Let It Be. Peas

When I had 'Rado, I promptly denounced taking care of myself.  Prenatal vitamins would cover any nutritional deficiencies in my diet so that my b-milk would be well fortified, as long as he got the sleep he needed I could use Connor's snooze time to clean and do projects (the 4-month curtains can attest to how bad an idea that was), and my job provided a daily hiatus from housework - no matter that going to the office was more stressful than doing dishes and laundry.  But that weak structure could only hold up for so long before it came crashing down like it did last night.  You probably saw it coming while I tried to avoid it like trying to sidestep a hurricane.


Now that it's out of my system, I think I'm ready to move up and move on.  I've been woe-is-me-ing for the past week, being a pill to Z, being confused, and just acting like a general Debbie Downer.  Emotions don't have switches (I felt a little edgy at work today, completely unprovoked), but I'm ready to go Zen on this shit and get it together, baby.  As Z reminds me each day, I need to:

On to more exciting news, we finished our first round of solid, non-rice cereal food tonight and can now say that Connor lurves peas.  Mouth wide open, humming for more, shoving the spoon into his mouth lurves peas.  I've never been so excited about peas before.  Hopefully later this week I can share how ecstatic I am about carrots and bananas.  

It's amazing how adding a spoon into the equation changes the whole eating dynamic.  It's just so much more fun and interesting now.  Feeding used to be such a nag - getting up at all hours every couple of hours to latch that baby on.  Then we moved to bottle only feeding, which has been a nag in its own right since pumping is of the utmost importance to keep the food source flowing.  Now though, we've moving over to formula and I can sit face-to-face to my little man and watch his mouth work over whatever mush might make it into his mouth and not onto his chin or shirt.  I think I'll remember how 'Rad's feeding has evolved as much as I'll remember how much he has and is growing.


And he is growing on all fronts.  His baby coos have evolved into squeals like that of a baby pterodactyl.  His uncontrolled hand movements can help his grasp his favorite ball or rip my bangs out by the roots.  He'll shoot us a smile when it seems like we're too far away for him to see.  And thanks to our trip to Chicago, we've discovered how strong his little bullfrog legs really are.

And this one's just for fun: