Today marks 24 weeks on Little Roo's pregnancy calendar, and that means a new belly photo with my big boy.
I'm not a huge fan of this month's photo… But it's not really about me, is it? :)
I feel like I'm as big as a house, and I recently got a hair cut that I'm not really liking either. And if it looks like I'm tired, it's because I am. Patrick was away all week, and being a single parent is beyond exhausting. Especially being a single parent of a toddler, and simultaneously growing another human. Anyone who has a 3 year old feel like they're stuck on a roller coaster? The highest of sweet and loving highs, and the lowest, most stubborn and whiny lows.
All that aside, I spent the week moving furniture in and out of Gunnar's room (twice), and organizing all his toys (twice), and giving everything in his room a very deep clean. We're talking scrubbing walls, and furniture, and even washing the mattress!
Now I think it's time to join my little man in a nap. Until next month…
Baby's first stitches? Well, we ALMOST made it to 18 months before our wild child ended up in the emergency room to get something stitched. Almost. I'm actually kind of surprised it didn't happen sooner, with the way this monster monkey climbs, and is so stubborn independent. But here's how it happened...
Last night was just like any other night, Patrick was still at work, Gunnar and I were playing around before he ate dinner. At the time of the incident we were playing with one of Gunnar's favorite things - a bucket. This one was a soft, nylon one shaped by springs. He was busy putting it on his head and taking it off, giggling while I asked "Where'd Gunny go?!"
He started throwing it back and forth with me, when it landed on the couch. He decided he wanted to get it, so I let him. He climbs on and off the couch about a thousand times a day so it's no big deal. Still, I was so close to him we were touching. Halfway up it was like he decided to stop climbing, and slid down off the cushion. Something went wrong, and instead of landing on his feet, he slipped landed on his butt, and his ear caught the corner of our coffee table JUST SO that it split wide open. He started crying, I picked him up thinking he just bumped his head, yet again. Then I saw the blood, and when I took a closer look I saw a flap of cartilage. Gross.
I had a minor freak out and almost called 9-1-1. I'm glad I decided not to, because after I threw clothes on him (he was naked) he was totally fine. Totally acted like he wasn't bleeding every where. I mean, it was on our couch, his jammies, the car seat, his face, me. On the car ride over, I was panicked and shaky, and of course hit every red light (and got stuck waiting on our one lane bridge). I called Patrick, who answered his phone apologetically that he hadn't left the office yet. I said no worries, meet me at the hospital. And he did. After a horrible experience at the civilian hospital, I knew we wouldn't be going there again, and we headed for base.
Patrick arrived just as I was signing us in, and I can't tell you how glad I was that he was there! He's much calmer than I am, and Guns loves his Dada so it automatically made him forget about everything else. Plus it was another set of hands to grab him when he tried to run off, and someone else to help keep him busy when he got bored.
There were a lot of people so I expected to wait a while. Gunnar entertained himself by literally running up and down the halls, looking like a lunatic... with a face covered in blood, laughing his little tush off. All in all, it wasn't terrible. It would have been a bad experience no matter where we went just because of the circumstance. We were there for about three and a half hours, including wait time, triage, doctor's exam, stitching, and picking up prescriptions.
I won't talk much about the stitching because it was quite a traumatic experience. But we all survived, and Guns has 9 stitches to show for it. Now I'm left with the task of keeping a bandage on it 24/7 for the next 5 to 10 days, changing it daily. Are you kidding me?! Luckily, we've done one change and it wasn't too awful. Once we got the tape off he let me do what I needed to do. And he leaves it alone for the most part. He will only poke at it if he accidentally touches it. Kind of like "Hey, what's this on my ear?" I tell him no, and he stops. Hopefully he will keep up the good work and it will heal up just fine.
But UGH what an experience. I have an unfortunate feeling it is the first of many...
We spent Christmas in SC with Patrick's family. It was the first one I ever spent NOT with my family, which was hard for me to get over. But we had a very nice visit with the in-laws! It was fun to see Gunnar and his 1-month-older cousin, David, together. David has a big sister, Mackenzie, so he is used to sharing. But Gunnar, being the only child that he is, has no grasp on the concept. He was frequently caught stealing things (sippy cups, food, toys) from David and just walking away. Poor David! Once David stood up for himself, and took his cup back from Gunnar. Gunnar's reaction was to bop him on the head. Oh my, we have work to do with our bully!
Here are some photos from our Christmas morning:
By the way, that scooter bike Gunnar is enjoying so much is David's.
We had a great time over both of our Christmases and can't wait to see everyone again!
Gunnar Douglas is no longer my little baby. Just kidding. He always will be! But, I think he has officially crossed over into "toddler-ville". He is up to a whole host of new things these days. I will do my best to remember all of them... I knew I should have been writing things down as I thought of them. But I didn't, and here I am with mommy brain trying to think of the adorably sweet (and witty) things I wanted to say about my baby.
As you know, he's walking all over the place. Running at times. He climbs now too. On the couch, up the stairs (that's right he figured out the gate). He also taught himself to turn around and slid off the couch (or bed) on his belly. Genius.
Speaking of bellies. That's the first body part he learned. Every time I ask him "where's your belly?" he comes running over to me, lifts my shirt up and pokes my belly. Thanks, kid. That's just what everyone wants to see... Ugh. But it's so cute I don't even care (most of the time).
He currently loves any kind of toy vehicle. He gets a kick out of moving them back and forth, over and over and over and over... Then he looks up at me like, "hey ma! look what I can do!" So freaking cute. He always seems to know when he's doing something totally noteworthy. Even though as his mom I think everything is noteworthy. More toys he likes are balls. Anything round, that rolls, or bounces, he's all over it. He loves to throw and chase, and just yesterday he started kicking (on purpose) and chasing. Way to go champ!
Now on to the birthday celebrations... My sweet angel and I spent it alone, since Dad had to report to jump school the day before his birthday. Typical. We hit up the aquarium, where he ran around and had fun poking at the fish through the glass. He even got up close and personal with a shark! We had lots of fun watching the otters and penguins too.
Then I treated him to a nice grilled cheese, and hot cinnamon apple dinner. Yum!
And when we got back home, we Facetime'd with Dad. Gunnar loved it. He kept hanging up on him because he was trying to pet Patrick's face.
He also tried cow's milk for the very first time! He loves it, can't get enough. Here he is giving it a go:
Speaking of milk... I don't talk about nursing often because well, I think it's a weird topic to discuss with non-parents, and everyone else really. But I guess when you're a mom, nothing is off limits. Plus, it's a cute story, in it's own odd little way... Gunnar is currently being weaned off of breast milk completely. We are almost there, and he seems to be handling it fine. But, he has started a new thing that's got to be the sweetest thing I have ever experienced. When he gets fussy, or just to settle down in general, he has to put his hand inside my shirt, on my chest. Right. Over. My. Heart. It's like his security blanket.
On our never-ending drive home last night he was in the middle of an all out, screaming at the top of his lungs, real people tears, head banging, leg kicking, temper tantrum, melt down. It was bad. I climbed in the back with him, he put his hand on my heart, and all was right with the world.
I could cry thinking about how sweet it is. It's like he's telling me, even though we're moving on from this, he still needs me. Just in a different way. I could just die it makes me so happy. Hopefully he will always need me... I'll just hold on to these moments for now.
And now, since this post has been a lot of writing, and not so much on the photography front, let me remedy that (and to catch up on almost 2 months of non-blogging):
Ta-Da! My one year old!
We would also like to thank Mrs. Jane for this adorable peek-a-boo bear. We lost our dear friend to breast cancer a few weeks ago, and we will always remember her. Gunnar loves his bear and we love you, Jane.
Thanks for sticking with us throught that one, it was long. Check back later for more on Gunnar's birthday party!
