that sequence he went from excited and happy to tired and frustrated, but he's making the same sound for everything. By the time I figure out he's no longer having tons of fun, it's too late. Still, it's pretty cute to watch him when he happy screams.

Isaiah's favorite place to scream is in his Johnny Jump-up. Yes! We got him a Johnny Jump-up, and it's, apparently, fun enough to scream about. He can't really jump in it yet, but he can stand in it, and I guess that's enough for him. My guess is that he thinks he's standing on his own, which I'm pretty sure is his dream for now. He loves standing the way I love chocolate - he just can't get enough of it. To be honest, we could have just gotten him a Johnny Stand-up (Stanley Stand-up?) and he would have been just as thrilled, but we're hoping he figures out how to jump in it soon. According to Michael's parents, Michael love his Johnny Jump-up when he was a baby and I have seen pictures of him grinning in his old jump-up the way Isaiah grins in his. Like father, like son.

Grabby Hands

We are now moved into our new little home. And I have to say, it's pretty homey. We still have boxes of stuff in inconvenient places all around, and we haven't hung any pictures up on the wall, and I still forget where I've stored items in the kitchen, but we're home!

Isaiah really took the move in stride. As of yet, I don't actually think he's noticed that we are living in a different place. Mommy's here, Daddy's here, Old MacDonald's Animal Play Farm is here...nothing else really matters. I seriously doubt he ever knew where he was in the first place. He is just happy wherever he goes, which makes me happy wherever he goes too.

Isaiah has become a grabber, and I couldn't be more excited. He just started actually reaching out for his toys of interest a few days ago. It's so cute to see the intense concentration on his face while he works out all the details. I feel like his thoughts are just perfectly displayed on his cherubic little face.
"Let's see...that Froggie-rattle seems to be four inches away from my face. I better reach out pretty far to get it...Oh! Oh I touched it. Okay, now I've got to open up my fingers...and the thumb...this is always the hard part...come on thumb. I've got...no...no...yes! Got it!"
Then as soon as he gets it in his hand, his immediate goal is to eat it, evidenced by his wide open drooly mouth.

He's really been enjoying biting anything that comes near his mouth lately, which is fine since he doesn't have any sharp little baby teeth. Still, his jaw is getting pretty strong, and he actually cracked my knuckle the other day.

Isaiah still doesn't understand "peek-a-boo," and in fact, the game terrifies him right now. Michael was playing it with him last night, and Isaiah jumped every time Michael appeared from behind the pillow. Then, after a few of those surprises, he put on his saddest little face and began to cry. I guess we'll just stick to funny noises for a while.

Speaking of funny noises, Isaiah has begun to imitate some of the funny noises we make. His best one is the monkey-like noise that you make by pursing your lips together and blowing to make a "Pbth" sound. He cracks up when we do it, and he started trying it on his own about a week ago. He's actually getting very good at it, but he usually ends up blowing a ton of spit bubbles down his chin. Other than the "pbth" noise, I've noticed that Michael and I end up imitating Isaiah much more frequently than he imitates us. He'll happily shout out "Whar!" and we'll answer back "Whar!" Then he'll answer back "a-grur" and we'll respond in kind. Finally, our conversations just end up in a gurgling contest. He always wins.

Isaiah has been doing much better with nursing, for all of you who were wondering. He's stopped being so impatient, and now we're back to the sweet nursing times that we were having before. I think one of the problems was that he was too distracted by his surroundings, so he didn't want to stop and nurse until he was really, really hungry. By that time, he was also usually over-tired and just in a frustrated mood. Now, though, he's been happy to nurse when he needs to instead of waiting until it's too late. He's still pretty interested in his surroundings, though, which can be a little tricky if I'm nursing with other people around. If I speak to someone while I'm feeding, or sometimes if anyone in the room says anything, he'll pop off and look around to see what's going on, leaving me hanging. Not cool, Isaiah. Basically, I have to hold his head in place with my hand and keep a blanket strategically placed so that even if he takes a break to look around, I'm covered.

At our doctor's visit, we were told that we could start feeding Isaiah solid food now if we wanted. We're deciding to wait until he's six month's old, though, because we've heard that's nutritionally best for him. He's less likely to develop allergies or tummy-aches. Beyond that, though, is the fact that I'm not ready for nursing to come to an end. I so enjoy the time I have with my little baby, and the thought of him eating solid foods just reminds me that he won't be a baby for long at all. I'm in no rush; I just want to enjoy nursing him while I still can. Plus, I have read that as soon as a baby starts getting something other than, or in addition to breast milk, their diapers start stinking up the wazoo, and I don't look forward to that either.

Oh, and he just turned 4 months old, he weighs 15 1/2ish pounds, and he's 25+ inches long. How did this all happen? It's just flown by.

I caught a fifteen pounder

This has been a great week with Michael home to help with Isaiah and to give me company. I'm so thankful that he can spend more time with his baby boy, because it's shocking to see how quickly Isaiah grows and changes.

When Isaiah was first a new, newborn, I remember calling my mom and crying because I was so sad that he was going to grow and change and eventually not be my little baby anymore. I remember thinking that no stage could possibly be as wonderful as the one I was in at that moment, when Isaiah was as tiny as could be. He slept in my arms and hungrily ate every hour. He needed me (or Michael) every minute of the day, and he was so marvelous to look at. My mom assured me that it would only get better as he grew and developed, and that every little new thing he did would be so exciting. I didn't believe her one bit, though, and I cried some more. I think my rush of post-pregnancy hormones had something to do with the breakdown, but I was truly sad at the thought of my baby growing up.

I can say now, though, that my mom was right. Every day seems to be better than the day before, and I love watching Isaiah's personality emerge and unfold. I love seeing him smile, and I love playing with him. It's amazing to watch him as he learns something new, and I'm always excited to see what will come next. Being a mommy is great!

Speaking of growing - Isaiah weighs at least 15 pounds now. Michael weighed him on our bathroom scale last week because both of our arms were aching from carrying our baby sumo wrestler around all the time. On the one hand, I was shocked that Isaiah had doubled in weight since his birth. On the other hand, my arms and back had already let me in on that secret. Not only does he weigh more, he wiggles more, so he really puts your hold on him to the test. He really likes to wiggle and kick when I'm holding him over the toilet. I know it's only a matter of time before he wiggles at just the right moment and pees on the ceiling. Oh well. At least I know it's coming.

Isaiah is becoming a very impatient nurser. I express enough milk for one bottle a day for him so that Michael gets a chance to feed him. Now, though, he seems to prefer his bottle over me. When he gets hungry and I try to nurse him, he pulls back crying and screaming more angrily before. I'm pretty sure it's because it takes a few moments for me to let down my milk, and he's gotten used to it coming at the very instant he starts sucking with a bottle. I'm not quite sure what to do about this, but it's not fun at all. Sometimes, if he's already eaten his bottle, we'll even feed him a little water to get him calm enough to actually nurse. I really want to continue nursing him, so I'm hoping this is only a phase. At other times of the day, he still loves to nurse, so I'm pretty hopeful it will pass.

Even when something difficult like this comes up, Isaiah will do something else that is wonderful and endearing that completely makes up for any hassle. Yesterday, he talked to himself in the mirror for at least ten minutes, which was absolutely adorable. He's also playing this game where I hold his hands and he goes from a sitting to a standing position and then grins. Then I plop him down on his little tush and say "plop," and he grins again before trying to stand once more. We could play for hours.

Next week he'll be getting his second round of immunizations and an official weight check. I hate it when they poke my baby.

Isaiah hates cell phones

I had to change my cell phone ring this week. I had a great ring that played Pachabel's Canon in D. It was the song I walked down the aisle to, and it has always been a favorite of mine. Apparently, Isaiah doesn't share my taste in this particular case. Every time my cell phone would ring, he would stick out his lower lip and put on a very sad, pouty face. Sometimes he would even begin to cry before I could shut the silly thing off. I don't know if he just hates the song or if he associates it with me getting up and running off to answer the phone. Either way, it's out and some other, rather generic sounding ring is in.

On a more fun note, we've discovered a new game to play with him. When we blow on his face, he gasps in very quickly, as if to breath in the extra air. Then we laugh because it's so cute and he laughs because he likes to be in on the joke. We even played the game with the hairdryer set on low and cool last night, and he giggled away. I have so much fun with my little guy. He's laughing more every single day, which is wonderful to witness. He's also drooling more every single day, which is kind of funny too, but also embarrassing on occasion. Our friend Deb Goldberg was holding him one afternoon while I tried on bridesmaid's dresses, and when she handed him over to me, she had a gigantic drool puddle on the shoulder of her sharp and classy shirt. Thankfully, she was gracious about it. Once again, the baby gets away with things that the general population just can't pull off.

We're pretty sure a tooth is going to pop through his pink little gums any day now. He's constantly gnawing on his little fingers or our fingers or a blanket or Michael's nose or anything else that comes his way. Except for teething rings, which he is disgusted by. He's still as pleasant as ever, though, and we feel very lucky that we have such a sweet baby. I never imagined how much fun it would be to play silly little games with him. I could do it all day. In fact, some days, I do. He's become much more interested in people around him as well. He often stops eating to look up at me and smile while milk dribbles down his cheek. It's one of the most beautiful images I have ever seen, and I hope that I will be able to clearly be able to bring it to mind for years, because it absolutely melts my heart.

It's amazing that Isaiah can so effortlessly have such a huge effect on me, and he has no idea that he's doing it. In fact, even when he's older, I don't know how I will ever be able to tell him the impact he has had on my life. I love Isaiah more selflessly that I have ever loved anyone. That's not to say that I don't love Michael just as much as I love Isaiah - I truly, truly do. It's just that I know that Michael loves me back, and he shows me in tender, sweet ways every single day. Isaiah does nothing - he smiles at me and coos, and that's enough to bring me to my knees and want to spend my entire day taking care of him. It's something I can't even pretend to understand.

Although I know that I will never be able to posses, or even fathom, the endless, selfless love that God has for me, I feel that getting married gave me slightly more understanding of it, because I love to serve Michael and do whatever I can for him, and even to just watch him do mundane thing like sleep or make a sandwich. Then having a baby gave me slightly more understanding still of God's love, because I love to serve him, and give to him, and I don't expect him to return the favor in the least. I can't even guarantee, through all this loving I am giving to Isaiah, that he will like me the least bit when he grows up. It doesn't matter at all, though, and I know that if one day Isaiah decides to declare that he hates me, I will still love him. It makes me so grateful for all the love God has given me, and of course, the love he has given to Michael and Isaiah.

Gulp, smack, uh!

I got my husband back! Michael's portfolio show is now finally finished and his work is done, so now he gets to re-enter the land of the living. He's currently upstairs right now sleeping off the last semester and snuggling with Isaiah.

Isaiah and I went to the portfolio show both days to hang out with Daddy and see all the work that people put into it. If you didn't go - you really missed out. It was pretty impressive. Isaiah and I spent at least 6 hours there each day, and he was such a little trooper. I was so impressed with how good and happy he was the entire time. Of course, I know what a mellow little sweetie he is, so I wasn't too surprised. All the other graduates at the show were absolutely floored, though. They couldn't believe how wonderful he was the entire time. People absolutely marveled at how calm and happy he was and how sweet he looked all cuddled into the sling. (Yes, I got my new sling - Hooray!) Every time one of Michael's classmates began to become immune to Isaiah's cuteness, he just smiled or yawned or sneezed or did something else that brought them right back to their knees.

After the last day of the show, everyone went out to Solera, which is a fun, classy bar-type place. Of course, Isaiah came right along in the sling and hung out with everyone. He slept for part of the time, but mostly, he just socialized. The bartenders and waitresses were also head-over-heels for Isaiah. Now that the craziness of the Portfolio Show is all done, though, we have to get him back on a schedule.

Yesterday Michael, Isaiah, and I all went to at award ceremony for Michael from the Print Industry of Minnesota. Two of his pieces had won awards, and we were sitting through a long, boring speaker waiting to get them. Isaiah became hungry, but I had him in the sling and was wearing a shirt that was incredibly easy to nurse in, so he barely let out a whimper before I was feeding him. Unfortunately, that's where the finesse ended. I figured people would barely even notice that I was feeding him because he was covered with the sling, and I had a blanket over my shoulder and his head to further the modesty. However, Isaiah is one of the nosiest nursers ever. He's just so excited to be nursing, he can't help it. At first it was just very loud gulping and smacking, but then he started grunting every time he swallowed, so it was:
"Gulp, smack, uh! Gulp, smack, uh!" Then, it apparently tasted so good that he began sighing as well. "Gulp, smack, uh! Aaaaaah. Gulp, smack, uh! Aaaaaaah." It was a little embarrassing, but it was mostly funny, so I giggled for much of the time and tried to shush him for a little bit.

Then, yesterday afternoon, Uncle Peter came over to watch Isaiah while Michael and I packed boxes. We got 10 good sized boxes packed, plus all the ones in the garage that I had packed the previous month. I think we're going to take a run down to our new place to relocate some of our boxes there. It's always a hassle to move, but it's always kind of fun as well as you imagine where everything will go. Isaiah did a great job with Uncle Peter, and it will be so nice to have him next door.

Isaiah has figured out how to get his hands into his mouth, and he absolutely loves to suck on them. I think he's working towards his thumb, but that particular concept is just a little beyond him still. For now he just fits as much of his fist as possible into his mouth (sometimes he even tries for both of them) and then smacks contentedly. Once in a while he opens his fist after he's gotten it into his mouth and gags himself on his fingers. Then, he gets this look on his face that says, "That was rather unpleasant." But he sticks his fist right in again.

Oh yeah - Isaiah is now three months old for all of you who are counting. He's my big, little boy.

A day in the life of the sling-less

This is a continuation of the previous post, since I didn’t post for two weeks.

I lost my sling last weekend, my beautiful wonderful sling that I carry Isaiah around in all the time. I left it in a coffee shop, and they threw it away because they thought it was just a giant piece of fabric. I almost cried when I found out. It has been so hard to do anything since he's used to being carried around all the time in it. I've only been able to do things that need only one arm at a time. I had to go grocery shopping with out it, and I actually had to call my mom and ask her how to shop without a sling. It was rather embarrassing. Luckily, Isaiah is incredibly mellow, so I just put a bunch of soft blankets in the seat of the grocery cart that older kids usually sit in and propped him up in that. It worked out alright, but I miss my sling. A lot. I'm pretty surprised with myself, though, because even without the sling, I made two cheesecakes and got our closets cleaned out and several boxes packed and did normal housework. I just did it all very, very slowly.

Michael and I were going to get a new one from the same place as the old one - Kari-me.com. It's a European site, so the price was in euros, and 37 euros didn't sound that bad. Just to be sure, though, we double checked with a currency exchange site and found out that meant $69. We were shocked - it's just a piece of fabric. Luckily, we found the same thing from a place in California - mobywrap.com, and it was half that price. Again, it's just a piece of fabric, so it might seem like we're overpaying, but it's an amazing thing. Honestly, it's like I'm buying third arm for myself.

This week has been pretty crazy on the home front. Michael is working feverishly to get everything prepared for his portfolio show. (If you want to find out more about his show or see some of his work, go to www.2006manifesto.com) I've been trying to take Isaiah out somewhere every day in order to keep distractions to a minimum. Tomorrow, Isaiah and I are going to visit the arboretum with Grandma Walz. I'm excited to spend some more time with her. We have also been taking a lot of walks in this beautiful weather. We took a 2 hour walk the other night, which was twice as long as it should have been because I took a funny turn and got lost. We ended up in a beautiful park somewhere in north Minneapolis, though, and Isaiah had a good time and got lots of fresh air.

Isaiah has started batting at objects now, which is fun to see. We'll prop him up in front of his Old McDonald Farm, which has toys that hang down and swing around in time to music, and he'll bat his little hands at the swinging animals to make them rattle. He also "talks" to them, which is fun to hear. Michael and I are able to carry on pretty good conversations with him now that go something like this:
"So Isaiah, what did you do today?"
(silence and quizzical looks from Isaiah)
"Did you eat lots of milk and pee a bunch of times today?"
"Aaagh, aagh wa aagh."
"Oh, I see, you burped lots of times too."
"Huh aaagh huh uh eeee."

Isaiah has also begun to drool excessively. In fact, I thought that he might be teething incredibly early because he leaves puddles of drool all around. I think, though, that it's just because he's smiling a bunch and talking more, so his mouth is open more often and drool just comes out as a consequence. Whatever the reason, though, I now have wet spots all over my shirt where Isaiah dribbles on me, and he has to wear a bib on top of his outfits all the time. He's cutest bald, chubby, toothless, drooly, bib and diaper wearing little guy I've ever seen.

Happy Easter

Oops - it's been more than two weeks instead of one since I've posted about Isaiah. I have a wonderful excuse, though - I'm the mother of a little baby. I will try to be better, though, because so much happens every single week with him, and I don't want to miss sharing and recording any of it. I'll make two posts today to make up for it.

Actually, I'm finding that I am able to get more and more done these days even with Isaiah taking up 90% of my attention. Now that he's nearly 3 months old (I can't believe it's been that long,) I've found that he can entertain himself for short - very short - periods of time, and he's also become interested in watching me as I do somewhat productive things around the house. That is, he interested in watching me as long as I constantly sing songs and make silly faces at him and make sure his pacifier is firmly wedged into him little mouth at all times.

Over Easter weekend, my family came out from Rapid City, SD to see us. That meant that my grandparents, my dad, and my brother finally got to meet Isaiah. They, of course, all immediately fell in love with him. Between my family and Michael's family, Isaiah wasn't set down for a single moment the entire weekend. He loved it. It was especially fun to see how my grandfather interacted with Isaiah. My grandpa is usually a gruff guy, and he is sometimes rather negative. But when he held Isaiah, all he could do was say what a wonderful, mellow little baby he was, and he just melted into a happy great-grandfather puddle every time he jiggled Isaiah on his knee. We also discovered that Great-grandpa is an expert knee jiggler, and he did a wonderful job of calming Isaiah when he was tense.

My dad also had a lot of fun with Isaiah. He would walk around with him, talk to him, and spend time with him looking at the bubbles in the fish tank (which were much more interesting than the fish in the fish tank to Isaiah.) Isaiah also responded very well to Dad, and we have a host of pictures of Isaiah smiling in Dad's arms. I think Isaiah appreciated how soft and mellow my Dad is, and I'm sure he'll have a good relationship with his grandpa as he gets older. My brother, Andy, was a little nervous at first, I think. I'm sure he just wanted to make sure he didn't hurt Isaiah or make him cry, since Andy really hasn't been around babies that much at all. By the end, though, he was making Isaiah very happy by lifting him up in the air and making airplane noises, just like Michael does. My mom, of course, spent as much time with him as she could, and she got in a pretty fair amount of cuddling and kissing. She was amazed at how much he had grown and how alert he had become since she last saw him when he was only 2 weeks old. I have to agree - Isaiah changes every single day, and I am constantly amazed. Sometimes I silently wish that he would slow down so that I have more time to enjoy every little stage, but at the same time, I'm so excited to see what he's going to do next.

On Easter Sunday, Isaiah was dedicated at our church, which was a wonderful experience. He was dedicated along with two other baby boys - another little Isaiah and a little Titus Will. Michael's family came in so that we all could dedicate Isaiah together. Our pastor prayed for Isaiah and asked us to take the responsibility to be a model of God's love for him and lead him to a place where he would be able to know God and hopefully accept him into his heart. It was so wonderful to do that publicly, in front of our church and family, because my prayer for Isaiah has constantly been that he would come to know Jesus and accept him into his life. More than anything else I can pass onto him, I want Isaiah to have the joy and peace that I have from my relationship with Christ, and I desperately want Isaiah to glorify God with his life. On a less important note - Isaiah was wearing a super cute sweater vest and our camcorder ran out of battery just as the dedication started. Oh well, though.

I'll put up another post with the rest of the goings-on from these last two weeks so that neither of them gets too lengthy.

Monkey Sounds

Isaiah has begun making an entire symphony of sounds now, expanding from his former repertoire of cries and sighs. He coos, gurgles, shouts, grunts, makes an exclamation that sounds like "Yea!" and makes monkey-like sounds. I think he's also figured out how to make different cries for different occasions. (Or I have only recently become competent enough to differentiate between them.) My favorite new noise that he makes, though, is his "belly laugh." He isn't full-out laughing yet, but he does these belly chuckles when he gets really happy that absolutely crack me up. It's a kind of 'huh-huh' sound that a cross between Buddha and a donkey laughing. It's the most wonderful sound I've ever heard. (As I type, he's making oooh and ahhh noises at his stuffed froggie and trying to bat at it.)

This week has been a lot of fun because Isaiah and I have had a few chances to escape our daily routine. Since we're Minnesotans, we've been stuck indoors all day since he was born, but within this last week, we've taken walks at least once, if not twice a day. It's so nice to get outside and into the fresh air, and although Isaiah doesn't really appreciate any of the sights, he does get a nice nap in every time we go. It has the same effect on him as a car ride. We also went to the conservatory and zoo with Grandma and Grandpa Walz, Aunt Laura, and Uncle James. Again, he didn't seem the least bit interested in bright flowers or funny monkeys, but he liked being carried by his family and he liked looking at our faces. Afterward, Grandma and Grandpa, Michael, Isaiah, and I all went to see Ice Age 2. I felt very relaxed because I figured if he cried a little it wouldn't really matter since it was a kid’s movie. Plus it's easy to discreetly nurse in a dark theater where no one is paying the least bit of attention to you. He slept the whole time, though, so it didn't matter.

Isaiah is really working on keeping his head steady and upright, although he doesn't completely have the hang of it yet. He looks a little bobble head most of the time, and when he finally does get it steady and in place, he'll get a case of the hiccups, which throws him off again. It's very cute to see him look around when he's holding up his little wiggly head - he looks at you in absolute wonder, probably trying to figure out why you look so wobbly.

Recently he's been wanting to play when it's time to sleep (as in, midnight through 2 a.m.) So far I'm doing alright since he's usually such a good sleeper and I have a pretty good reservoir of rest. A few more nights, though, and that reservoir will be completely drained, so we'll have to see if next week's post is bright and cheery, or cranky and tired. I won't be able to nap during the day either, because I'm getting ready for my parents, brother, and grandparents to come in for Easter and Isaiah's dedication this weekend. So, just in case he continues in this habit, I'm stocking up on coffee and the new Caribou Coffee ice creams. Yum.

MacGyver Mommy

This has been a very full week with Isaiah. He had his shots, which made me want to cry. He handled them very well, which was definately a relief. He totally screamed when the nurse stuck him with the needle (three times, no less) but by the time she was done putting the Sesame Street Band-Aids on him, he was mostly better, and by the time I took him to Caribou 30 minutes later, he was smiling and flirting with all the customers. I, on the other hand, didn't recover as quickly, and I felt a little down all day. So I cuddled for extra time with him and gave him lots of kisses, which made me feel better. I also used him as an excuse to watch Monster's Inc. because I figured he would enjoy a fun movie. Right. He slept and/or ate through the whole thing. That's alright, though. I still plan on using him as an excuse to watch Finding Nemo next week.

I had to use MacGyver tactics this last weekend because of my failure to keep his diaper bag stocked. We had gone to church in the morning (extremely late thanks to daylight savings time) and I changed his diaper and took him to the bathroom after the service. He peed in the toilet, and I was so proud and excited that I forgot to flush it. Oops. Oh well, though. Then we went to Arby's with Peter and headed to Peter's home after that to check out the adjoining duplex. Then we hung out for quite a while and ate ice cream. After that, I dropped Michael off at home and headed right out again to get tacky 80's clothing for a Lenscrafters meeting/annual party thing that evening. Isaiah slept all through the shopping, and we got home just in time for Michael and I to change into our bad clothing while Isaiah continued to sleep in the carseat. Then we rushed out to the meeting looking 80's fabulous. We enjoyed hot-dogs, b.b.q. sandwiches, nachos, cookies, and rootbeer from a keg and relaxed while people fawned over our ever-adorable baby. Then I realized that I hadn't changed Isaiah since that time in church, and he was now about 6 hours overdue for a potty break. Why hadn't he cried or something? He hates a wet diaper.

So I took him behind a wall to nurse and change him, because there wasn't a bathroom in the meeting place. I spread out a changing pad and took off his diaper. It was so wet and full it must have weighed two pounds. I felt terrible for letting him stew in that wet, nasty thing for hours. Then I wiped him down while he continued to smile and look around. Seriously, I couldn't believe he hadn't cried or fussed at all in that nasty, nasty diaper. He also peed on the changing pad, since I'm sure he had been waiting for me to take him potty for the longest time. Then I reached into the diaper and realized, to my horror, that I had run out of diapers. I couldn't put him back in that nasty diaper from before, so I got Michael and we improvised. I found a maxi pad in my purse, which I stuck to a burp cloth. Then I used to hair ties to fasten the cloth around his legs. Meanwhile, Michael got one of the plastic bags that held hot-dog-buns and tore two holes for his legs. Then we tied it onto Isaiah and called it good. Amazingly, he didn't seem to mind this new arrangement at all, or even find it strange. He did sound a little crinkly, though, whenever he moved his legs.

On the way home, he wet his new "diaper" and, shockingly, the thing worked and kept his outfit dry. I was so proud, and now I know that if I can't manage to have enough diapers with me, I can always find a hot dog stand. (There's a picture of our creation above.) I've also included a picture of Isaiah after we got back from our first walk around the block in the stroller. I suppose it was still a little chilly outside, but he didn't seem bothered by it, and Michael and I really enjoyed taking him out. He's becoming more interested in his surroundings every day, smiling more all the time, and I have a feeling that laughs are soon going to come out of his sweet little mouth. My goal is to get it on tape when he laughs for the first time, so I may have to go around for a while with the camcorder strapped to me. Whatever it takes, though.

Disgusting Stories of Poo

This week I became an official Worrying Mother. I never thought I was the worrying type before, and in fact I wasn’t. I’m really pretty laid back, or at least I was. Now, though, I have a baby to worry about, and I’m doing a terrific job of it. I started noticing that Isaiah’s pee was a darker yellow, and his poop changed color and consistency. (Sorry to everyone out there reading this who isn’t a mom, because it’s gross and you probably don’t understand why anyone would look that closely in the first place.) So I got online to see what it could mean, and lo and behold, it turns out those are signs of dehydration in babies. The signs were listed on numerous websites along with warnings about how Isaiah could die a horrible death if I didn’t fix it soon. So over the course of two days, I watched every single time he went to the bathroom, took his temperature twice a day, collected pee and poop in a cup, and I even smelled a few wet diapers to see if anything suspicious was happening. I came to the conclusion that Isaiah was indeed dehydrated and in grave danger, and so I brought him to the doctor. She checked him out and almost laughed right in front of me, because there was absolutely nothing wrong with him. Apparently he's a super-healthy baby with an overactive worrier for a mother. She wouldn’t even take the sterile poop sample I brought in as proof that he was very sick. She reassured me that he was fine and dandy, and concluded that things changed because Isaiah, unlike most other babies, holds his pee and poop and waits until we take him to the bathroom so it’s more concentrated. She suggested I take him to the bathroom more often and see if it fixed the problem. Of course it did, and I felt like a big worrying idiot. To be honest, though, I didn’t really care, because my little sweetie pie is alright.

I’ve also discovered that Isaiah definitely has a boy’s sense of humor. On Friday, we had a great day out together, and we had been out of the house all day (which was a big relief after being in the house all day for a while.) We had visited Michael at work so that we could have lunch with him, and then Isaiah slept while I walked around the mall for a few hours. It will be so nice when it’s warm enough to walk outside with him. We were finally headed home, and I was slipping Isaiah out of the carrier and into his car seat when he woke up hungry. I decided to just feed him in the car so he wouldn’t be hungry all the way home. As he was eating, I felt him fill his diaper, and I figured I should change it before I started driving, because Isaiah hates dirty diapers. I set down a changing mat on the back seat and got out a new diaper and the travel pack of wet wipes. As I began to change him, I noticed that I only had two wet wipes and made a mental note to refill when we got home. I had him all cleaned up and was lifting his little butt to slip the new diaper underneath, when he grunted and shot out a blast of what looked like guacamole. I screamed in horror as the green poo hit the car, my sweater, my wool coat, the carrier, his legs, the car seat, and my hair. I looked down in shock to see little Isaiah grinning from ear to ear. Yep. He definitely has a boy’s sense of humor. Unfortunately, I had already used the two wet wipes I had, so I just took off my already-pooped-on-sweater and cleaned up what I could while Isaiah smiled on and kicked his feet into even more poop. Then I drove home as quickly as possible, and when we got there, we took a very long bath.

Only someone as cute as Isaiah could get away with pooping on me and still have me so very much in love with him.

Week one...er seven

I decided I needed to write about raising Isaiah because I know that if I don't, years from now I will forget what it was like to have my little baby boy. In fact, I feel bad that I didn't do this from the beginning because there is already so much that has happened in the first seven weeks of his life. He's gone from being a newborn to being...something else, I guess. He's not all curled up anymore, and there's a difference in his eyes when he looks around. His face has become more his, and when I look back on pictures from before, I absolutely marvel at how tiny he was and how gigantic he is now. We will go into the doctor next week to get shots (I'm pretty sure I'm going to cry when they stick my baby, and I might need to be restrained so I don't haul off and deck the nurse who did it) and then we'll get to see how much he's gained. I'm betting he weighs well over nine pounds, though. My little Titan.

I feel very blessed to have such a good baby. I was preparing for a colicky baby because I was one and I figured God would give me my just desserts. I should have known - God always gives me better things than I deserve. Isaiah is just the sweetest little guy I could have asked for. I didn't even know babies came this good. He really only fusses for two or three reasons. He cries when he's hungry and I don't get to him quickly enough and give him lots and lots and lots of milk. He used to cry when we changed his diaper, but that stopped when we stopped using cold wet wipes. I totally understand - I wouldn't want them used on my behind either. Now he just fusses a little if he has to go to the bathroom, and a little more if we don't catch it in time and he ends up going in his diaper. And he cries if he has gas bubbles, but then if you put him tummy down, he'll wiggle his butt in the air until he lets out a toot. It's incredibly cute even though I feel bad for him.

I also feel very blessed to have such a good husband. Michael's wonderful to me - and to Isaiah. I honestly don't know how I would get along without him, and single moms have my newfound respect - as well as my sympathy, because even with a good husband and a good baby, this is hard. To be honest, I don't know how Michael has the energy to be so good to us. He's worked all day long, and he will do homework until late tonight, but despite all that, he's upstairs trying to get Isaiah to pee in the sink so I can sit here and write a little.

Oh - that's one of the most exciting things we've done with Isaiah. We've started potty training him already, and he's really good at it. Instead of just having him go in his diaper, we hold him over the sink and go Pssssssss and he pees (and sometimes poops) in the sink. He still goes in his diaper sometimes because we don't always pay enough attention, but he usually waits and holds it. I think we catch it about half the time and the other half we miss it. It's definately worth it, though, because he hates having a dirty diaper, but he seems to enjoy going in the bathroom. I think it's because he likes the mirror and the bright lights and the fresh air on his cute little bottom. It's also exciting every time he does it because I know it will be so much easier when he's walking and saying "no" to me and we already have so much potty training done. It also makes me feel like I've taught him something which makes me feel important (even though the truth is probably that he has taught me his signals instead of the other way around.) He's learned so much in seven weeks that has had nothing to do with my teaching him. He's learned to focus his eyes and to make different cries for different problems and to hold his head up and to keep his hands in his mouth when he wants them there. He's absolutely amazing.