Melting Mommy's Heart

If I don't sit down to write this I'm scared I'll forget and never remember...

This one isn't about funny stories or trivial lessons learned in new mommy land...it's simply to remind me one day how great it felt when I sat at the dinner table and felt two little chubby hands on my knees, those of my baby-turned-toddler who had crawled underneath the table and found my knees as support to stand. It's to remind me how sweet it was (so sweet it brought me to tears on many occasion) when I would talk to Evan on our many outings together while he was still rear-facing in the car seat and, since he couldn't see me, I would reach back to touch his head and he would grab my hand and hold it for minutes at a time.

These two things happened just today and it struck me how, with all of my enthusiasm in Evan reaching all the "big" milestones, it would be so easy for me to forget the small things. Interesting that the "small" things are really so big!

Boudreaux's Butt Paste - Breakfast of Champions!

It was a usual Wednesday morning. I got up at 6:30 to get myself ready for my last day of work for the week (always harder than Monday!). Evan woke up on time and I brought him downstairs for his morning dose of Baby Einstein while I made his breakfast. All of a sudden I hear Scott say, "Oh, NO!" A little panic shot through me...

"What happened?" Nothing...again and with a little more volume and attitude I ask, "WHAT HAPPENED?"

Scott then informs me that Evan has potentially ingested butt paste! He was actually very calm but by the time I got to Evan and saw the diaper cream all over his bib and hands I was convinced he had swallowed half the tube! I was in full-blown panic mode. We read the back of the tube which stated we should call poison control if ingested. GREAT! My baby just ate something poisonous!

I jump online to find a number and quickly dial only to be put on hold for what seemed like an eternity (probably 2 minutes, but come on people, you're POISON CONTROL, answer the phone!). Once I finally got someone his first response was, "this happens all the time". Part of me was relieved but part of me wanted him to be just as upset as I was (at this point I was verging on tears). He told me to clean out his mouth and give him something to drink. And that was it! "What if he ate half the tube?" (I could have sworn the tube was almost full but now looked almost empty!) Again, he told me to clean him up and give him his breakfast.

So, that's what I did. I took him to Debbie's and told her the story, again on the verge of tears. She was nice enough to tell me this would be one of many freak outs I would have with regards to Evan and also shared one of her "moments" with her oldest, Mason. I felt a little better. I asked her to call me if Evan threw up or was overly fussy.

It turned out that he was fine. He never got sick or showed any signs of anything being wrong (except for his late afternoon crankiness due to cutting his two front teeth!).

I get asked often lately about having another baby (what is it about your baby turning one that makes people start asking about having another one??). Suffice it to say, based on this little story of over-reaction (and there are many more), I think I'm better off with just one!

Special Firsts

It all started just two short weeks ago when Evan began standing on his own. I was at work and called Debbie (our neighbor and Evan's sitter) to check on Evan. She broke the news to me that he was in fact standing by himself. I got teary-eyed just thinking of it. She was sweet to talk me through it over the phone, probably sensing that I was emotional. She said, "Okay, he's standing, still standing, still standing, oh, he fell!"

The next day I saw it for myself. I was sitting in the living room sharing a snack with Evan as he stood beside me, using my shoulder for support. All of a sudden he let go while he fed himself graham crackers! I was amazed!

Just one week later I called Debbie again to check on our little man. She said, "we have another first". All I could think was that he took his first step and I was not there to see it. Again, I got a little teary. I was wrong, however. Evan had not walked but he had learned to climb the stairs! With Debbie close behind our little baby (I cannot get it through my head that he's more of a toddler now than a baby!) managed to climb all the way up the stairs!

Of course, when we got home I had him do it for me and again, I was amazed. When did he become so independent? We couldn't wait for Daddy to get home so we could show him the newest first! He was so excited that he immediately grabbed the video camera to record the monumental event.

Since that day, Evan has mastered stair climbing. Sometimes he actually prefers climbing the stairs over and over to playing with his toys (wish that was my preference!). Now we just have to figure out how to teach him to get back down...

So just when I thought we were at our peak of newness with all that had taken place in two short weeks, Evan walked. On the evening of Monday, July 7th 2008 our baby took his first four steps toward me. I was completely overwhelmed with pride. I realize that this is no outstanding feat; he was going to walk at some point in time. But just seeing him have the courage to put one little chunky foot in front of the other made me feel so proud.

It made me think of all those times in our lives that our parents have told us they were proud of us; graduation, marriage, and all the little accomplishments in between. It always just seemed like the obligatory thing to say, "We're so proud of you". I never really understood what they truly felt until now. It felt like my heart was bursting from my chest and I just wanted to scoop him up and swing him around and tell him how great he is (which I did!). Hmmm...maybe I'll have to temper this in the future with lessons in humility!

DaDa-SchmaDa!

Since his first "coo" I could not wait for Evan to make more recognizable sounds and words. In fact, as of late, it's been a cause of concern for me that he had not yet said "mama" or "dada" since this is a nine-month milestone (milestones make me CRAZY!). I just knew that, because Evan was quickly approaching 10 months with no utterance of either of these sounds, speech therapy was looming in our future! I am your typical (well, maybe a little on the atypical side!) worrisome, first-time mommy and as many times as books and his doctor tell me that each child is different, I still freak out at the slightest sign of a delay!

This past Sunday as I waited for Evan to fall asleep for his morning nap, I listened to him on the monitor. Did I hear that correctly? Is he saying "dada"??? It couldn't be! To my glee Evan had started saying those words I had waited so, um, impatiently, to hear!! I didn't say anything to Scott right away. I wanted him to hear it himself - mostly to be sure I wasn't making this up in my head! Almost immediately Scott came to me and said, "I think he's saying dada!" And so it happened, Evan's first consonant pronunciation.

Evan seemed to babble his new-found sound all day. Monday morning came and there the two of us were, going through the morning routine before heading off to the sitter and work. There was just something about feeding, cleaning, dressing, and changing him while he happily sang "dada, dada" that made me really want to hear "mama"! I do realize he doesn't necessarily know who Dada is right now and I should have been prepared since I knew that this was the first sound he would make. But it doesn't make me want to hear mama any less!

Oh well, Scott might have the first sound but we both get so much more from his smiles, laughs, cries we get to comfort, and his first-time adventures we get to witness; that'll hold me for a while!