Trickortreatapillar

We went up to Buffalo for Halloween this year so Grandma and Grandpa Walz could show off their cute little caterpillar to all their friends. I love Isaiah's Halloween costume so much. It's so cute to see him inch around with little caterpillar legs and caterpillar bumps on his back. I would also mention how cute it is to see him scoot about with his fuzzy caterpillar antennae, but he never keeps them on. Some caterpillars are bald, right? Actually, he kept his hat on better than I expected, which was fortunate since it was so very cold.

I decided it would be appropriate for me to dress up as a butterfly to complement my little caterpillar, although apparently it has been suggested by some that I am too old to play dress up. Nonsense! Halloween is one of my favorite nights in this country because a bunch of stuffy, busy, serious Americans take time to throw one gigantic, nationwide costume party for no good reason. I plan on celebrating as long as I can. I also plan on using my children to vicariously celebrate by putting them into adorable costumes and taking lots of pictures of them. (See pictures included as evidence.) Michael dressed up as a burrito because you get a free burrito from Chipotle if you dress up as one on Halloween. He had a tin-foil cape and hat and shoes, and a heart on his shirt that said "I Love Chipotle." He received quite a few funny stares as he walked down the hallway at work, but the payoff was worth it when he received a round of applause at Chipotle along with his free burrito and soda.

There are many more photos of Isaiah in his caterpillar costume as well as Michael in his burrito costume on http://www.flickr.com/photos/59148789@N00/

Happy Halloween everyone!

Work it, baby!

I had a tough night this week. On Saturday I was trying to get Isaiah to sleep. He had stayed up late on Friday and I didn't want to make it a habit, so I was determined to get him to bed on time. Isaiah, however, had other plans. He fell asleep but woke up again after 10 minutes, completely refreshed from his catnap and ready to nurse. So, we nursed and nursed and nursed and nursed. I was getting so very frustrated because all I wanted to do was get out of bed and spend some time with Michael before it was time for us to go to sleep. Finally, after two hours of laying in the dark with Isaiah nursing and me wishing to get up, a thought ran through my tired, cranky head. I am sick of this. I am sick of getting pinched with tiny, sharp fingernails, sick of having my bladder kicked every morning, and sick of being sucked on by a tiny, albeit cute, milk vampire. But oh, my sweet Isaiah - I will never be sick of you. Your sweet, soft skin, your toothy smile, your eager hugs, your beautiful eyes. No matter how many hours I have to nurse you at night, no matter how many sinks full of your dishes I wash. I will never, never be sick of you. You are my little love, and worth every minute of trial.

Isaiah has begun to develop a rather interesting sense of humor. He thinks it's hilarious if I tickle him under his chin with my nose. It's even more funny, though, if I trick him into looking up so I can get to his unguarded little chubby neck. So, as he sits on the potty every morning to do his daily morning deed (he's astonishingly regular) I snap my fingers above his head or hold up a shiny object. Then, when he least expects it, I nuzzle him and he giggles with delight. Of course, he knows exactly what's going on the whole time he's looking up, and sometimes he gives it away with a premature smile or chuckle. So I'm not sure who's tricking who.

I'm trying to give Isaiah three regular meals a day. The transition from exclusive nursing up till now has been pretty slow and steady. After reading a baby cookbook recently, though, I realized how much he could really eat. Not just fruits and veggies cooked a little too long and pureed to oblivion, but cheese, meat, rice cakes, textures! Oh joy! Honestly, Isaiah's meals are much more exciting for me than for him. It's a good thing he puts up with me. Oh, and his new favorite food is organic yogurt with apples and oat cereal. Mmmmm.

Isaiah's charms were put to the test this week. I went to the Hennepin County District Court Service Center to contest a parking ticket we got for expired tabs. I figured we had half a chance because we had actually purchased new tabs but they were sent to our old address. Unfortunately, I went to the wrong place at first and ended up being a half hour late for my appointment with the clerk. At that point, I assumed there was no chance they would waive the fee for us since I had stood them up. But as soon as I got there, the woman at the help desk saw Isaiah in his cute little overalls and waved me to the front of the line. Then, I got in with the clerk right away who thought Isaiah had the most beautiful eyes and was such a good baby. Isaiah smiled at him and batted his long eyelashes while in my head I cheered, Work it Isaiah, work it! The ticket was cleared before I had even explaining the entire situation. Yes!

Isaiah has been wrinkling up his nose a puckering his lips a lot lately. All at once, he looks very angry and like he has just smelled old fish. I'm not sure if he is doing this because he just learned how to make a new facial expression and wants to practice, or if his nose feels stuffed up, or if he's angry, or if he's is smelling some old fish I can't smell. Whichever the case, he usually thinks it's pretty funny if I make the face back at him and snort a little.

Isaiah's Halloween costume is done, and while I really want to post a picture of him in it, I think I should wait until Halloween so everyone can get the full effect. Just be prepared...it's adorable.

Tickle Me Isaiah

Isaiah now has four teeth which you can see in some adorable pictures we have taken. It's amazing how so few teeth can change his face so dramatically. One of his favorite pastimes is feeling his new teeth with his fingers or his tongue or his cheeks. He will suck his cheeks in like a fish and look all around, wondering why I am laughing so hard. He is also figuring out how to use them to eat some very soft foods, like cantaloupe or Daddy's fingers. Actually, he doesn't bite much at all. Usually he only does it when he's very excited and forgets to be gentle.

I am amazed at how deliberate his actions are these days. Just today he was playing with Michael on the bed, and Michael had a ball balanced on the bridge of his nose. Isaiah knocked it off, and then he picked it up and tried to put it back on again. He has also began handing me things he think I will enjoy playing with, such as soft little toy sheep or shiny beads or dirty socks. He must have watched me doing laundry and reached the wrong conclusion. Nevertheless, I am always smitten by the fact that he wants to give me something, so I take the dirty socks happily.

Isaiah is also getting very proficient in moving around. He doesn't crawl on his hands and knees yet, but he's up on his elbows and knees. To be honest, I don't think he needs to be moving any faster than he already is. I have enough trouble keeping up with his. We have removed all the objects from every bottom shelf in the house and replaced them with stuffed toys. I have had to put cabinet locks on and have double-checked all of the sockets to make sure they are baby-proofed. Our home isn't going to get mistaken for a bachelor pad anytime soon.

I got called out the other day by Michael because of something I was doing without even realizing it. Every time Isaiah would get hurt or very upset and Michael was holding him and comforting him, I would take him out of Michael's arms to do it myself. Oops. Here I have one of the sweetest best husbands and dads in the world, and I pull a move like that. It's amazing how strong the urge to hold Isaiah is, though, when he is crying. If I hear or see him crying and he's not in my arms, I get fidgity and upset right along with him. I honestly didn't even realize how much I was taking Isaiah away from Michael until he gently pointed it out. It's like I become a mom-zombie (a mombie?) and I can't think until my baby is happy again.

Isaiah is doing so many new things everyday. About a week ago he began to think it was really funny when Michael or I would purse our lips together and make a 'camel spitting' sound. Then the other day, he did it himself, and he looked to us to see if we would laugh. He also gives more hugs and is mimicking our words. As we crawled into bed one night, Michael said, "Having Isaiah is like having a new toy everyday."

We broke out the warm clothing for Isaiah a few days ago and were surprised to find he still fit into his snowsuit. We bought the snowsuit from an auction while I was still pregnant thinking it would fit early on since it was labeled as "up to 3 months." Well, Isaiah is eight months old, and not exactly a small baby, so I'm not entirely sure what the manufacturers were thinking. I'm just happy we can get some use out if it because Isaiah + Snowsuit = Pretty Darn Adorable.

Eight Months of Cuteness

Isaiah loves me oh-so-much. I can tell because his sweet little face lights up the moment he sees me in the morning, and his beautiful little eyes shine with love for me all day long. If I am out of sight for a little while, Isaiah will squeal with joy when I come back into view, and if I come over to pick him up, he will bounce up and down with his legs and hold out his arms to say "Hooray, my mommy is going to hold me." I am so blessed to have two boys who make me feel so beautiful and loved. Thanks Michael and Isaiah.

This last week on Facebook, I got a comment from an old high school friend whom I hadn't spoken to in years. "you're a mom???? oh man.. i remember the days in govt. class when you were telling me that you were never even going to get married..." I couldn't remember saying that, but I'm sure I did. I do remember in high school thinking that being married (much less having children) was such a far off thing that it was difficult to grasp. Kind of like trying to imagine living in a tree...in Kenya...with flower pots for feet. It was imaginable, but not very realistic at the time. Reading that comment made me realize how very long ago high school was and how different my life is now. It's odd to realize I'm growing up. (Although I still don't admit to being a grown up yet.)

Isaiah is beginning to really like Sesame Street - especially Elmo. I had the T.V. on the other day while we were playing with the Stack-o-Rings, and Isaiah would glance up once in a while to Ernie or the Count, but he was much more interested in how much of the blue ring would fit into his mouth. Then, Elmo came on the screen and started singing about how much he likes his crayon or something, and Isaiah immediately dropped the blue ring, stared enraptured at the screen. He screamed in delight, bounced up and down, and even tried to clap his hands. It was pretty cute because he can't clap at all. Mostly, he just waved them around. I took a ton of pictures of him just sitting there staring at the television because I loved watching him enjoy something I know I loved as a little girl.

We also watched Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood the other day. Actually, I watched it while I held him and rocked him to calm him down for his nap. It was a very surreal experience because I hadn't seen Mr. Rogers in so long. Then he began to talk to the kids about how much their parents love them, and he sang a song that ended with him saying that one day "you will grow up and sing to your children too." It was very odd to think that I might have heard Mr. Rogers sing that very song as a child.

Isaiah has been boycotting naps recently. I don't understand why because he likes napping, as far as I can tell. He will get very tired right around 10:15 on the dot, and I will take him potty, rock him and hold him, and put him down for some nursing and a nap. He usually falls alseep beautifully in ten minutes max, but then after I am gone, he wakes up in 15 minutes flat and starts playing. I have tried nursing him again, laying down with him for looooong stretches of time, leaving him in his bed to wear himself out, keeping him awake until 11:00, but his morning naps just aren't consistent anymore. Unless, that is, I hold him on my lap for the entire nap and let him grasp my thumb. Then he sleeps like a baby. I've realized that I can fight this (and probably lose since I can't force him to sleep when he doesn't want to) or just work with it. So, I now have quiet times for myself in the mornings from 10:30 until lunch most days where I just read a book and drink tea and let my baby sleep in my arms where he feels safe and content.

Michael got a new digital camera for his birthday, which isn't until October 3rd, but we were both very excited for the camera, so it has already been opened and used quite a bit. Of course, every picture (and one short video) feature Isaiah. I actually took a quick inventory of all the 500 or so pictures we have taken in the past eight months, and I think I could count nine that
didn't have Isaiah in them. Actually, that's kind of cheating because Isaiah is in the background of two of those. What can I say, though? Isaiah is more beautiful that anything, how could we not take hundreds of pictures of him. I really hope we are as good about taking pictures of our subsequent children, because I know that there are often twice as many pictures of the first baby than the rest of the kids, at least.

Isaiah is just about to break out some brand new top teeth to go along with his bottom teeth. I can see the white lines underneath the gums, and any day I expect to be able to feel the sharp little razor edge of one poking through. Even though he isn't fussing or complaining, I feel bad because his gums do look a little swollen. He's such a trooper. Oh, and he is eight months old today.

Sniffles and Snuggles

My two boys are upstairs playing right now, and again I realize how incredibly lucky I am to have them both. I can hear Isaiah giggling through the vents as Daddy does something silly, and I remember the silly things my daddy did to make me laugh. He used to let me walk up his legs while he held onto my hands and then I would flip over onto my feet again. He also made big towers with me with special tubes you could roll marbles down, and we would watch the marbles descend together. He made snowmen with me in our backyard once even though I was too cold to finish after the head and I just watched him through the sliding glass doors. Michael remembers his dad playing "post office" with him and his siblings and laughing while trying not to get "stamped." How did we get so blessed? So many kids grow up without a dad in their lives, but our families are full of wonderful, invovled fathers. Thank you so much to our dads (and our moms of course) for giving us so much love, so that now we know how to love our baby.

We have all been sick this week with some sort of cold. My best guess is that our bodies were all shocked by the thirty degree drop in the temperature that occured early this week. No kidding - seventy-five to fourty-five in a matter of days. Isaiah was the first to contract the sniffles. I didn't really pay to much attention to it until it was bedtime, and then I realized that he couldn't lay down horizontally because the mucus would plug up his nose, so for several hours that night, I sat on the couch so that Isaiah could lean diagonally on me and sleep. I actually got some sleep that way too, but I wound up with a crick in my neck as a result. Then Michael got sick, but he had a nasty cough to go along with his cold, and finally I got a little sick, but not nearly as badly as my boys. I mostly had a sore throat, fatigue, and a headache. The one good thing about everyone being under the weather is that we all wanted the same things - warm liquids, early bedtimes, and lots of blankets. So for the past few days we have been doing a lot of snuggling and drinking tea (or milk for Isaiah.)

I am still unable to get a picture of Isaiah's teeth to put up. He is so good at covering them up with his tongue; you can almost forget they exist. That is, until he bites your finger with them. You really don't forget after that. He also makes new noises and faces because of his teeth. He sometimes puckers up like a fish or sucks on his tongue, and he says "da da" more often. Also, this morning he started making little trumpet sounds. He kept it up for a while because he enjoyed watching me laugh at him.

Well, I think I have found the food Isaiah dislikes the most. Garlic mashed potatoes with butter and herbs. We were having dinner the other night, and Isaiah didn't want to eat his carrots. He kept eyes our plates with steak and the aforementioned potatoes. Since I couldn't give him the steak, I put a teeny bite of potatoes on his spoon. Oh my goodness. He made a shocked and disgusted face, squeezed his eyes shut, and shook his head and hands and whole body in dismay. I think he thought I had fed him rat poisen. I felt awful, but I had no idea he would hate them that much. I mean, I liked them. After he recovered from the bite, though, he ate his carrots very happily. So, I guess it all worked out.

Lastly, Isaiah is getting better at scooting/crawling every day. He gets himself up onto his hands and knees now to go forward, but he usually flops down onto his belly and just scoots because it's faster for him at this point. We're planning on dressing him up as a caterpillar for Halloween this year because it will be so adorable to watch him inch around.

Chomp

Isaiah has teeth!! Two teeth, to be more precise. Two sweet, adorable little teeth on the bottom, sharpened and ready to bite. I would love to include a picture of Isaiah with his two cute little teeth, but apparently his teeth (unlike the rest him) are camera shy. In fact, it took a whole day and countless tries for us to be able to see them after we were able to feel them with our fingers. On Thursday, August 31st, Michael was holding Isaiah in the evening and decided to massage his gums because that sometimes helps with fussiness in teething babies. Then, he called me in because he could feel the sharp little bumps of a tooth poking through. We tried so many times to look into his little mouth, and to feel his gums with our fingers. Looking back, I realize that all the poking and prodding was a bit of an invasion on his privacy, but we were so excited we couldn't help it. Isaiah refused to let us see them that night, though. He didn't want to open his mouth unless it was for a pear-juice-popsicle, and even then, he covered his lower gum with his tongue. So, we were out of luck until the next day when we tricked him into letting us open his mouth for a split second or two.

He really was a very happy baby all throughout this teething experience. He didn't have sleeping problems or any excess crying or a fever or anything. I don't know why so many parents insisted on telling me stories of unimaginable horror. Some parents really relish frightening younger parents with awful stories of screaming babies and unmanagable toddlers. I know that many parents have had difficult experiences in the past, and I truly do sympathize, but to see the glee on some veteran parents' faces as they describe with gory detail what is sure to come your way is rather unsettling. "Just you wait," they say with maniacle grins, "until he talks back to you." Or, "just wait until the terrible twos," or "the nightmare of potty training." (I really depressed that storyteller when I informed her that I was already potty training Isaiah, and that it was going just fine.) According to these parents, there will always be some horror beyond horrors waiting for me when it comes to parenting, no matter how old Isaiah is. "Wait until preschool, when he'll learn swear words on the bus." "Just wait until middle school, when he will be embarassed by the very sight of you." "Wait until he's a teenager and gets caught up in sex, drugs, and rock n' roll." Unfortunately for these doom-bearing parents, I'm not afraid of the future years with my little boy. Maybe Isaiah will swear like a sailor when he's 6, cease talking for three years when he's 12, and pierce every available body part when he's 17. Then again, maybe he won't. Either way, I love my little Isaiah, so bring it on.


We had a wonderful Labor Day weekend with my family. It was, of course, too short of a visit, but still a lot of fun. It's always so beautiful to see my parents and Andy doting on Isaiah. It's also a good reminder to me of how precious he is, because they marvel at the things I have gotten used to, like rolling over and sitting up. I'm very glad Isaiah is so confortable with them, too. We didn't have any trouble with him being nervous or shy - he knew they were his family right away. I know Isaiah will go through separation and stranger anxiety sometime, but he's such a little people person, it's difficult to imagine right now.

Also this last week, we were able to see the Walzes during one of our trips to the Minnesota State Fair. For those of you who haven't partaken of the state fair, it's sort of our version of Mardi Gras. The big difference is that in Minnesota, most people are good, midwestern Lutherans, and they only wild side of Mardi Gras they do is the eating. So, basically, it's a gigantic eating festival with every imaginable thing fried and put on a stick and a few side attractions such as art and carnival rides. I was carrying Isaiah around in the sling when I decided to get a turky drumstick from a vendor, and I was only two bites into it when I realized there was no way Isaiah was going to let me have it all to myself. I let him gum the meat (this was actually pre-teeth,) and he really seemed to love it. We didn't have a camera, which was a bad move on our part, but we got a cute picture on a cell phone camera.

Isaiah enjoys gnawing on almost anything he can get to his mouth, but nothing more than his toes. "Oh toes!" Isaiah's big bright eyes exclaim each time he sees them, and into his mouth they go. It doesn't matter where he is or what he's doing; when he sees his toes, it's the only thing on his mind. Whenever he sits on the toilet, I have to hold him steady with one hand because otherwise he would topple head-first onto the tile floor in an attempt to eat his toes. When we're in the car and I hear grunts coming from the back seat, rest assured Isaiah has manuvered himself with Gumby-like capability to defy the 'five point harness system' of the state-of-the-art carseat and get his toes into his mouth. At least he has ten toys he will never misplace now.

A list of the things Isaiah likes (and doesn't like) to eat will show his unpredictable, descriminating tastes:

Milk - good
Juice - good
Banana - bad
Avacado - good
Turky leg - good
Peas - bad
Toes - good
Plums - good
Corn - bad
Soap from the bathtub that I can't get out of his reach quickly enough - good
Pears - good
Green beans - good
Carrots - good, then boring, then bad
Infant cereal - good
Infant cereal mixed with applesauce and a little cinnamon - very good
Pickles - good
Fudgsicle - bad
Nectarine - good

At least the good outnumbers the bad right now. I still haven't figured out how soap tastes better than the peas I keep trying to feed him, though. Oh well.

Photo Bonanza

For all of you who like the pictures of Isaiah better than anything I have to write on this blog (you know who you are) - this is your lucky day! There were so many pictures that we took in the last week or two that I wanted to include, and I couldn't choose because they are all so cute. Also, Michael put an entire series of photos of Isaiah in a cute green outfit on http://www.flickr.com/photos/59148789@N00/ I highly recommend going there because every single picture is adorable. Plus, there are several older pictures of Isaiah up as well.

This past week, Michael and I celebrated our 3rd anniversary! We were married August 16th, 2003. We had a wonderful dinner at Olive Garden while Grandma and Grandpa Walz and Uncle James took care of Isaiah. We had a great time eating slowly and talking to each other leisurly. We both agreed that it was so It's amazing to think we have been married three entire years. Then again, we've gotten quite a bit accomplished in the past three years. Michael switched from one school to another, graduated, and got a job as a graphic designer; I graduated from the U, we have moved three times and, of course, we had a baby. I'm guessing we have packed ten years of living into our three wonderful years of marriage. Talk about life in the fast lane. (I'm pooped.)

Speaking of pooped, Isaiah sits on the toilet himself now. Michael and I bought an insert-type thing that sits on top of the regular toilet seat to make it small enough for toddlers to sit on. It has handles, which Isaiah holds onto for balance, and it also has a spash guard, which the box advertised as a "deflector shield." We had a good laugh at that. It's so nice to be able to sit him down on the toilet instead of hold him above it. He's heavy and squirmy, and I just knew I was going to drop him in sooner or later if we didn't come up with a better solution. It's also perfect for cute pictures because the "deflector shield" covers up any indecency. What a handy deflector shield.

Isaiah not only sits up on the toilet, he sits up on the floor and in his high-chair. The only time he tips over is when he wants to grab something tantalizing that is off to one side. Then he pitches one way or another with no regard whatsoever for the hard ground or his delicate head. The doctor was quite impressed with his sitting control when we brought him in for his checkup. He had to get another round of shots, which was terrible, but he's all done with immunizations for six months. Everybody hates it when Isaiah gets poked, though. The nurse looks like she's going to cry, I'm about to cry, Isaiah is crying, and poor Michael is left trying to hold everyone together. I'm very thankful he didn't have to go to work that day, because Isaiah and I both need a lot of moral support. We have recovered now, thankfully, although Isaiah did have a low-grade fever the day after shots. He took a four-and-a-half hour nap that day snuggled on my lap. It was incredibly sweet, but I really had to go to the bathroom by the time he woke up.

According to the growth charts, Isaiah is in the 50th percentile for height and 55th for weight. That's absolutely amazing to me because he looks huge. Even the doctor said he didn't look like a 50% baby. Other people who have had children look at Isaiah and guess that he's 9 or 10 months old, and they always laugh when I say he's only six and say "what a healthy baby." It's a very nice comment for them to make, but I wouldn't mind even if they just said "what a fat little guy." I know it, and I like it.

Michael and I have started trying baby signs with Isaiah. The basic principle is that babies are able to use sign language to communicate long before they have the coordination to speak vocally, so parents simply introduce a few signs that babies can use until they are able to form words. Some researchers say that babies who learn to use signs actually develop larger vocabularies in the long run because the neurons associated with language development are connected earlier. Whether Isaiah will actually have a larger vocabulary or not, Michael and I are just excited by the prospect that we could know what he wants more easily. We've introduced the signs, 'mommy,' 'daddy,' 'milk,' 'sleep,' 'potty,' 'juice,' book,' 'bath,' 'more,' 'all done,' please,' and 'thank you' so far, Isaiah hasn't really noticed that we are signing as we talk to him, and we don't really expect anything to come of it for another three to six months, but it's still fun.

Actually, Isaiah has decided that his new way to communicate is through humming. Michael and I can't figure out exactly what the appeal of humming is, but Isaiah loves to do it. He will sort of bite down on his lower lip and smile as he hums a single note (sometimes a variation of two) for several minutes. I have a theory that he might be imitating me saying "mmm" as I feed him. I don't know why I do it, it's not like saying "mmm" or "yum" will make him more interested in the food, but I feel like I'm being proactive about it. He's actually eating more and more these days, and he's willing to try so many different foods. He has decided that he loves plums now, and if it takes me more than half a second between bites to get more onto the little spoon and into his mouth, I get impatient hums of protest. He's also keen on pears, avocado and green beens, and he's beginning to accept peas. This morning I decided to feed him some homemade applesauce along with his cereal, and he was pretty apathetic toward the mixture. So, I decided what the heck - I would spice it up a little, and I added just a pinch of cinnamon. He made the most delighted hums for the rest of the meal. My little gourmet.

I continually find it difficult to explain how much I love Isaiah, or how it feels to be a mother. I know that countless other mothers have felt the same way, and I probably don't need to go to such pains to try to describe it, because other parents reading this already know. Still, though, I have a great desire to put my feelings into words, to make them clear and to remember them vividly. I just wanted to end with this excerpt from an article Peter sent me on large families. The author (a mother for six) describes the way I feel so well.

(W)hy do we have children at all? So much is against the whole enterprise. Children cost too much money. They cost too much of ourselves. Children undo us. They show us how much and how little we're made of. They come, it often seems, only to break our hearts. And we let them. We invite it all. We admit perfect strangers through our doors and decide before we even know who they are to love them wildly, without condition, for as long as we live.

How do we account for this behavior? In the end, it is possible that our desire for children is a longing not to benefit ourselves, but to sacrifice ourselves; not to replicate ourselves, but to escape ourselves. For me, this longing hit at 28, while I was tunneling into the heart of the Congo on the back of an expedition truck. Suddenly, I was unutterably weary with my own small life and my endless requirements for fulfillment. I wanted the freedom to give my life away. I wanted an intimate, lifelong, indissoluble relationship with others, the kind of life that simultaneously sucks you dry and sustains you. I guessed that it would take nothing less than an infant to pry open my death-grip on self-determination. I did not know when we started our family a few years later that each birth would deliver into my arms an immeasurable weight of vulnerability and terror, but I guessed that parenting would bring a profligate, extravagant, others-centered life. As it has. But there has been a kind of death involved, make no mistake. "Unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed," Jesus taught. "But if it dies, it produces many seeds." My ambitious dying life is far from over.

First Crush

If anyone reading this now currently has a crush on someone, you will probably understand the feelings I'm describing. Otherwise, you might just have to think back to when you were completely infatuated with someone. I remember getting rather giddy and giggly when my crush was around, and I remember always hoping that he would notice me, or smile at me, or come over and talk to me. I remember not wanting him to leave and go home, and I definately remember acting silly. Now, much to my delight, I am Isaiah's very first crush. (Actually, I think I share the title of honor with Michael.) He grins whenever I enter the room, and actually screams with delight when I hold him. He wimpers when I set him down, and he full out cries if I leave him, even if only for a moment. If he wakes up in the morning, and I'm not there, he's heartbroken. But when he wakes up in the morning and sees my face or Michael's, he breaks out his most heart-melting, purely joyful, achingly beautiful smile for me to start my day with. And I absolutely love my baby's crush on me. I love it even if it means I have to distract him with 80 toys and PBS in order to get a quick bathroom break, and I love it even though I know it will go away. I know that someday, Isaiah will have a girlfriend (with his eyes, I don't think I'll be able to keep them away with a pointy stick), and one day a wife for him to be completely infatuated with. I know that my glamour will fade fairly soon in his eyes, and that of all the girls he notices, I probably won't even register on his radar as being a female. That's alright, though, because for now, Isaiah only has eyes for Michael and I, and I can always cherish the fact that I was his first crush.

This week included many more adventures in food. I started using the food grinder that some friends had given us, and I got to make baby-food plums, green beans, and pears with it. I was really excited to give Isaiah the plums, which was the first thing I tried with the food grinder. I had five plums in the fridge that I had let get extra ripe so they would be very sweet. Then I boiled them and peeled them and ground them up for my own sweet little plum. He hated them. He made the most hilarious sour faces you've ever seen. He would squeeze his little eyes shut and pucker his lips and shake his head a little. Then he would swallow, think for a minute, and open his mouth for the next bite. Eventually, though, I added some apple juice to sweeten them up a little, and he stopped making the sour faces. Then, a few days later I decided to go for the first green vegetable. Rod and Lesley (aka Grandma and Grandpa Walz) had given us some delicious garden green beans, which I just knew Isaiah would love. So I cleaned them extra thoroughly, boiled them until they were tender and perfect, ground them up, and measured them into tablespoon portions. Isaiah really hated them. He kept making gagging faces and spitting out the bites I gave him, and after the second spoonful, he refused to open his mouth anymore. I didn't know if I could try to season them with anything to make them better tasting for him. So, we'll just try again in a few days and see if he's changed his mind.

We also fed him some canned pears. Although I would love to feed him fresh fruit all the time, I thought he might like canned pear slices because he always wants to hold his own food, and he could gum these quite easily. So, I ground some up to feed him with a spoon, and I also gave him his own slice. We have a winner! Isaiah loves pears - hooray! He grunted at me if I took too long putting the next bite into his mouth, and he would open his mouth as wide as possible like a little baby bird. Maybe I should season green beans with pears. Hmmm.

Isaiah is working very, very hard on crawling. He can get up onto his hands a knees now and try to wiggle himself forward. Earlier today, he wanted to get to Uncle James' blue hair gel, so he huffed and puffed and worked and grunted to get up onto all fours, then he actually moved...backwards. Poor little guy. His face was pure heartbreak as he saw his object of desire get further and further away. But he was determined, and he kept working and trying until eventually I couldn't stand it and brought the bottle of hair gel over to him. Success! (Sort of) I really think he's going to get the hang of it soon, though. He's really working hard. He has prettymuch figured out how to sit by himself. Every once in a while, though, he starts slowly tipping over to one side, and he doesn't really try to stop himself. He just goes. I always catch him so that his head doesn't get bonked on the floor, which is probably why he doesn't mind falling.

He also seems to enjoy biting. More specifically, he enjoys biting me...very hard...when he's supposed to be sweetly nursing. He doesn't have any teeth yet, but it still hurts a lot. I don't know what I'm going to do when he get's his first tooth and gives me a real bite. Actually, that's not true. I know exactly what I'm going to do. I'm going to yell ouch, and then I'm going to give Isaiah to Michael for half an hour so I can curl up in a ball and cry. Not looking forward to that. I just don't know how to stop it from coming. Now, when he bites me, I say 'ouch' and then I don't let him nurse for a few minutes to try and show him that biting equals no food. It's not working, though. If anyone out there has any suggestions, I want to hear them. Help me please - I'm scared!

(Pictures will come soon, I can't get them to upload from the camera and my heroic husband is very busy keeping Isaiah happy.)

Splish Splash

I am so thankful for Michael. Michael is such a good daddy to Isaiah, and such a good husband to me. Without him, I just don't know what I would do, and I know that Isaiah wouldn't be getting all that he needs. Lately, Isaiah has been loving up on his daddy an extra amount. When Daddy comes home from work, Isaiah screams for joy. When Daddy leaves for work in the morning, Isaiah cries unless I distract him with a toy or a song. And when Daddy plays with Isaiah, he giggles and laughs so hard his little belly jiggles all over. It's pretty beautiful to watch. Isaiah especially likes the game where Michael woofs and growls like a big dog. He just cracks up everytime Michael makes the noises. We concluded, unfortunately, that if a vicious dog were barking and growling at Isaiah, he would only giggle in return.

Isaiah also loves the game where Michael picks him up by his legs and lets him dangle upside down. Sometimes Michael will even tickle Isaiah's exposed, upside-down belly with his nose, which sends Isaiah into delighted shrieking laughs. I just can't make him laugh in quite the same way. I try to do the same things Michael does, and all I get are pity giggles. It's not that Isaiah doesn't enjoy my company - I know he's incredibly attached to me, and I love our relationship. I just think he has established that Daddy is the funny one. It's so sweet to see his adoration for his father. When he sees Michael after some time apart, the look in his eyes in unmistakable. "My daddy is my hero." I know, Isaiah - he's my hero too.

Isaiah has recently become worried when someone leaves the room, or even his line of sight. If I put Isaiah down to change his diaper, he'll often wimper a little because he worries that I'm going away. And if I have to walk a few steps out of visibility range - oh no! It's always fine again the moment I return to his side, but it's interesting to me that he gets anxious about this. It's not like I leave him alone that often. I'm almost always in the same room as him, and he even sleeps snuggled next to Michael and I. However, along with this newfound anxiety has come an adorable, endearing trait, though. When he sees me again, he holds out his arms for me to pick him up. Oh - be still my heart; my baby wants me to hold him. Sometimes, when I pick him up again, he wraps his chubby baby arms around my neck and squeezes me in the sweetest hug, and he even slobbers on my cheek in an attempt to kiss me. There is nothing more in the world that I need.


We took Isaiah to a little wading pool down the street from us. We are so lucky to have the great facilities we have near us. There is a beautiful walking path around the lake, and great little playground, and this pool that only goes up to my shins at the deepest point for neighborhood kids to play in. We slathered up Isaiah in lots and lots of sunscreen, put a hat on to cover his head, and stuck him in a sun-shaded floaty device. No tan baby for us! Sadly, Isaiah hated the pool at first. He cried when the water touched his feet and didn't want to get in at all. After a few minutes of gently sprinkling water on him, though, he let us dip his feet, then his legs, then his belly in. After that, he really seemed to enjoy it. His entire goal was to lean down and drink the clorinated water, of course. But with our combined efforts, Michael and I managed to stop him most of the time (or at least part of the time.)


He is continuing to grow at a tremendous rate. He hasn't been able to fit into 3-6 month clothing for a week or so, but I kept in his dresser for a while anyway because I hate putting it into storage. Everytime I have to put away clothes that are too small, I start crying, and I feel really dumb. Finally, though, I sucked it up and started putting them in the 'too small' box. This time, though, I didn't cry at all because I was talking to Isaiah and telling him that we were saving these clothes for his baby brother to wear one day. It was actually a little exciting to think about that. Hopefully Michael is alright having a dozen kids.


We tried another food for Isaiah last night. It turns out Isaiah doesn't like avocado any more than he liked banana. I really thought he would because it's so mild. Nope, more disgusted and confused faces. Oh well, though, we'll just keep trying new foods until we find a good one.

Model Fools

For the thousandth time, someone told me that Isaiah is so cute he should be a baby model. I, of course, agreed wholeheartedly because I honestly do think he is the most adorable baby who has ever lived since the beginning of time. I know that some of my opinion is clouded by the motherly bias, but you can't deny his cuteness. So, I thought about it for a little while, and decided that baby modeling might be a fun way to start saving up for Isaiah's college. Lucky for me, there are several major corporations headquartered in Minneapolis that employ baby models, including Target, Huggies, Lifetouch, and Marshall Fields. Along with those are several modeling agencies. Since I didn't know where to start, I called Target headquarters and got the names of the modeling agencies they use from their advertising department. Then, when I was looking those up in the phone book, I also found one called "Kids.com" I thought this might be worth checking out as well, so I jotted down their number.

When I called Kids.com, they immediately put me through a phone interview asking about Isaiah's hair and eye color, if he has any marks or blemishes on his face, and if he is shy or outgoing. Then, since everything sounded good, they asked both Michael and I to bring Isaiah in for an appointment on Saturday. We were pretty excited because we thought this could be a fun opportunity for Isaiah. When we got to the office that Saturday morning, we were seated in the waiting room. Michael asked me if we would have to pay anything for the agency's service, and I told him that to my knowledge, any company that charged an upfront fee wasn't very legitimate because good agencies only take commission.

We got into the office - Tony Guy's office to be precise - and he declared Isaiah an absolute doll. He said that he was almost positive Isaiah could get jobs because he's so cute and in a really good age bracket. Then he explained that child models will make $85 to $100 an hour for print ads, and thousands of dollars for television commercials or appearances on soap operas. (Apparently there is quite a demand for babies on soap operas.) Then he said that Kids.com would be willing to have his picture taken, send that out to modeling agencies in the Twin Cities, put it on their website, and make all the callbacks for us that are needed. That deal sounded pretty good to us until he mentioned that it would cost $600, plus there would be a commission fee of 15% to Kids.com and 15% to the modeling agency. There was a stunned silence in the room, but only for a moment, because Tony Guy expertly filled the void with more talk, and asked us about where we were from and how we met and if we wanted more kids. He kept talking as he handed me the contract to read, making sure Michael and I didn't have a moment to talk to each other. Michael, at one point, asked how we could do it ourselves. (After all, we could just have his picture taken ourselves and send it to places, and we already have a website or two for him.) Then Tony Guy talked some more about how that wouldn't really work very well and asked us lots more friendly questions. I told Tony Guy that this wasn't really a good time for us to shell out $600, and so he drafted up a payment plan that split it up over three months. He kept talking about how Isaiah would be covered by this for five years including pictures (which isn't true at all because we would still have to pay the $20 sitting fee.)

Throughout all this, Michael wasn't saying anything and nodding politely, probably too shocked to do anything else. I was also nodding politely, not having any time to think between Tony Guy's friendly banter. I finally asked Michael what he was thinking, because I honestly couldn't tell, and I didn't know what to do. Unfortunately, often when I ask Michael what he's thinking it's because I want him to lean a certain way. This time, he thought I was asking because I wanted to sign the contract. So, he said "I guess we could make it work." Then I figured that he wanted to do it, so I said that I guessed we could make it work too. Then Tony Guy smiled and big smile, and we signed the contract.

As soon as we walked out the door, we looked at each other and realized that we had been smooth-talked into something bad, but luckily there was a clause in the contract that we could cancel within three days with written notice. So we got home, typed up the written notification, sent it off, and cancelled it on our credit card.

We feel pretty silly that we got duped into something so obviously shady. There was nothing about the office or the headshot book or the contract or Tony Guy that made us feel good, and we're still a little confused as to how we signed the dotted line at all. But we did, so silly us. At least we got it all straightened out.

Rollin', rollin', rollin'

This week started off with a fun wedding in Wisconsin we drove to. Once again, Isaiah was an angel in the car, and it was a wonderful chance to spend some time talking with Michael while Isaiah looked out the window in back and babbled to himself. The latest sound he has enjoyed making is "Who...Who..." We had a great time at the wedding, and the bride (my former roommate) said Isaiah was the most perfect baby she had ever seen. Those comments make me so happy you would think people were calling me perfect and beautiful.

Isaiah also figured out how to jump in his Johnny Jump-Up. Hooray! We got a little jumping recorded on camera before he noticed Daddy holding the camcorder and stopped jumping to stare at him. I had to distract Isaiah again with a bright red box held up high so that he would jump for it. I kind of felt as though I was holding up a piece of cheese for my little dog, Sparky.

Isaiah really loves all kinds of physical play, not just jumping up and down. The other day, Michael was swinging him upside down over his head while I got ready in the bathroom, and Isaiah was laughing his little head off. Suddenly, the giggling stopped and moments later, Michael opened the bathroom door. I looked at him in alarm only to see one of the biggest spit-ups ever. Michael had it in his hair, in his eye, down his neck, and on his shirt. Of course, being the loving wife I am, I laughed really hard and got the camera. Luckily, my husband has a good sense of humor as well, and after good a shower and a clean shirt, he was as good as new.

Isaiah has also been showing more and more interest in all of his toys. It's so much fun to watch him play with all the cute little things he owns. It's also really interesting to see how toys have changed since I was a kid. For instance, when I was a little girl, I distinctly remember having a toy plastic rotary phone that went briiing when you dialed a number. Now Isaiah has a toy plastic cell phone that rings, has a busy signal, makes a ten-digit dialing noise, beeps, says hello, flashes a green light, and sings four different songs. No, I'm not kidding. Yet, despite all the advances in baby toys, babies seem to have remained the same. This morning, I was playing with Isaiah on the carpet, and I had all of his fancy, flashing, singing, beeping, wiggling, high-tech toys around to entice him. He went for the crumpled ball of paper and played happily with it for half an hour. If only we could all keep our lives that simple.

We tried, Wednesday night, to feed Isaiah some mashed up banana in his cereal. I had assumed that just plain rice cereal was probably getting a little boring and Isaiah would appreciate the extra flavor. I couldn't have been more wrong. The grossed-out faces Isaiah put on were hilarious. At first, he looked shocked, and he didn't even move his mouth or tongue for a few moments because he wasn't sure what to do. Then, he looked absolutely disgusted as he began to "chew" the mush, and finally, when he had mostly swallowed it, he looked confused as to why we would put such a thing into his mouth. But after each bite filled with shock, disgust and confusion, he saw the bowl filled with the banana-cereal and opened his mouth wide like a baby bird begging for more. Then we went through the roller coaster of emotions again. He never cried or made a truly sad face, though. I just think he was baffled as to what was in his mouth, and I'm pretty sure he's not the world's biggest banana fan. I've heard that babies' tastes can change frequently, though, so I might try banana again in a week or so to see what he thinks at that time.

Isaiah can now roll over from his back to his stomach to his back to his stomach to his back again. He figured out the full roll one evening and just looked at us so nonchalantly, as if he had been rolling around from day one. I actually watched him roll half-way across the room to get to a toy, and I couldn't believe my eyes. I'm so proud of my strong, smart little boy for figuring out how to roll around. Now, though, all I can see are dangers in our house. Isaiah could roll off the bed. Isaiah could bonk his head on the coffee table legs. Isaiah could roll over to an outlet and stick his fingers in it. I'm considering investing in miles of bubble wrap and making our place 100% padded.

Gone are the days when I could set Isaiah down with a toy, go to the bathroom, and come back to see him playing with the toy in the same spot. It's not just a possibility that he will roll and wiggle around, it's a guarantee. Rolling is his new favorite thing to do, and he does it at every possible opportunity. Now every morning when Isaiah wakes up, instead of staring up at the curtains and cooing, he kicks Daddy in the back until he has enough room to roll onto his stomach, and then he wiggles until I get up. I'm not even a little surprised, though. He has been exercising his legs for months, and it's pretty obvious that he goal has been to move as much as he can. I'll just have to get in better shape so I can keep up.

Going out...of my mind

Last week Michael and I got down to business getting Isaiah on a regular schedule. We've never really felt the need for putting him on a nap schedule before, and I've always let it be a rather organic agenda. As long as he continued to get enough sleep throughout the day and night, I was content to let him take his two or three naps whenever he needed them, and get to bed whenever he was tired. Lately, though, I realized that I would need to be a little more deliberate about the whole thing, because he was beginning to get to bed at erratic times, and he wasn't sleeping for long enough stretches during the night. So, I figured I would try to have him wake up around eight or eight-thirty (which he always does anyway,) take his morning nap around ten-thirty, his afternoon nap around three-thirty, and have him in bed by eight. What a nice plan on paper. What actually happened most days was a half-hour nap at ten, an hour nap at noon, another half hour nap at three, and a biiig long nap around five, which left him too refreshed to go to bed at eight.

I finally am starting to get it down, though, and apparently Isaiah still needs three smaller naps during the day instead of two long ones. Even though the nap times vary a bit from day to day, we are getting him to bed and waking him up at consistent times, which is the most important part to me.

We also tried going out on our first date without Isaiah this last week. Michael and I both wanted to see Pirates of the Caribbean, so I began pumping milk four or five days ahead of time and storing it for our big night out. Uncle Peter agreed to watch Isaiah, and we decided to go as early as we could so we could be back for his bedtime, if possible. We decided to go to the AMC inside the Mall of America because it was a short drive should we need to run back home for any emergency. Unfortunately, Uncle Peter couldn't get off work as soon as we had hoped, so we would only be able to make the 6:45 show. Then, when we got to the theater, we realized they had posted the time wrong in the paper and it was actually a 7:15 show. I had already called Peter in the car on the way to the theater, but I figured I should call him again to let him know of the later showing and make sure once more that Isaiah was fine. He was just fine, of course, but I was still very nervous.

The movie was great, but halfway through, I called Peter again to check in. Isaiah was still just fine, so I went back into the theater and watched the rest of the movie with enjoyment. When it was done, I made Michael call because I figured Peter probably thought I was already insane. Unfortunately, this time Isaiah was crying and had been unhappy for a half-hour or so. Although it had been smart to go to a theater that was a short drive from home, it had been less smart to park in a ramp that could only be accessed through a department store, which had closed for the night. So what do I do as a rational, sane human being? I begin sprinting through the Mall of America in my heels looking for an exit. I'm sure everyone I passed thought I had shoplifted and was trying to outrun security, such was the look of horror and guilt on my face. As I was running, knowing how strange I looked, a thought occurred to me: I am no longer an independent woman; I am attached and bound to Isaiah and completely under his control. We finally got to our car (it took so, so long to get there) and we raced home. The entire time, Michael reassured me that this would not permanently scar Isaiah, that he was only crying because he was tired, that Isaiah wasn't hurt, that Peter was doing a fine job. All I could think of, though, was that I was a terrible mother and an idiot for choosing such a long movie for our first night out.

Finally, we arrived at home. I raced out of the car in my bare feet (they were quite sore from running around the mall in heels,) and sprinted through our back door expecting to hear those heart-wrenching little sobs. Instead it was completely silent. I found Peter in the living room watching the news with Isaiah fast asleep on his lap. Peter smiled and said that Isaiah finally just tired himself out and fell asleep. I felt so relieved that he was no longer crying, yet so awful that Isaiah had to fall asleep uncomforted. While Michael and Peter chatted in the living room, I walked back to our bedroom, sat down on our bed, and burst into tears. I cried for a solid five minutes before Michael brought sweet little sleeping Isaiah in so I could snuggle with him in bed. He slept in my arms, and I smelled his soft head, and I knew that we were both fine.

Serious Business

This past week, Isaiah has absolutely exploded developmentally in so many ways. After we had both recovered from our road trip, Isaiah began playing with everything around him, which was so adorable. He is getting so good at reaching out and grabbing objects, and he's becoming acutely aware of all his surroundings. He really began discovering and paying attention new things in South Dakota where he discovered his feet and his right ear. (It wasn't until we were back that he realized he also had a left ear.) Now that he is paying more attention and has more coordination, Michael and I really have to watch out for dangers within his grasp.

This past Sunday, we were eating burritos after church at Chipotle when Isaiah began to get a little bored. I really don't blame him because he didn't have a burrito to munch on or even just play with. I got an extra piece of aluminum foil from the server which distracted him for quite a while. However, he knew that what he really wanted was Daddy's food. So, out shot a little arm with a little grabby hand attached and in a millisecond, he had a grasp on Michael's food basket and was about to toss the burrito onto the floor in a swift, jerky movement. Luckily, Michael had his guard up because he really loves Chipotle burritos, so he was able to catch it before it had even gone off the table. I have a feeling that it was just a warning of the hazards to come, though. It was a good reminder to me that I need to baby-proof our home some more. I have more outlet covers to stick in and corners to soften, and I should really get to it before he starts crawling.

I don't think crawling is really that far off because Isaiah is becoming stronger everyday. He pushes up higher when he's on his tummy, and he can roll to his back whenever he wants to. He even rolled from his back to his front once. Of course, both Michael and I were looking away at the time. He's actually trying to crawl with all his might, but he just hasn't mastered the concept of picking his head up off the ground when he pushes with his legs. As a consequence, he drags his poor little face on the carpet, and I worry that he'll get a rug burn on his cute little nose. He continues to work on it, though, and he has already mastered pivoting. He pushes with his legs and pivots around his stationary head, and sometimes he moves six inches in the direction he ends up pointing. It's alright with me that he's not too mobile yet - I have a lot of baby-proofing to do.

He also began showing mighty interest in food a few weeks ago, making chewing movements and watching forks go from the plate to people's mouths. It's pretty hilarious to watch. At one point, I was eating yogurt for breakfast and he was so fascinated that I let him suck on my spoon after each bite of yogurt. Even though there was no actual food left, he took his job very seriously. The look on his face told me that he knew he was becoming an adult because he ate with a spoon, and that I better start taking him seriously too.

In fact, he has become so interested in solid food that Michael and I decided to let him try some baby cereal. He has shown so many signs of readiness and interest that even though I wanted to wait until six months, we knew it would give him a lot of joy to try. So, we broke out the high chair and mixed up the cereal. (I Tbsp cereal to 5 Tbsp breast milk) We figured out that we pretty much could have just fed him milk with a spoon because it was so liquidy anyway, but Isaiah loved it. He ate, once again, very seriously, and he got possibly one third of it into his mouth. Of course, we had to give him a bath after that, and then we decided he was so cute that he kept him naked and put a white sheet down on the bed for an impromptu photo session. The conclusion? He's the cutest baby in the world.

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.