12 Month Well Baby.

We took LP to the doctor today for his 12 month check-up. They have him as 22.4# (I get 24.4#) and 32" (I get 30.25"). We went in with four (3 separate) questions.

1) LP still spits up, a great deal. We want to know why, and how to help him.

1a) Again, regarding spit up and LP's history, we were wondering about Celiac Disease and perhaps food allergies.

2) There are several flat spots on LP's head. Are they concerning, or are they nothing to worry about?

3) LP has taken to pulling out his hair. He pulls on it at bedtime, but recently he's been pulling hair out in handfuls. Again, concerning?

Now. Question two was "nothing to worry about." Question three was "nothing to worry about, but if he keeps it up, cut his hair short so he can't pull on it."

Alright, that answers the questions, but make no mistake, I'll put LP in a hat 24/7 and wait him out before I cut his hair so short after it took him a year to grow it at all.

But... the important question. His spitting up. Once again, I got a lecture. Why? Because the doctor "doesn't treat for everything." Because once again, I'm apparently overreacting, and expecting him to medicate my son for every little thing. It's now gone from "wait until he's four months" to six, to ten, to twelve, to now eighteen months. Why yes. At this rate, let's wait until he's fifteen years old before we do something about this. The doctor's theory is that he's overeating, and spitting up the excess, so we should feed him less milk, and less overall. But that doesn't make any sense. How is it I am somehow more qualified to know how hungry LP is than LP himself? I'm planning now to take him to my doctor, or perhaps to a naturopath. I'm TIRED of hearing that I'm just overreacting, that I don't have a valid concern, that I'm running to the pediatrician for everything (when it's actually exactly the opposite!)... just because LP is my first child. I'm going to get to the bottom of this, and I'm not going to stop until I find out what's ACTUALLY wrong. Even if it is nothing, I want to make sure that it's not something serious that we're just letting it go, letting it go, letting it go... and then BAM, something big. Like, oh, say, when he was about two months old. We watched, we watched, we waited and waited... then BAM - baby spent a week in the hospital trying to find out what was happening. I won't do it again. I won't.

All things at once.

Never all things in time here. It's all at once or not at all.

I made eight soakers for LP. This is remarkable, as I made them from $12 worth of fleece. If I'd bought them, they would have likely cost me between $10 and $15 each. So I saved a LOT of money. Yay!

I'm now working on turn-and-top stitching a series of liners, as LP is still in diaper creams and we need those to keep the cream off the diaper itself. This will net me something like 12+ liners from $4 worth of flannel. Nice. Needless to say, I'm appreciating my new sewing machine. Love It.

We also got a preschool curriculum. It's a bit early, but since Waldorf curricula are all routine and song at this age, it seemed a good time to do it.

Tomorrow I go for day surgery. Oooh, fun. Really. Honest. Yuck. Skeeve is taking the day off to help me out with the Little Prince while I go. Should be an interesting day.

Add to that planning a trip to Chicago, and that about sums up what we're doing these days. It's insanity.

The "hard" time

It seems that I'm entering into the hard time of parenting. Or hard-er, or whatever. LP has his own ideas about things - what he'd like to do, what he'd like to eat, what toy he wants to play with (all of them!). The problem... Well, he doesn't have much of a way to communicate that with me. So most of our days are spent with the both of us... not 'yelling' exactly, as it's not anger. But 'yelling' as in he shouts at me and cries because he wants something. I holler back, trying various things hoping he'll like one of them. Sometimes it works. Sometimes... Not so much. Today, we spent most of the last two hours going back and forth - he's not hungry. His diaper is clean, HE is clean. He's not thirsty, he doesn't want to play with his toys, he doesn't want to play with MY toys. He wants to crawl into the fridge, but that's not an acceptable option, so the crying starts, and we start over again. He wants to be held, but he doesn't want to be held, but he doesn't want to be on the floor, and he doesn't want to be in the air either. He is now happy. We are having lunch at his speed, watching Star Wars, and he is chattering at the Rebellion pilots on their way to destroy the Death Star. We'll see how long it lasts before the game starts over again.

A day late...

It's a day late for the purpose, but we've been so busy with Gramma and Grampa, and Uncle F and Uncle J in town to celebrate... Yesterday was the Little Prince's first birthday!

And so, I wrote.

My darling boy,

There are so many things I want to say to you, but you're far too young to understand some of them, and in all honesty, far too asleep for the rest. ^_^

It was one year ago today that my entire life changed. I stopped being the protector of a little secret child, and became the guardian of a little human being, flesh and blood and live and whole, able to be held in just one arm. One year ago yesterday, you were only mine. I was the only one who could feel when you were awake or asleep, had the hiccups, or were excited. I could feel you roll and twist, and poke and prod. Today... It's a joy I share with the people around you. From the moment you wake up and try to "wake" me with kisses, through the day when you walk, talk, climb, and still poke and prod, and into the night again, where you sleep beside me, the sweetest little face I think I've ever seen.

It is, genuinely, an honour to be a part of you, to have you be a part of me. I can barely remember life before you came, and don't really mind it one bit. You are growing up so quickly, every day brings something new. Just these last few days you learned to clap and to wave, and you're leaning more toward running every time I look at you... And you climb like it's your job. You also laugh, smile, play, and explore, it's like nothing I've ever seen before. Everything is something new and interesting for you, and I'm thrilled to be able to share this all with you.

I'm glad to be the one you give kisses to. I'm glad I'm NOT the one you poke (Daddy has that honour - whenever his shirt rides up just a little... *POKE!!*). I'm glad I'm here to love on you, I'm glad that in your sleep, you can fling out an arm and be comforted by the fact that I'm right beside you. I'm so proud of the little person you're becoming, how you laugh to make the people around you laugh, and when you're excited or irritated you let us know by shouting and standing on your toes. I'm so glad I get to be here to know how much you love to climb, how much you love remote controls, and how much you love cheese. I'm glad I get to know that you don't like holding still, diaper changes, or rice krispies. We've been through a lot together, you and me, sweet boy, and I wouldn't trade any of it for the world.

I'm looking forward to the next year, and all the ones after that, and hope we can get off to a smoother start than this one did... But be equally full of fun, games, joy and laughter. I love you, my little sugar bee, and I can't wait to see what songs we make up together, what games we'll play, how smart you'll be, and what a handsome, darling, sweet, *good* person like you will become. I'm so very proud of you, and I'm so excited to see what tomorrow brings, and I count myself beyond lucky to be a part of your life.

All my love and kisses,

Mommy.

LP, one year ago (wow, wicked stupid expression on me! XD):
And, LP precisely one year after his birth, at 2:08 pm 08/08/09:

World Breastfeeding Week

"There is a simple truth here, that is so awesome and complete in its simplicity, that it’s in danger of being overlooked: breastfeeding an infant is not a lifestyle choice. It is not a cultural convention. It is not a personal statement. It is a biological imperative. It is our essential nature. It is an essential element of our species, and the continuation of it. It is a biological norm.

We do not choose to breastfeed. We can choose not to. Likewise, we do not choose to breastfeed in public. We can choose not to. Breastfeeding is not a cultural construct. Not breastfeeding, is. Nursing an infant when the infant needs it, is a biological norm. Deciding that this needs to be done in a certain place, at a certain time, or in a certain way, is a cultural value."
--Morgan Gallagher
http://one-of-those-women.blogspot.com/2007/11/human-rights-versus-hegemony.html

Happy World Breastfeeding Week!

Since last go around...

The Little Prince has had his second and third trips to the ER, though simply for dressing changes. Thursday, Skeeve took off of work to go with us. They clipped off the bandages, looked at his hands, and... Nothing. He has blisters on his first three fingers, but the rest of his hand is completely healed. So we got a new dressing, and were told to come back in a day and a half. That's today. They clipped off the bandages, looked at his hand and... decided it's healed "enough." They gave him some codeine, then lanced and clipped the blisters, rebandaged him up and sent us home - again to come back in a day and a half. So now we return to the ER on Monday night, hopefully leaving with no bandages. We hope. We'll see. In the meantime, The Little Prince has been having a difficult time. It's not that he can't or won't use his hand. It's that he can't grip with it. He can crawl, which he's fine with. But he's starting to walk from fixture to fixture (bookshelf to couch, table to Mommy, etc...), and without the grip of his left hand, his balance is abominable. Just today he has fallen over or tripped three times, and yesterday was a day of whacking, banging, falling and clunking. I feel so badly for him, but he doesn't seem to mind it... much.

At least by this time next week, his hand will be all better... and he will be One Year Old.