Friday, May 30, 2014

Seven Quick Takes with spreadsheets, messy kitchens, and rifles

Last night he was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed until about 9:45,
at which point he crashed like this.
Tad had his 6-month checkup on Tuesday. He weighed 16 pounds 3 ounces and was 26.25 inches long. I am irrationally annoyed that he didn't weigh an extra ounce, since that would have been exactly double his birthweight. They didn't harass us about his weight, though. Altogether it was a quick and pleasant appointment. The ped (despite being the one to suggest rice cereal at Tad's 3-month) didn't care that we hadn't started him on solids yet and was unfazed by his cloth diaper. He also didn't mention anything about sleep or iron supplements, which were the two things I was somewhat concerned about. (Besides weight, but I'm always concerned about weight.)

The other day I was having a moment of getting overwhelmed at the thought that I have to teach this baby EVERYTHING. (Well, Scott will help.) I have to attempt to convey the good eating habits I don't have and teach him how to talk and how to be a generally decent human being (neither of which I do much of, come to think of it) and and and...

I soothed my nerved by making a spreadsheet outlining how I'm going to introduce solids. There are multiple rankings of different foods according to their likelihood of causing an allergic reaction. I seriously need to have a second kid so I no longer have the energy to micromanage like this.

Speaking of good eating habits, I really need to start allocating maybe $10 of our monthly grocery budget toward dessert and making myself take the rest out of my allowance. Because it's just silly to go through a ton of cookies and ice cream and then find yourself at the end of the month with no money left for meat and vegetables. Also, I need to stop eating sugar like it's my job, because it's not. (My job is making spreadsheets tracking my baby's life. :) )

The other day, I felt led by the Holy Spirit to take some pictures of my kitchen and share them with my moms' Facebook group. I'll share them with you guys too:

My parents celebrated their 28th anniversary on Wednesday by going to a shooting range and firing my dad's new(-ish) rifle at paper targets. Apparently they had fun.

The last time Mom fired a gun, she was about 10 weeks pregnant with me.

Random story I might have told before: A few hours after we brought Tad home from the hospital, we were standing around talking to Eldest Younger Brother (who had come over to help set up the pack-n-play and such). Scott was holding the baby, who got the hiccups. After a few minutes, Scott sneezed loudly twice in a row. The baby stared at him in wide-eyed shock and his hiccups were cured. It was kind of hilarious.

(I was looking for a picture to use to illustrate this take and got lost in a sentimental rabbit trail. MY BABY WAS SO TINY!!!)

Speaking of nostalgia, I heard this song on the radio the other day and I remembered how it always seemed to come on when I was driving home from having my blood drawn for progesterone checks last spring/summer.


I used to offer up my progesterone injections for Dwija's little Nicholas, and now she is due with his little brother ANY DAY, so keep the Borobias in your prayers for sure.

For more Quick Takes, visit Conversion Diary!

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