I'm really bad at this

OK. I admit it. I stink at keeping a blog. It's not that I don't want to. There's something comforting about typing random thoughts to no one in particular. But each time I start, I get distracted. Maybe it can be my not-so-New Year's resolution to do a little better.

So anyway, enough of that. Back to writing about my Munchkin. Funny how the nickname I used for him all during my pregnancy hardly seems to fit now. Ian will be 10 months old tomorrow. In the last week, I have seen him do more things than I probably have in a month. Since last Saturday, he has not only figured out how to army crawl, but has become proficient enough at it that he can not only move around on the carpet, but the hardwoods as well. Batten down the hatches!

Then there's the babbling. REAL babbling. For a while, I thought that all my son was going to do was grunt and squeal. He would whisper cute little sounds when he was deep whatever he was doing, v's and th's mostly. Not the bababa's and gagaga's and definitely not the mamama's I thought he should be saying. But last night, I heard the most beautiful sound in the world. Little "baybay's" were coming from him. Tonight, I was serenaded by louder "baybay's" accompanied by spewing food and water. I don't know about you, but I'll take beefy cheesy spitty baybay any day of the week!

Since Ian was born, Jay and I have taken pictures each month of Ian next to the hedgehog Jay won for him while on his Physics Six Flags trip a couple days after Ian was born. I plan on eventually making a scrapbook page of every month of Ian's first year, but I couldn't wait. So here are pictures from a few days old, 6 months and 9 months. My Munchkin is quite the little boy!

Ever wonder...

Ever wonder how it is that just when you think your child can't get any cuter, you wake up one morning and everything he does just makes you want to envelope him in a huge bear hug? That was Ian a few days ago. It started out like a normal Saturday. Ian woke us up at about 7:30am, like usual with his bright smile and bouncy ways. After that, everything was different.

He'd smile, I'd melt. He'd make a noise, I'd giggle. He would just sit there and play. I could not get enough of him!!!

I wish I knew what it was. Granted, I normally find him to be the love of my life (sorry Jay. I do still love you lots! :)), but that day was so unlike anything I had ever felt.

Other mothers of boys have told me there is a special connection that is unlike anything they've ever experienced. There's something about boys, they tell me, that is so different. I wonder if that's what it is. Anyone know?

Ah, progress

Ian didn't roll in any way until a day before he turned 7 months. I really was starting to think that his disposition was too laid-back for him to even consider moving anywhere.

Last week, he figured out how to roll to get what he wanted. And hasn't stopped. What's more, he's actually enjoying being on his tummy!

I love progress. And yesterday seemed to be the day for it. Dh told me yesterday that Ian got up onto his knees a little bit. Wahoo!!! And while he and I were playing in his room, he grabbed my fingers and pulled himself up to standing. Yippee!! Then, during dinner, he was able to pick up a puff in his pincer grasp and bring it to his mouth. Woohaa!

Can you tell I'm a proud mama??

It's amazing what an adrenaline rush it is to see your child do something new. Watching his face as it happens is priceless, too.

The one downside to all this progress: he's decided he really doesn't want to nap anymore. We're now lucky if we get 45 minutes in the am and pm. An hour? Better than we could hope for! I hope this is only a very SHORT phase. He's such a grump when he's overtired.


Training update
Thought I'd write about my quest to run a 5k here so that I could make myself accountable and not slack off. Training day #1 was yesterday. I actually went to the gym! I was feeling like crud, battling this cold, exhausted from lack of sleep the night before (dh also has said cold, and was hacking and sniffling all night), but I was a good girl and went anyway. It was actually good. I went 25 minutes of walking and jogging, and although I was sweaty and a little out of breath by the end, I didn't feel like I was going to die! Yay for not dying!!!!

Next training day will probably be tomorrow night after Ian goes to bed. He and I are off to my friend Jill's after I get home from work so that we can meet her new puppy, Sabre. I'm really going to push myself to get to the gym, even though 7pm is usually when I'm ready to cash it in myself. Here goes nothing!

Crawling - the next frontier. Maybe.

He's been sitting on his own since about 4 1/2 months. When you try to sit him down, he insists on standing. He's also doing pretty well just holding onto your fingers when he stands.

Crawling? Who knows.

I guess what he's doing now is pretty normal. He tries to scoot on his butt. Hasn't figured out, though, that you need to actually move your legs along with your butt to get anywhere. He's finally started rolling. It came slowly at first - just barely from back to tummy - that was a month ago. But in the last week he's really caught on, rolling all over the living room. And he's finally pushing up so that his tummy's off the ground.

I should be happy. Instead, I'm still feeling paranoid. I guess it's the worry I still feel because he was born early and so small. I keep worrying that somehow in the whole mess that was my last month of pregnancy, I screwed him up. He stopped getting bigger because of me. He came early because of me. What else did I do to him? This is the conversation I have with myself each time I hear about other babies his age. Those that are already crawling and pulling themselves up on things. Did I do something to keep him from being the same way?

Will I ever get over this feeling of guilt? I hope so. Otherwise, I'll need to get a hobby.

My quest begins Tuesday
So, I've been trying to come up with a way to get my baby weight and then some. I finally came up with a way. There's a 5k race that's been held in my area for many years called The Run for Women. It's a pretty big deal - world class runners make a point to run it every year. So I thought, why don't I?

Starting Tuesday, since that's the first day I can go to the gym because of Jay's schedule, I will start my training. I found a website that had a plan called "From the Couch to the 5k". Sounds good to me!

So, countdown to May 30th. Maybe I'll get a ticker in here or something. As soon as I figure out how to do it.

Cute moment of the day
We attended his friend Chelsea's first birthday party today. As we were leaving, we brought Ian and Chelsea close together to say goodbye. Daniella said to Chelsea, "Give Ian a kiss goodbye!" Before we knew what was happening the two of them put their heads and mouths together in what only can be called a baby kiss. Absolutely adorable! Totally melted my heart.

So much...

I look back at my previous posts. So much has changed. Not that I don't believe that THAT me existed, because I do. I definitely do. Sometimes little bits of her show up at the oddest moment.

That's what I started to write 4 months ago. I don't know why I didn't continue. Maybe I was tired, and thought I'd get back to posting later. Maybe Ian needed me for something. Who knows. I do remember what I was feeling at that moment, though. I felt like I was finally coming into my own as a mother.

Up until that point, I felt like I was flailing around, taking a stab at motherhood. Was I doing it right? Was I completely screwing up? Have I totally maimed Ian's psyche forever? Am I what Freud was talking about when all things relate back to your relationship with your mother? And then there was the endless weeping I did on Jay's shoulder every night. The fact that we're still married is a testament to that man's love and devotion to me.

Somehow, by the end of summer, I didn't feel so scared anymore. Amazingly enough, it took a weekend at my parents' to help me see what I needed to do. Don't know why - maybe it was the reassurance that I didn't have to be so serious about every little thing Ian was or was not doing. Being able to just enjoy him for who he was allowed me to let go and just let instinct take over.

And after that, I could see all the wonderful things Ian was discovering and doing. Granted, I still think there are times when Ian hates me, but that probably has more to do with his stubborn streak starting to come out and not anything I'm doing.

So much has changed.

Little things mean so much

Yes - we have what can be considered a smile!!! It was fleeting...didn't know I had it until I uploaded the picture to my computer. I must admit it melts my heart.

I caught another glimpse of the elusive smile today. When I mentioned it to Jay, he said he thought he had seen one, too.

Oh happy day!

Granted, the rest of the day wasn't all roses. Because Ian's had such a nasty time with gas and colic, I decided to take the plunge and try a new brand of bottle. Man, was he NOT happy! By the end of the bottle, I think he was used to it, but it was too late. Spewed all over my leg and the ottoman I was sitting on. Then about a half hour later, he again hurled all over himself, me and the Baby Bjorn I was attempting to put him in.

He has been good with the spewing until this point. I gave him the "Wayne's World" speech - "If you hurl, then I'll spew. If I spew, then you'll blow chunks..."

I thought he got it. I thought wrong.

Oh, but it's so fun to snuggle with him. He has definitely become quite the cuddler with me.

He's become, dare I say, a Mama's Boy? Not in the namby-pamby way, but that he'll react to me differently than he will to Jay. Ahh, once again - melts my heart.

He will be 2 months old on Monday. The time really does go quickly. Amazingly enough, I've found that even when he's screaming uncontrollably, I love every moment of having him in my arms. He's sleeping now. As much as my body is hoping that he will suddenly sleep through the night, my mind is jonesing for the moment I can cuddle with him again.

What if he never smiles...?

I always knew that motherhood was not going to be easy. It's because of that knowledge that I at times wondered if I should even be a mother. Did I have the strength, the endurance to be a good one?

I. Don't. Know.

I love him with every fiber of my being. I look at him, and my heart melts. But the last few weeks have been so hard. I have never felt more alone in my life. If I mention something to someone about how I'm feeling, I get the "Don't worry about it, everyone feels this way. It will get better."

When? When will it get better? He cries. A lot. He wakes up and cries. He eats and cries. He even cries in his sleep. I am thoroughly convinced he looks up and sees me and cries even harder because of it.

I feel so guilty. Guilty for having my body shut down and deprive him in utero. Guilty for being so sick those first couple weeks. So guilty for not being able to breastfeed. I keep wondering that if I had tried a little harder, insisted more with him and everyone else , that maybe things would be different. Yeah, some of this guilt may be irrational - I've essentially heard that from everyone, especially Jay.

"All babies go through this." "Just give it time."

What if he never smiles?

I hate myself right now. I hate cringing every time he cries and I can't help him calm down. I hate that I don't want to take pictures of him because I can never get him to sit by himself long enough without crying.

I hate that my husband thinks I am overreacting. I hate that he's sick of me crying. I hate that I am disappointing him by not being stronger and not letting things like this bother me.

And I hate that I am so jealous of all those women that do not have to go through this. They have perfect little babies who have no problems breastfeeding and are already smiling every time they look at someone. Ian is 7 weeks old, and spends most of his time eating, sleeping, and crying.

But I will go on. I have to, right? My son needs me. I need him to need me. So desperately do I need that right now.