4 Months and Counting…Way Too Fast

Today was Malia's four month checkup.  She is continuing to grow well and is making up for the fact that she was little when she was born.  She is 14 lbs. 2 oz. and 24 inches long.  Her head is still on the small side, but is getting closer to being in proportion with the rest of her body.  Although we were told when she was born early that she might develop closer to her adjusted age rather than her real age, in fact she is a bit ahead.  At four months, she is beginning to hit developmental milestones that are common at six months.  The doctor attributes it to good parenting.  I attribute it entirely to Malia.  I’m not doing anything special.

She is in no danger of having a flat head, although she does have the "ring of baldness" that all my children have developed, the one where the hair is rubbed off their head all the way around where it comes in contact with the surface they are lying on.  She is beginning to grasp objects and makes all kinds of vocalizations.  She loves to interact with people and she is sleeping like a little angel.  She is generous with her smiles and lets us know without a doubt when she is displeased.  She can roll up on her side and is getting close to being able to sit up for a few seconds.  She has all her brothers wrapped around her little finger and she thrives in the midst of all the attention.

I am madly in love with my little stinkpot.  Her big old grins can make any day seem brighter.  She had her second batch of immunizations today and tugged at my heart when I picked her up to comfort her afterward and heard, "(sob, sob) Mamama...(sob)."  How could any self-respecting mother not melt at hearing that?  The first couple of months with her extended hospital stay and being tethered to the oxygen tank seemed to last forever.  But now time is going by much to quickly.  I want to just tell her to slow down and give me a chance to savor her babyhood!

Have I Mentioned Lately That I Love Our Preschool?

Today was Breakfast with Santa at preschool.  Santa takes time out of his busy schedule to spend a morning with the kids in Matthew’s preschool.  He reads them a story, brings them a small gift (a book), lets them sit on his knee, and hangs around for some classic 4-year-old conversation while they eat cinnamon rolls and drink milk.  Although he always gets shy when Santa comes, Matthew has been excited about this all month.  When I woke him up this morning, he got right out of bed and got ready for school.  As we left our house, we noticed that there were hoof prints in the snow on our driveway (for real).  When we mentioned it to Santa, he told us that Donner had gotten out.  Matthew may have declined to talk to Santa (“He already knows what I want!”), but when he told Kev all about the hoof prints and the reindeer he got super excited: raised eyebrows, wide twinkling eyes and the whole bit.  Although Matthew will always pose for a photo with Malia, he is still like a Hollywood mogul doing the jail walk for the paparazzi when he is alone.  So while the other moms get a picture of their little darlings sitting on Santa’s knee and grinning, I get this:

Once again, life would be boring if he didn’t have such a huge personality.

I've Never Seen One Like This In Nature...

My boys are really into Star Wars, as evidenced by the great lightsaber battles that frequently occur in at our house.  Knowing this, Rachael sent me a link to a website that had patterns for Star Wars snowflakes.  This morning the boys got around to trying them out.  They were pretty complicated and since I was baking cookies while they were crafting, all Matthew got done was cutting out the circles of paper.  After having two “epic fails,” (his words, not mine) Daniel got frustrated and gave up.  Nathan had two or three failures of his own, but then he figured out how to make it all work and spent the next three hours making snowy Star Wars creations to adorn our walls.  It would appear that the (Christmas) force is with us.

A Baby High

No, I am not referring to drug consumption.  I am referring to Malia’s first time in the highchair.  She is a people person and she prefers to sit up rather than lie down so dinner time either consists of her crying because she is down on the floor, crying because she is alone in the swing, or perfectly happy while Kev or I eat one handed.  So out came the highchair.  Unfortunately, we can’t find the legs (we have moved since the last time we used the highchair and they were not where we thought they were) so we had to get some 1-inch dowels to make new legs.  We haven’t had time to trim them down yet, so the high chair is even higher than usual.  And Malia is perfectly pleased about the whole thing.

She Definitely Knows Her Own Mind...

You may recall that I mentioned that Malia was highly opinionated before she was born.  That was why in spite of the plethora of ultrasounds we had (7) we never did get that cute profile picture that most people get.  And this particular personality trait has not diminished now that she is on the outside.  She is generally a very happy baby, but she will cry…a lot… when she needs something if it takes us too long to figure out what she is in need of.

For instance, she used to scream heartily when I gave her a bath.  For the first couple of months, bath time was synonymous with torture time.  Then one day I accidentally got the water too hot.  It wasn’t hot enough to burn or anything like that, but it was definitely hotter than I would ever run it for a baby.  But since it wasn’t going to hurt her and I figured she was just going to shriek anyway, I just stuck her in the tub.  And guess what?  No crying.  At all.  It would seem that she gets cold easily (like me) and really, really hates being cold.  Now I run the bath water hotter than I normally would for a baby, turn up the heat in the house, close the bathroom door to trap the warm air and periodically pour nice hot water over her to keep her warm.  I feel like I’m basting a turkey.  The bath time temper tantrums have ended and I even get an occasional smile while she is in the tub.

Needing a diaper change is another event that will send Malia into fits.  Once she cried all the way home from my parents’ house (about 35 minutes since we had one stop we needed to make) because she had a wet diaper and we didn’t know it.  When that happens, she will stop crying as soon as I lay her on the changing pad.  Sometimes she even looks a big smug when I start taking her clothes off to change her.

Last night was another one of those nights when screaming happened for an unknown reason.  Bedtime is usually pretty calm for us.  Not only does Malia sleep 9-11 hours each night, but she falls asleep on her own in her bed.  I just lay her down when she is drowsy and she goes off to sleep.  Perhaps the biggest (we’re talking huge here) blessing of having such a great little sleeper is that we did not have to let her cry it out to learn this skill.  She did it all on her own.  She’s the only one of my children who hasn’t needed some time screaming their lungs out before they would fall asleep without being held and rocked.  Much nicer on my nerves.  But back to last night.  We had finished the first half of her bedtime feeding and Malia had been changed and bundled into her jammies.  I settled in to finish her feeding…and that is when the wailing started.  We’re talking banshee-like wailing.  End of the world kind of wailing.  She obviously did not want to eat, so I started working through all the things that could be bothering her.  Checked her diaper to make sure it was still dry.  Repositioned her jammies and blanket to make sure they weren’t pinching or binding her in an uncomfortable way.  Tried rocking her and soothing her in all the ways she likes best.  Nothing worked.  And as she screamed in my arms, her little body as stiff as a board, a little thought came into my mind.  The thought was that I should just put her into her bed.  Now, this thought was pretty welcome at that point because I was getting worn out and I realized that at the rate we were going she was never going to let herself relax enough to get drowsy so I could put her to bed.  So I figured I’d try it.  I mean, she was already shrieking like a maniac.  I figured it couldn’t get much louder.  And then guess what?  As soon as she realized I was headed for the bedroom, my little stinkpot immediately stopped screaming.  I laid her in her bed and heard not another peep until morning, when she woke up gurgling and cooing and “talking” to the Snoopys on the canopy of her bassinet.  Happy as a little clam. (That’s another blessing, by the way.  Having a baby that wakes up happy in the morning instead of crying is such a wonderful start to the day!)  So obviously she was tired and just wanted to be put in her bed, but I have to admit that I’m a bit afraid of how stubborn this child will be when she is two…

Jolly Old St. Nicholas

This morning was our ward Christmas party.  In this ward it is traditional to have a breakfast so we headed over to the church for pancakes, eggs, sausage, and cinnamon rolls.  Matthew and I brought our own cinnamon rolls and juice since we are the dietarily restricted ones in the family. (At least mine is only temporary.  I cannot tell you how much I miss cheese...)  In addition to breakfast, they had a service project (cleaning nursery toys) and a family activity (making a family home evening kit).  It was different than the usual food and program party that we usually get and I really enjoyed it.

The highlight of the morning, of course, was a visit with Santa.  Nathan declined to sit on his lap, standing across the room and grinning at him instead.  Matthew would not sit on Santa's lap either, but after some convincing he agreed to at least whisper in Santa's ear what he wants for Christmas.

Matthew wants a dinosaur train with the stations just like on Dinosaur Train.  I'm pretty sure Santa may have something else in mind, but Matthew does have a birthday coming up so we'll just have to see how it all turns out.  Malia didn't cry when we introduced her to Santa, but the look on her face tells me she wasn't too sure about the whole thing.  I'm pretty sure all she wants for Christmas is a clean diaper, a full tummy and plenty of attention.

Smarter Than Your Average...Dinosaur?

Matthew has been really into Dinosaur Train lately.  This PBS kids show is available on Netflix and he watches the available episodes over and over and over…but I really can’t complain because he is learning a ton.  He walks around the house singing the songs from the show and is constantly telling us great things that he has learned.  (Seriously, he’ll walk up to me and say, “Did you know that there are a lot of mammals that are nocturnal?”  And the crazy part is that he knows exactly what he is talking about and can explain it to you.)  A couple of weeks ago he got out the hole punch and a bunch of paper so he could punch “train tickets” and play dinosaur train with me.  Just for the record, it is really hard to fold laundry with itty bitty t-rex arms.  But at least he let me bring the laundry on the dinosaur train, so I really can’t complain.  Besides, we had fun.

This evening while I was making dinner, Matthew was trying to teach me to play “hyper hypothesis” like they do on dinosaur train. (It kind of freaks me out that not only does my 4 year old know the word “hypothesis,” but he can define it correctly and knows that the plural is “hypotheses” not hypothesises.)  Apparently the point is to make a big guess as quickly as you can.  So I started throwing things at him, trying to figure out how to play the game. “I have a hypothesis that Matthew will clean up his lunch.  I have a hypothesis that dinner will be really yummy.  Like that?”  Apparently I was doing it wrong, so I tried again:  “I have a hypothesis that Daniel will grow up to be taller than me.”  Without even blinking, Matthew shot back, “No!  That’s just a fact!”

I laughed.  Hard.  Still giggle when I think about it.  What a smarty farty pants.

Happy, Happy Birthday, Daniel Dear!

How in the world did Daniel get to be 11 already?  I certainly don’t feel old enough to have an 11 year old.  Of course, the gray hairs that I’ve begun to spot would seem to bely that fact.  And since I have high school friends who have children in college, I guess I really must be old enough.  But the time is passing far too quickly…

Daniel has passed the years of Musical Chairs and Pin the Tail on the Donkey and a perfect party for him consists of pizza, a movie, and a bunch of friends.  And while I truly appreciate the ease of planning and executing such a party, I’m most grateful that he has a circle of wonderful friends that he loves to spend time with.  I had a tight little group of friends like that when I was growing up and there are not many things that I’ve wanted more for my children than some “through thick and thin” kind of friends.

I also love that Daniel has inherited his parents’ wacky sense of humor.  The movie he chose to watch was “Galaxy Quest” and when I was at a loss for how to make a Galaxy Quest cake, Kev suggested we use rock candy to make rock monsters.  I made and frosted the cupcakes and Daniel created the monsters.

Daniel’s friends and family know him well and he received an abundance of Star Wars Lego, some K’nex, a remote control car and a build-it-yourself solar-powered robot inchworm which he stayed up until 11:00 p.m. to build the night he received it.

When we made the cake for Daniel’s celebration with family, Daniel very generously left half the cake monster-free so that Matthew would be able to eat some (the candy had a cross-contamination warning for peanuts).  For those who don’t know, Garignack is the name of the rock monster in Galaxy Quest.  I have no idea how to spell it.  I was just making it up as I went along.

So happy birthday, kid.  I have a feeling that if I blink, you just might grow up without my permission.