Pizza Crust Obsession

Holt used to nap through dinner time.  It was actually quite pleasant.  However, lately he's been getting up right before dinner as if on purpose, as not to miss out.  For a couple nights, we tried to set him in the living room, surrounded by all his toys, right by the dinner table.  Nuh uh.  Not okay.  He knew he wanted to be a part of whatever action was going on just above him and he made his request well known.

So, for the last couple nights, it has turned into Adam or myself holding him at the table, while the other parent eats and then we switch.  We don't have the high chair down from the attic yet.  As I previously posted here, the attic is where everything goes to die.  And honestly, after the saucer, I'm a bit afraid of what the high chair looks like.  Therefore, I've been postponing 'The Great Treasure Hunt of Summer 2011' for another day.

"He's nearly 8 months old, how have you been feeding him to date without a child retention device?" you might ask.  Well, sometimes I use the Bumbo and sometimes I just sit on the floor with him and wrangle him back after every bite, swatting his hands away from his mouth, while holding a spoon and an open container of baby food.  Every now and then I do have to use my head as a third arm.  Yeah, I should probably dig out the high chair...

As you can imagine, Holt at the table reaches for everything in front of him.  You must create a semicircular baby safe zone so he doesn't splat his hand in the mashed potatoes, grab hold of a steak knife, or tip over a drink.  This is actually more difficult than it sounds.  You see, we have three other children at the dinner table that are not of the age to serve and pass food on their own.  This means that EVERYTHING is crammed and cluttered around Adam and me, since we sit side by side, so that we can dish out portions and cut up bites, etc.  Sometimes I literally feel claustrophobic -- seriously.  Add a grabby baby and a safe zone, it's just a mess!

Tonight we had pizza.  It didn't take us long to remember that all our other boys loved to gnaw on a pizza crust when they were babies.  Insert crust to fist and voila!  Grabby baby and safe zone problem solved--just don't tell the pediatrician.  It's not peanut butter or eggs so we should be safe, right?!  Everyone can serve himself a slice of pizza and Mom and Dad are feeling a little freedom over supper.

We could never have anticipated Crack Baby.

"Oooh, Mommy, I think I like pizza crust!"

"Scratch that.  Mommy, I LOVE pizza crust!"

(Crust becoming a gooey choking hazard mess...time for a new one.)
"Hey!  Nobody lays a finger on my pizza crust!  Give it back NOW!"

(Incoming new pizza crust)
"Okay, so maybe I overreacted slightly.  Just please hurry up."

"Oh, pizza crust, I thought I'd never see you again."

"Ah, pizza crust, where have you been all my life?!"

You know the little head shake that newborns do while rooting excitedly for a bottle?  He totally did that every time we gave him a new pizza crust.  And he busted into a full fit every time we peeled one out of his tightly clasped fist.  He must have gummed on about five crusts tonight.  Until now, no one else eats the crust besides me.  Guess now I have some competition.

Father's Day Lessons

To go with the Mother's Day Lessons, here's Huey's take on his dad.  Unfortunately, Father's Day is celebrated after school is out so there was not as much sent home as with my Mother's Day artwork.

Personally, I think this sheet was a bit lame.  Number 10 says 'I love my Dad because he reads me _____.'  What else are kids supposed to say other than books?  The Bill of Rights?

And number 6 says 'I love to hear my Dad sing ____.'  What else are they to say other than songs?  (Though Houston obviously hasn't heard Adam carry a tune, otherwise the answer would have been "silently")

My personal favorite is number 3 'I know my Dad is smart because he ______' to which Houston filled in "is a pool worker!"

In good fun and to go with my Mother's Day lessons, I asked Houston how much he thought Daddy weighed.  "Ummm, he couldn't weigh more than 150lb!"  And once again, he was dead on with age, 31.

Happy Father's Day 2011

And in case you can't read it...
"My Dad can choke out your Dad"

Hawk-ism: Bless You

Holt was in Adam's lap and Hawkins was sitting next to them.  Holt happened to sneeze in the direction of Hawk.

Hawk:  <disgustingly>  Holt!  Do not 'bless you' on me!

Holt Gets Around

It's been a while since we've had a tummy crawler in the house.  Holt adds a whole new dynamic now that he can cross the house in two minutes flat.  The little booger is fast and into everything!

Huey-ism: Sleepyhead

Houston has been allergic to sleeping past 6am for the last month and a half.  Which in turn, since he shares a room with Hayes, Hayes is also up extremely early every morning.  They have been trained not to bother Adam and I but to play quietly and happily in their room into it is an acceptable time for the house to get up.  I am very seriously considering putting an alarm in his room that will tell him when it is okay for him to get out of bed.

This morning, I was actually up before them.  Kelly, the babysitter, has been taking them swimming a lot at her parents house.  This has helped with them getting a little more rest.  I was sitting on the couch when I heard their door open.

Houston:  <in disbelief as if he'd slept the whole day> Seven nineteen!  Mommy, we slept in!

Oh child, I'm pretty sure in about six more years, you will think 7:19 am is way too early!

Dr. Boop

Holt has a misshapen head from a crick in the neck, called torticollis, when he was a newborn.  At his last check-up, I requested to see a neurosurgeon about it.  I had probably spent too many hours on the internet researching this condition.  There are helmets for babies to help correct the shape of the head.  In my study, I found that the earlier you treat it, the better they respond.

I could not wait to see the neurologist!  I had been waiting a month already.

Holt has become an extremely active child.  When we arrived, he quickly decided that he did not want to be strapped in his stroller.  He is all about mobility.  There was no way I was letting him scoot around the waiting room carpet.  I decided a reasonable compromise would be the recently vacated couch.

After scooting up and down the couch a couple dozen times, I was tired of corralling him from the edge and tried to settle him down with a toy.  Fortunately, I had packed a sack full.  However, the only one he wanted to play with was the telephone (pictured left).  There is no volume control and every button plays a nice, lengthy, loud song.  I'm sure the waiting room full of patients appreciated Holt's musical medley.

When we got called back to a room, I sat Holt on the exam table, which was covered in butcher paper.  Within seconds, Holt was shaking the paper, which turned into tearing the paper, and attempting to eat the paper.  He was having a blast!

Dr. Boop came in briefly to look at his head and requested that he get an x-ray.  We were to wait in the room for the nurse to accompany us over to their imaging center.  Holt had become bored with the butcher paper and his sack full of toys.  Though he was highly interested in the magazine I had borrowed as reading material from the waiting room.  He grabbed for the magazine just as the nurse walked in.  I'm pretty sure there was a flurry of paper between the magazine being snatched away and the butcher paper being tossed aside.  "Nothing!" I replied as I planted all the floating paper down on the table with a quick snack.  She glanced at Holt and laughed.

It was on to the x-ray.  Now, my most recent x-ray experience was Hawk in the pigg-o-stat.  So I was understandably a little afraid of what was next.  The nurse swaddled him in a sheet to get a good image of his head.  But by the way he was screaming, I guess he thought he was in the pigg-o-stat.

When that was over, we were transported back to an exam room which had been conveniently stripped of all accessible periodicals.  That is, unless you were seven feet tall.  Coincidence?  I think not.

Dr. Boop returned shortly after and said that everything looked normal.  Holt is a mild case and does not need a helmet.  Yay! The doctor explained that they ran a study a few years back with mild cases.  Half were treated with a helmet and half without.  By age four, you could not tell who had treatment and who had not.

After that long appointment with a very busy baby, I was ready for a nap!  And so thankful that Holt's head will correct itself.