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eleven months
Last Monday the prince was eleven months old.
I've been meaning to make note of that all week and haven't gotten around to it, but I don't want to just say "yup, eleven months" and move on because I can tell I'm already forgetting what's new and different this month and it'll be gone in another three weeks' time.
He now has four teeth and I'm confident more are coming. (I mean of course more are coming, but I mean I feel like more are cutting right now.) The ones he's got are fucking sharp, which I know because he sometimes bites when he means to give us kisses. I'm surprised he hasn't pierced skin. I'm not sure it isn't a baby bite that's responsible for the slice in my fingernail that I've been patiently trying to file smooth as it grows out and the peeling nail tries to snag on everything in sight.
I'm trying to get him to eat more food and rely less on breast milk for his nutrition, but it's slow going. And I don't know if his dad is as on board as I need him to be? That is, he's totally on board, but I'm not sure we're down with going about it in the same way. I'm really hoping this month can include a gradual decrease in milk consumption and a simultaneous increase in food and water intake - but Himself offers the boy six ounces of milk in the morning and the kid sucks it all down and then doesn't want any solid breakfast, and a large part of me feels like that's because he's full!, what do we expect? (Though it is also apparent that he simply doesn't like scrambled eggs.) But at the end of the day, we give him dinner and let him eat until he's done - and then sometimes as little as half an hour later he is shrieking for his bedtime bottle. He doesn't always drink all of it - when he pushes it away and falls asleep I don't make him finish it - but if he can see it and I'm doing something else other than give it to him, of course that makes me the meanest mommy that ever was. (When he first sees the thing, though, he does an awfully cute sort of low smug giggle. hehhehheh. It is the giggle of a boy who knows he's about to get something he wants.)
I had a lot more thoughts and then I was distracted by a day of work. Want him to eat more food and drink less milk, yes. He has figured out his sippy cup and is generally happy to drink water! So that's awesome. He'll eat most finger foods, with a little encouragement. Just not large enough (by me) servings of them. He's standing up easily and cruising fairly comfortably and sooooooo close to walking. All of which must be contributing to his total meltdowns on the changing table lately. No fooling, the very moment I put him down to get changed, screaming and trying to roll over and kicking me in the chest - which I can mitigate a bit by putting him on the floor, so at least there's nothing to fall off, but even if I'm not positioning myself to keep him safely on the table, I can't get close enough to change him without getting buffeted, so I'll be glad when he gets over that.
We seem to have lost my favorite of his bibs, which is a bummer. I'm sorry it seems to have disappeared and I'm really annoyed that I can't fathom where it could have gone. They don't seem to have it at day care, and my mother-in-law doesn't seem to have it at her house, which you'd think would mean it would have to be in our house somewhere - but I have turned the place inside out and can't find the damn thing anywhere. I've tracked down the source in order to replace it (because I'm that kind of goof about things I think are cute or special), and it's an etsy seller who's on a break. Le sigh. Hope she comes back soon.
In other news, Saturday was five years since my dad died. That's probably got a lot to do with my scatterbrainedness lately, innit.
I've been meaning to make note of that all week and haven't gotten around to it, but I don't want to just say "yup, eleven months" and move on because I can tell I'm already forgetting what's new and different this month and it'll be gone in another three weeks' time.
He now has four teeth and I'm confident more are coming. (I mean of course more are coming, but I mean I feel like more are cutting right now.) The ones he's got are fucking sharp, which I know because he sometimes bites when he means to give us kisses. I'm surprised he hasn't pierced skin. I'm not sure it isn't a baby bite that's responsible for the slice in my fingernail that I've been patiently trying to file smooth as it grows out and the peeling nail tries to snag on everything in sight.
I'm trying to get him to eat more food and rely less on breast milk for his nutrition, but it's slow going. And I don't know if his dad is as on board as I need him to be? That is, he's totally on board, but I'm not sure we're down with going about it in the same way. I'm really hoping this month can include a gradual decrease in milk consumption and a simultaneous increase in food and water intake - but Himself offers the boy six ounces of milk in the morning and the kid sucks it all down and then doesn't want any solid breakfast, and a large part of me feels like that's because he's full!, what do we expect? (Though it is also apparent that he simply doesn't like scrambled eggs.) But at the end of the day, we give him dinner and let him eat until he's done - and then sometimes as little as half an hour later he is shrieking for his bedtime bottle. He doesn't always drink all of it - when he pushes it away and falls asleep I don't make him finish it - but if he can see it and I'm doing something else other than give it to him, of course that makes me the meanest mommy that ever was. (When he first sees the thing, though, he does an awfully cute sort of low smug giggle. hehhehheh. It is the giggle of a boy who knows he's about to get something he wants.)
I had a lot more thoughts and then I was distracted by a day of work. Want him to eat more food and drink less milk, yes. He has figured out his sippy cup and is generally happy to drink water! So that's awesome. He'll eat most finger foods, with a little encouragement. Just not large enough (by me) servings of them. He's standing up easily and cruising fairly comfortably and sooooooo close to walking. All of which must be contributing to his total meltdowns on the changing table lately. No fooling, the very moment I put him down to get changed, screaming and trying to roll over and kicking me in the chest - which I can mitigate a bit by putting him on the floor, so at least there's nothing to fall off, but even if I'm not positioning myself to keep him safely on the table, I can't get close enough to change him without getting buffeted, so I'll be glad when he gets over that.
We seem to have lost my favorite of his bibs, which is a bummer. I'm sorry it seems to have disappeared and I'm really annoyed that I can't fathom where it could have gone. They don't seem to have it at day care, and my mother-in-law doesn't seem to have it at her house, which you'd think would mean it would have to be in our house somewhere - but I have turned the place inside out and can't find the damn thing anywhere. I've tracked down the source in order to replace it (because I'm that kind of goof about things I think are cute or special), and it's an etsy seller who's on a break. Le sigh. Hope she comes back soon.
In other news, Saturday was five years since my dad died. That's probably got a lot to do with my scatterbrainedness lately, innit.
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And five years. Also holy wow.
Thinking of you.