The struggle is so very, very real.
Awkwardly, considering Ander's half birthday is on Christmas Day, we have to broach the topic of Christmas in this post as well even though the holiday was over a month ago. Apologies. I would have included this in his last post just to keep with the Christmas theme, but then I would have had to publish the post as an actual novella.
We had Mark's mom's side over at our house the day after Christmas for some holiday festivities and it was a great time! Everybody fit in our cozy sitting room (suspected Weasley Triwizard tent shenanigans) and we enjoyed probably the longest White Elephant exchange I've ever been a part of, simply because stuff kept getting stolen.
We ended up with exactly what I wanted, though. Some DVD racks, which are now filled with our alphabetized movie collection (then sings my soul), and the game Boggle! I forced Mark to steal that one. Blessed human that he is.
Then it was high time for pie, and family photos using our fancy new camera with the tripod and remote clicker.
Ander had such a good time being loved on by everyone, he was such a peach the whole party.
Then of course it was New Years', but I didn't get a single photo of the events from that night/day. We spent it with, of course, our second families, the McHardy's (Jr. and Sr. plus Archaic) (love you, Gregor) and the Davis'. Board and party games galore, all kinds of snackage, and one party animal baby that refused to go down for any sort of decent nap let alone a good night's sleep.
We finally packed up and trucked the 10 minutes home at around 2 am, but Ander had an awful night. We attempted to give him some homeopathic cough medicine hoping it would knock him out, but I spent the better part of those wee morning hours rocking him in the nursery, feeling him twitch restlessly and worrying about the pitter-patter of his accelerated heart rate. Around 7 in the morning I finally went and got Mark up and asked him to come check Ander and tell me whether I was just being crazy. We officially took his heart rate and it was well over 200 beats per minute. Mark stayed with him while I went to get some sleep, and eventually he drifted off to sleep and we didn't have any more issues.
He's since had that same medicine again (a smaller dosage, to be sure) and he didn't have any side effects, so we're thinking it was just a bizarre, terrifying coincidence.
Ander also had his 6 month vaccinations, the week after Christmas, and all was well until the day after when he picked off one of his bandaids, ATE it, as well as some scraps of Christmas wrapping paper, and I had no idea until he started gagging and choking as he was vomiting it back up.
Little Man is barely over half a year old and already giving me heart attacks with his mischievous shenanigans. Lord give me strength.
New Years' day we spent the morning letting Ander sleep as long as he would and then we crashed the shooting party out in the desert with Allie and Alex and her family. Ander was happy to chill with Grandma Karen and Abby in the truck since there were no hearing protection options for his tiny little ears.
We rode in the Rhino, Ander all cozied up in a soft, fuzzy blanket and was totally wiped out after a minute or so of riding around. Rocked him right to sleep.
He's so incredibly strong, and cannot abide being laid down on his back now that he can crawl and sit up and get around. Diaper and wardrobe changes are the stuff of nightmares. I can almost trust him with a squeeze pouch of food by himself, until I give him the empty leftover packet and see him chewing on the bottom of it. Not quite there, yet.
Sadly, the dogs aren't sure what to do with this newly mobile claw machine. The minute he starts purposefully dragging himself in their direction they shoot off into another room. I've been very careful to not let him be overly rough with them, redirecting his grabbing hands from their soft ears. But they still don't seem to be very enthused with his presence. Which slightly kinda totally breaks my heart. There's still time, though. I'm holding out for the chance that Mor'du just wants someone who can run around and play fetch with him.
He's curious about everything, wants to touch and hold and taste anything he can get his hands on. Especially our dvds or my sheet music and books. I'm thrilled that he's so into books, but would prefer if he'd stick to board books for now. Looking into cheap shelving options thanks to Explorer Man. He's also teasing me with being adorably cute around the piano. We sit in front of it and play around and he gets all excited. Too excited, probably, the keys get a bit drooly.
Twenty-two pounds, at least twenty-seven inches, he's my happy, go-lucky, crazy about life nutjob and there's no one I'd rather bunk with in this asylum.
He's obsessed with that scrolled table.
Which is worrisome when it's made of
hard cold metal
and your boy has a habit of tipping over.
Can I EVEN with those rolls?
No. I can't.