Greetings and welcome to the Moss Blog, back in business. So sorry for the lapse last week, among the things going on that prevented timely posting: weathering a family cold, schleping on a couple of flights across the continent, rebooting a 4-month-old's sleep schedule across 3 time zones, making several social visits to a hospital, consuming large amounts of holiday victuals, regularly exceeding the recommended dosage of Trofatters per day, introducing Moss to snow, and dealing with 4 month vaccines. We're still recombobulating after all that, so I'm just going to give you all the photos of the madness. Next week we shall have a Dear 5-month-old Moss letter *and* a Ben post, and I have some fun holiday things in the works for later this month.
The calm before the storm, by which I mean taking a 4-month-old on a redeye flight from SFO to Knoxville through O'Hare during Thanksgiving week. WHAT COULD GO WRONG?
Luckily, nothing went wrong at all (except that I couldn't manage a non-blurry picture of the plane ride)
Finally at Mimi T's, enjoying the ring sling
Life kind of doesn't get better than this...
Moss's first snow (and first introduction to the hilarious buffalo sweater)
Meeting Gramimi C
Hey, I have an Uncle Pete too!
Mmm, yes, go on. What about this "itsy-bitsy" spider?
The coveted, long-awaited, last available 4 generations photo.
Last week in the letter to a 4 month old Moss, I described a very cranky baby and attributed the crankitude to about 20 different things, including teething, developmental frustrations, sleep regressions, the kitchen sink, everything. While it's certainly the case that there is a lot of social/cognitive/motor/physical growth going on, I missed the boat on noticing that the fuss-monster was actually sick. :( His first stomach virus diagnosis explains everything I had been brushing off as symptoms of anything else I could think of -- the reappearing arsenic hour (nope, just evening abdominal pain), the seemingly random and sporadic fear-like responses to the changing table and blanket time (nope, just horrible GI cramps brought on by lying flat), the sleep regression (nope, just waking up every hour to feel icky), the green poop, drool and hand-biting I thought was teething (nope, just diarrhea, extra stomach acid and wanting to nurse more because ouch).
poor sick Moss right before the doctor told us about the baby-eating virus terrorizing the town
Oh and speaking of green poop, you're welcome for my lack of facebook postings about that. I actually had to restrain myself on more than one occasion (once when I put two and two together and realized frequent green poop = GI bug, and once when he had his first normal looking poo after starting probiotics). I've been told by more than a few people that my life would revolve around poop in a very strange new way during my first few years as a parent, but I was skeptical. Nope, seriously my thought process when his poo was finally back to that beautiful mustard brown was "YES! Oh man, what an exciting life event. To facebook! WAIT. NO."
Anyway I'm both embarrassed and disappointed that I wasn't tuned in enough to my sweet baby to intuit his illness instantly, but at the same time I'm proud that I'm laid back enough not to FLIP OUT and call the doctor every time he cries 5 minutes longer than usual. So I'm calling it even.
Now that he's feeling better, it's so obvious looking back that he was sick -- he's been so cheerful and energetic and giggly and content for a couple of days now, even given his huge and frequently exasperating developmental task list.
And of course, now that he's feeling better, tomorrow we're going to hop on a red eye flight from SFO to O'Hare for a 4 hour layover before boarding a prop plane to Knoxville, where it's 3 hours later and 40 degrees colder. WHAT COULD GO WRONG? Tune in next week for the next exciting chapter in the book of ridiculous Trofatter goings-on. It's about time for the next Ben post, I'll see if I can prod successfully enough for that to be posted next Monday.
And now I'd like to sum up our week with a video about laughing and pooping.
Time flies like an arrow, little boy, I swear I just wrote your three month letter last week. I'm glad we relished the sweet spot we were in a few weeks ago, because now your teeth are being total jerks as they slice into your gummy smile with no regard for your quality of life. This, plus a growth spurt, plus your "world of events" wonder week (which came a little early), PLUS figuring out how to roll from front to back *PLUS* then pretty much immediately (two days later) figuring out how to roll from back to side is just so much for your poor little self. You're okay-ish during the daytime, but the witching (6) hour(s) is definitely back. Around 5 or 6 it's just TIME TO FREAK OUT. You seem to be experiencing a complete identity crisis:
"I once was a boy who just liked to smile and suck on my two fingers, but now I have to GRAB ALL THE THINGS and frantically desperately put them all in my mouth because everything's all itchy and burny in there. And I really need sleep so I can grow (which hurts too, by the by), but I just figured out that my body has sagittal symmetry and is kind of cylinder-shaped, and that I can exploit these properties and actually move around on purpose -- did you know I could do that? why didn't you tell me? -- so obviously I need to practice that kind of all the time, you know? So I try to make time for it all, but there just aren't enough hours in the day, so then it all catches up to me and I just completely decompensate because frankly, I have no idea how to do everything I want to at the same time. That comes with adulthood right? Oops, no time to listen to your answer, I must roll over toward whatever that thing is over there that isn't currently in my mouth..."
On top of this (or possibly partly because of it), you're a few days deep into a crazy sleep regression. You used to sleep so well, we used to have a routine, we used to all be so rested and refreshed, but now you wake up every 45-60 minutes to nurse and play and fuss. So fun! :-/ Plus we have *still* not quite figured out a sleeping arrangement that works well for everyone. Maybe if you and your daddy weren't so Princess+Pea-y about things, we'd have an easier time. But no. You need a firm surface, Daddy needs a soft one. You need the humidifier, Daddy needs the fan. You need warm air, Daddy needs the window open. But alas, you both want to sleep next to Mama, who can (luckily) sleep anywhere. I'll let you know when I figure this one out.
But this new skill of yours, the intentional grab, it's so effing cool. It's different from the haphazard swiping you started last month. I hand you your dragonfly/ball/toothbrush/GooGoo Bun/chain link/book and you reach out gingerly and take it (and putitinyourmouthasfastasyoucan, of course). You can even turn the pages of your board books! You're obviously thrilled by the simple pleasure of being able to manipulate things. You take something and (when you're done seeing if it fits in your mouth), you turn it over and over and inspect it from every angle. If someone holds his hand in front of you, you try to pluck the fingers off one by one. ("Does this one come off? Nope. Does this one come off? Nope. Does this one...") Then you try to pry the fingers apart as if hands worked like banana peels. Then of course you just try to jam it in your mouth. And often when you reach for something, you stick your tongue out the side of your mouth in a perfect portrayal of cartoon concentration. Haven't managed to grab a picture of that yet, but I really hope I do before you change again.
You are a strong little one. You can stand on your own two feet with just a little bit of help for balance, and you can do this for a long long time. The "sit up, stand up, sit down, lie down" game is pretty much your favorite thing ever, especially when it happens 89 times in a row. You're really not a big fan of being on your back any more, I can tell you yearn for self-propulsion. You can push yourself up all the way into cobra pose and look around the room. And you can roll over, which is just so cool. You can't quite do it every time, and you need to be pretty awake to have the strength and presence of mind for it, but you very much enjoy doing it when the time is right. I think it startles you a little at first though, when you find yourself on your back after hanging out on your tummy for a while.
You are so talkative. If a Moss talks in a forest and there's no one around to hear, Moss is still very much chattering away to no one but the trees. You figured out how to roll your Rs in the back of your throat, and how to yell without crying (you sound like a screech owl).
You're experimenting with volume, crescendoing all over the place. You mix vowels and consonants together into some creepy baby language that only Mosses know. And your laugh. Aaaaaaaaah! Your laugh is the best contagious thing I encounter all day.
I hope you never outgrow this cheerful, easy-going sense of humor you have right now -- such a pleasant demeanor would serve you well in life. Although when we really get you going laughing, you get the hiccups every. time. I do hope you outgrow that.
Many loves, Moss. Keep thriving this well for a long time, please. <3
tummy time with Ruby friend
WHY CAN'T I PUT THESE HANGY TOYS IN MY MOUTH RIGHT NOW
