Chunky Gets a New "Big Boy" Seat!

That's right! "You don't get this way from starving yourself!" We have a heavy-duty on our hands! Todd took Colt to his 4 month check up last week. And I planned it that way. I took him to his 2 month check up and things were going fine - he was all smiles and giggles and totally impressing the doctor. When all that fun was over Nurse Ratchet came in for his vaccinations. He tried impressing her with his new-found smiling ability, but she was all business. And, BAM. BAM. BAM. Three shots in a row, which started to bleed, were quickly covered with band-aids, left the baby in hysterics and nearly made me cry. Obviously aware that the shot episodes were due again at 4 months, I scheduled it not for my day off - but for Todd's. He handles those things way better than I do anyway....

Things at the 4 month check went well. A little crying during the shots, but overall a success. (The nurse informed me after his first shots that "some Tylenol before he comes is a good idea - helps them with the shots." Yeah. Like, don't you think that information would have been helpful BEFORE I got there? Come on...)

I'm proud to say we have a full-blown overachiever. (Don't know where he gets that from...?) And in over-achiever I mean 95th percentile for height, weight and head size. At the tender age of 4 months we have an 18.5 pound, 27 inch monster! So, I say again, "You don't get this way by starving yourself!!"

Which means Chunky needs a new "Big Boy" seat. He's too big for his infant car-carrier. His little feet dangle over the end, its awkward to carry him, and its only recommended for babies up to 20 pounds - which he'll probably weigh by the end of the week! So, off we went last night to purchase his new, rear-facing "conversion seat". Which, from what I can tell, is just a nice way of telling you you're kid is huge and needs a bigger seat.

Hockey: Not Everyone's Favorite Sport!

We were given two tickets to the Vancouver Canuck's game this last Saturday night by a friend of Todd's that last minute couldn't go. Sounds fun, doesn't it? We thought so.....  alas, nothing ever goes as planned.

I should have known things were headed downhill when, after deciding leaving 2 hours early for the 40 mile drive was sufficient, we spent 30 minutes stopped roadside 5 miles from our house as I tried to (somewhat unsuccessfully) convince Colt to calm down - hockey is fun, right!?

Back on the road....we merged onto the freeway about 1 mile from the border crossing into what can only be explained as the worst fricking traffic jam and border back up I've ever seen. It appeared that the Canadian Border Patrol (in their infinate wisdom) had shut the border down completely as the searched the contents of every vehicle crossing the border. Awesome! After about two minutes all-stop-and-no-go-traffic the wailing from the backseat started again and I jumped in the backseat to try and calm him down.....Right. 45 minutes later we crossed the border (baby still screaming). Todd handed the guard our passports and Colt's birth certificate - he commented on the screaming baby and ushered us through without question giving us that, "Good luck with that" smirk.

The drive in was simple...what wasn't so simple was the parking. Now, I know hockey is huge in Canada, so the fact that there weren't any cars or people milling around GM Place made me wonder if there really was a game that night. Because that would be our luck: drive 2 hours north, arrive late, struggle with parking only to find there wasn't a game. I checked the tickets though and we were definately in the right place at the right time....I just was thinking, "Where are all the people?" No cars, no people, no signs....

Todd asked a passerby how to get into GM Place and he pointed out a rather shady looking set of stairs "up to Door 7." What happened next was beyond belief:

We entered GM Place and it was jam packed with people. So many people you couldn't walk, breathe, buy a beer or use the bathroom. It was like some door had been opened into an underground fight club. It was insane. And obviously we were overdressed. And by that I mean in parkas, furry boots, stocking caps and carrying a diaper bag, extra jacket and throw blankets. Ice rinks are cold, no? No they're not. Not when there are 30,000 people there. It was 70 Deg in there - and we were obviously overdressed.

The baby seemed to amuse people. Todd had him in the front carrier and drew a lot of attention. Don't people bring babies to hockey games? Can't say we saw another one there....

We missed the entire first period due to the screaming fit and the border debacle, so we took our seats and caught the entire second period, passed up buying beer at the break and started into the third period. Colt loved all the sounds, colors and people. He was all smiles. And then the Canucks scored. People shot out of their seats screaming, buzzers, air horns and whistles went off and, although I had his ears covered, Colt went nuts. And not in a good way. When the crowd's screaming died down all you could here was a red-faced baby screaming.

...and that was the end of our hockey game. We left with 4 minutes left in the game. No one appreciated it more than the baby. Probably not another hockey game in our near future.

Some New Pics!

Colt is becoming the absolute cutest thing ever!! I mean, don't get me wrong - he's always been adorable, but he's starting to interact so much more now! It's becoming hard for me to even remember the days of crying fits (for absolutely no reason whatsoever) or the sleepless nights and midnight feedings. Every day he looks more like a little man and does amazing things. I remember when you couldn't get him to grasp a toy for very long and now I see him smashing his plastic keys all over his exersaucer. Or, I'd put him in his bassinette at 8pm, fast asleep, realizing I'd be up in two short hours to feed him..again! And now when he goes to sleep I often times find myself wide awake in the middle of the night wondering why he's not awake, staring at him fast asleep! This weekend he's making the big move to the crib because he tops out the bassinette. If he streches out, his head touches one end and his feet touch the other. I often times find myself saying things like, "Remember when he used to do this? That was when he was a baby. Now he's all grown up." Right, because pushing 4 months is "all grown up", right? Right. All grown up. And the cutest thing ever. Every day he does something new -  the other day during a diaper change he laughed. A real laugh. Not the sucking-in-air thing he usually does. A real, genuine laugh. And during dinner when he's in his Bumbo chair he and Todd talk about his day. Swear its the funniest thing ever.

Todd: "So, how was your day?"

Colt: "Rrrggg. Rggg. Woooaa.."

Todd: "Oh. Really? What did you do?"

Colt: "Aaahhh. Rrrraaa. gaaaaa."
Todd: "Oh, you got your diaper changed? Really?"

Colt: "Arrrr. Ahhhh."

Todd: "Oh no she didn't? Mommy would never do that."

Colt: "ArRRRR. GaaaaaaAAA."

Todd: "Oh, you went on a walk. Sorry. I misunderstood you."

So, here's a few pics to show him grow!

2 days - coming home from the hospital!

One week!

About 4 weeks

8 weeks

9 weeks

11 weeks

And might I add to the last picture just how funny the shirt is. It's a Christmas gift from Grandma and for those of you who don't know the story of Colt....there's a reason he was due Sept. 25th. Nine months exactly from Christmas Day 2008. That would be the Christmas we spent in Cancun. See the humor now? Too much information???

Shower Time Is His Favorite Time...at Least if You're a Practicing Voyeur.

 When we remodeled our house last year we did some pretty amazing updates. I don't want to toot my own horn, but far one of my absolute favorite additions is the new master bathroom shower. It's a full sized bath stall with not one, but two, shower heads and (upon my request) a bench where I can prop my foot whilst I shave my legs. It also has a completely glass front from floor to ceiling. Perfect in every sense of showering pleasure.

 Colt's not too big on the showering experience, but rather prefers a nice warm bath. (This probably stems from the fact that the first time we took him into the shower we accidentally had the blow-your-skin-off back massaging setting on and hit him in the stomach with it. That shower didn't last too long...) And, the easiest thing to do is put him in his vibrating chair propped up facing us while we shower. This is some of his favorite and happiest time spent all day. I can't help but notice that he's a little more energetic, laughable and all around happier staring at us from his chair. Our shower time truely is some of his best time. I can call his name from the shower and his face lights up as he looks me dead in the eye and starts squealing back at me. He smiles a huge smile and attempts a laugh (which is mostly just a huge smile while he sucks air in.) His arms flail around like he's a karate master and he pumps his little feet like he's sprinting the last 40 meters of a marathon. Seriously entertaining.

 Then I got to thinking the other day he was really enjoying this. Like seriously enjoying it. And what if the watching people shower for entertainment value thing never goes away? What if he continues down the path of voyeurism? What if we're paving the road for some creepy shower-gawking teenager? Then I tell myself "who cares?" Twenty minutes of a quiet, entertained, completely placid baby is worth the potential long term effects.

 That said, we might be switching to a Pack-n-Play in the front room from here on out. One can never be too safe.

And This Is How I Know The Pigs Would Eat Me If I Fell...

Christmas came late this year at our house. Between shift work (brother), holiday work (me), regular work (other brother) and vacation (other, other brother) we managed to celebrate the Sunday after Christmas. Todd cooked an amazing turkey but there's always the question of what to do with the extra pieces of unidentifiable turkey bits stuffed in the body cavity. We had pulled turkey sandwiches so there wasn't really a need for gravy and, after the last post (see dog barfing many times in night), I wasn't about to feed it to him.

Todd: "Give it to the pigs."

Me: "Really?"

Todd: "Yeah."

Me: "Really?"

Todd: "Yeah."
Me: "Raw?"
Todd: "Yeah."

Me: "Gross."

So, I plopped the bits, blood and all, into the slop bucket and headed to the pig pen. Mmmm. A Christmas dinner fit for kings: rotten veggies, potato peelings and various raw turkey chunks all smothered in steaming hot water. I was getting a little urpy just carrying it to the barn.

I filled their trough up with cereal and hog feed and them came tearing out of their house like it was, well, Christmas dinner. I started to pour the gut water onto the cereal and, just when I was totally convinced (after having barfed a little in my mouth...) they wouldn't eat that crap, they went apeshit. Not the usual "Hey. This is cool. Cereal again." More of the "I'm going to bite your legs off so you can't move and I will feast on this until I am too full to eat anymore."

 I cringed a little. Then I looked down just as the fat one grabbed the turkey neck in it's jaws and started gnawing on it like Griz chews sticks. He ran off to the middle of the pen squealing so the others wouldn't hastle him for a bite. Totally disgusting. So, I'm convinced now that they have the taste of blood in them they're man eaters. There's no way I'm going in there. They'd probably look at my calves like they looked at that turkey neck and I'd be dead: pounced on by weiner pigs.

I heard once pigs won't eat licorice flavored ice cream (a little known tidbit of information picked up from the Ben and Jerry's website) but, after the turkey neck incident I seriously doubt that's true. Dude. Raw? Come on.