First things first. I have something really exciting to share. Well, it’s exciting to me and probably no one else. Except Casey. And Crosby. Although I don’t think Crosby quite understands the significance of “exciting” things. Other than bath time. But I’m sure he still appreciates the importance of this situation, in his own baby brain kind of way. Maybe.
… What were we even talking about?
Ahh yes, big news! We’ve found a solution to Crosby’s pee leakage problem that I talked about in my last blog post. Yay!!!…… (See I warned you.) We tried all of the suggestions you lovely people sent (thank you!) and after much trial and error we found that putting Crosby in a diaper that’s one size larger than normal at night does the trick. He usually wears a size 2 during the day (yes, he’s just a little guy) so at night we put him in a size 3 Pamper’s Baby Dry and… no leaks. It’s a washing machine miracle! Apparently there are many reasons why a baby can leak at night, but in Crosby’s case it’s a quantity issue. Putting a bigger diaper on him obviously means there is more, uh, storage space for all that little potty. Aaaaand sometimes big potty.
Speaking of which, what is your stance on using the word “potty” versus “bathroom” when talking to your little ones? Some people have such a strong opinion one way or the other. Like “potty” is too juvenile but “bathroom” isn’t easy enough to say. After a great deal of thought and introspection, I’ve found that I just don’t care.
I realize that anyone still reading this post who doesn’t have kids is likely pouring gasoline on themselves at this point. So let’s move on from the potty talk and save ourselves that burnt hair smell, shall we?
I feel like we have so much to catch up on since my last blog post. I didn’t realize it had been almost a whole month since I last wrote. But a lot has been going on, so I’m thinking maybe it’s best if I do a little photo recap of the last few weeks. Sound good?
I hope you understand that that was a rhetorical question.
The weather in Oregon over the past month has been bitchin’.
Does anyone say bitchin’ anymore?…. Is it working?…. I didn’t think so.
Well anyways, we’ve been taking advantage of the weather with frequent trips to the coast. I’d go every day if I could. If anyone wants to go tomorrow, hit me up.
Does anyone say hit me up anymore?…. Is it working?…. I thought so.
Don’t worry, we put a hat on Crosbaby’s head shortly after these pictures were taken. We fully realize that the 7 hairs on his head do not suffice as sun protection. Little baldy.
On this day we wore matching stripes. Crosby’s idea. It was also his idea to have this picture taken so he could take it with him to college and tell everyone how he and his mama used to sing “Let’s. Wear. Stripes! Let’s wear stripes! Let’s wear matchy, matching stripes!” to the tune of Beauty and the Beast’s “Be Our Guest”.
Our friend Tony came from San Francisco to stay with us for a weekend. Watching him hold Crosby was mayyybe the highlight of February. He’s a total baby rookie but gets an A for effort. And a B for beer.
And on this day we realized that we all (unintentionally, promise.) wore black. So, we commemorated that day with a vewwwy sherioush pikcheew.
My mom came to visit us for a few days. This beauty just turned 50, but clearly doesn’t look a day over 25. It’s only slightly weird when she’s holding Crosby and people think he’s her baby. What makes it less weird is when I then snatch him out of her hands and scream HE’S MINE!!!
We made a quick, unexpected trip to MN last week. Casey’s beloved Grams passed away and so the three of us made a trip to the snow to be with his family and pay our respects. Casey had a really special relationship with his Grams; she was the heart and soul of his entire family. Needless to say, she will be greatly missed.
Baby eyelashes!!! I just want to gather them up and sprinkle them on my cereal. (<— Quite possibly the weirdest thing I’ve ever written. Because I can’t even remember the last time I had cereal.)
My soul sista Lindsey came to Portland. She’s the sassiest ladypants I know and I love her dearly. Fun fact. One time Lindsey and I took a road trip from MN to California and it took us until 200 miles outside of LA to determine that the terrible thing I had been smelling the whole trip was actually a pair of new leather shoes in the backseat, and definitely NOT my armpits. So.
We get a lot of questions about the mark on his upper lip. It’s a birthmark. Not a scratch, or lipstick, or the result of chewing on a marker. Which are all guesses we’ve heard.
This is Crosby and I at his SIX month check up. Pre-shots, obvi. But six months! I don’t even and can’t even. The fact that he’s half a year old makes me want to simultaneously cry and laugh. Which actually is something that Crosby does once in a while. We have this theory that he got so used to crying in his early months that now he thinks that’s what he should be doing anytime his mouth is open. It’s like a knee-jerk reflex. He’ll yawn and start crying. Or smile really big and start whimpering. Or he’ll laugh and then get a confused look on his face and start weeping. He’s actually happy, but the fact that his mouth is open throws him off. It’s pretty cute actually.
He’s also been sitting up a bit, pushing up onto all fours, eating his feets, and chatting like crazy lately. We’ve started giving him solids, which both he and Gus are really enjoying. He thinks bananas are awesome and tomatoes can suck it. He also likes when we put applesauce or mashed food onto a spoon and let him feed himself. The spoon lands in his mouth maybe 1 out of 4 times. The other three land on his forehead, down his bib, and on the window sill, respectively.
He’s finding his voice. He likes to say the word “boo” over and over again really softly. And when he’s sucking on a pacifier or a bottle, he sometimes makes this noise that sounds like he’s saying “oh yah oh yah oh yah” really fast. Which I then mock, because I’m me.
He just recently has been giving us some nice big belly laughs, and they are everything. Especially because of how challenging the first few months were. Those belly laughs are like reassurance that hey, we haven’t completely messed our kid up!
Happy six months, baby guy. We sure do love you.
The end. You did it!
Have a bitchin’ day.