Today is my dad's 52nd birthday. This morning he posted a belated Throwback Thursday picture of his dad, who was killed in a car crash about a month shy of his own 52nd birthday. It's weird to think about--at the time, my dad was 25 and my older sister was about 6 months, so really he was at about the same phase of life as I am now (almost 25 and with a 10-month-old).
Matthew still likes a cup of milk before he goes to bed. The other day, instead of trotting off to sleep, he insisted on having more cups of milk until finally Mom cut him off. Apparently he then started yelling for me, claiming that I would give him his milk. It seems that the fact that I nurse Tad on demand has made quite the impression. (No, I am not sure if Matthew thought I would bring him regular milk or breastfeed him.)
Tonight's "It's the end of the month so we're going to throw random stuff together and call it dinner" experiment:
-Melt 1 stick butter in a skillet
-Add 1 lb tilapia; cook until white and flaky
-Add 1 lb frozen mixed vegetables; cook until thawed
-Add 1.5 cups brown rice, cooked (yes, I snuck that one up on you...)
-Add a squirt of lemon juice
Last week I had a follow-up with my Creighton instructor. (No, she still hasn't figured out what my cycles think they're doing--I'm "back in cycles" now, btw. I'm sure you all really wanted to know that.) While talking about health insurance we got onto the topic of tongue and lip ties (since we paid for Tad's revisions OOP). Then later I was talking about how I never had milk supply issues in spite of my PCOS, which led to a discussion of how he was so sleepy the first few weeks it made it hard for him to nurse, and she chimed in with, "Plus I bet it was hard for him with his lip."
It's weird that a random RN whose training is in NFP can grok that, but most pediatricians and even quite a few LCs can't.
Tad's 8th tooth is basically through. I will have to have Scott look at it to confirm. I really hope that this means that some good sleep is around the corner for all of us, because we're all exhausted, especially Tad. I don't mind holding him for every nap and cosleeping and all that (well, not much--it would be nice if I could get stuff done during his naps), but I'd mind even less if it actually led to a well-rested baby instead of one who's just barely staving off exhausted breakdowns.
I am pretty sure he said "Mama" at one point earlier this week. It is hard to tell, though, because he babbles so much and "Ma ma ma ma ma" is one of his favorite syllable strings. In this instance, though, I set him down and walked out of the room and he yelled "MA MA MA MA" very emphatically until I came back and picked him up, at which point he stopped babbling and was happy.
A few weeks ago I discovered by sheer luck that Tad likes looking at books during church. He's made it three weeks in a row now without having to be taken to the back!
I figured Sandra Boynton, for all her virtues, is not very catechetical, so I asked for book recommendations on Facebook and my mom ended up volunteering to ship us all their religious board books that didn't get chewed up. She also sent a big wooden rosary. Tad liked the rosary best, but he might be too young for it still--he tries to eat the beads, and I'm not sure they're big enough to not be choking hazards.
I let him play with them for a few minutes and then put them in a bag for church. We'll see if the magic of book-reading lasts another Sunday.
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