Camden's follow-up appointment

We had Camden's follow-up appointment this afternoon to check on his weight gain. As you might remember, the pediatrician wanted to rule out hunger as the culprit behind his multiple night wakings. She was slightly concerned that he had dropped to the 20th percentile for weight, while he held steady in the 90th percentile for height. So, she recommended that I start making my own baby food (higher calorie & tastier than the Gerber stuff) so that Camden would be more interested in solids. She was hopeful that eating more during the day would lead to better sleeping at night. I was skeptical. I had always strongly suspected that his night waking had very little to do with hunger and a whole lot to do with comfort.

At his last appointment one month ago, Camden weighed 15 lbs, 12 oz. Today, he weighed 16 lbs, 13.5 oz. I have to admit that I panicked a bit when I saw that he was "only" 16 lbs. I worried that his gain wouldn't be good enough for the pediatrician & I could only imagine what her next recommendation would be. After all, I'm already feeding him solids 3 times a day. Would she prescribe snacks & dessert too? Thankfully, after glancing at his chart, she declared his weight gain was "perfect". A gigantic weight (ha, clever) was lifted from my shoulders. Then:

"So, how's he sleeping?" she asked me.
I sighed, feeling defeated. "Exactly the same."
She looked at me and asked cautiously, "How do you feel about letting him cry?"

And, you guys, I know this is so cheesy and dramatic, but as soon as she said those words (though I knew they were coming!) I got all misty-eyed and had to fight to hold back tears. And this pediatrician, who up to this point had not been my favorite person in the world, grabbed a box of tissues and looked at me with the most sympathetic eyes ever.

The rest of the meeting was kind of predictable. She went over the "cry it out" logistics with me. She told me that Matt should be in charge, that she never recommends her breastfeeding moms to handle the CIO training. Her reasoning? My smell.

"If you go in there," she explained, "He'll smell you. To him, you smell like a giant brownie. So it would be like dangling a brownie in front of his face & telling him he can't have it." While I've never pictured myself as a giant walking brownie before, I have to say that her reasoning made sense.

She also gave me the predictable "gift" speech. You know the one: "Teaching your baby to sleep is a gift you give him." She cited her insomniac husband who needs prescription medication to sleep as proof that sleep training saves a child from a lot of future frustration. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get that it's important to know how to put yourself to sleep. But can someone please explain that to my son, who will only know that he's suddenly crying at night instead of being soothed back to sleep by his mommy? Oh, right. You can't explain that to Camden because he's 7 months old and does not understand.

As you can tell, I am still having incredibly mixed feelings about all of this. My ideal situation would be to continue co-sleeping (because Matt & I genuinely enjoy having him in bed with us) but somehow wean Camden from the all-night nursing marathons. Feeding him once or twice during the night would be a dream. I just don't know how to make this happen while he's in bed with us.

I hate that it's come to this point, but I can honestly say that I've exhausted all other avenues (that I'm aware of, anyway). The No Cry Sleep Solution? Read it cover to cover. Did not work. The Baby Whisperer's pick up/put down method? Did absolutely nothing for his night wakings. Obviously we've tried co-sleeping too. I've tried "giving it time", hoping it's just a phase, etc., etc., etc. You name it, I've tried it.

The pediatrician did leave me with one very good piece of parting advice. "Do this when you're ready," she said. "If you're not ready, it will never work."

Today, I am not ready.

Camden's 6 Month Portraits

Camden's 6 month pictures were taken by my very talented sister, Lauren.

Happy Father's Day

Dear Daddy,

I am dictating to Mommy what I'd like to say to you since my chubby fingers can't type yet. It's your first official Father's Day (even though Mommy says you two celebrated it last year too when I was baking in her belly) and I thought today would be the perfect day to let you know why I love having you as my daddy. So, I told Mommy to put down the Cap'n Crunch (doesn't she know she's too old for that stuff anyway?) and get started on my list:

Top 10 Reasons I Love My Daddy
By: Camden

10. You work hard every single day so that Mommy can stay home and take care of me.
9. When you get home from work, my face lights up the second you walk in the door. I miss you while you're gone.
8. Speaking of missing you, how cool was it that I figured out how to speed dial you the other day without Mommy's help? I just wanted to hear your voice.
7. You came up with my favorite nickname- McNooch.
6. You sing your original song "Party & Smooch" to me every day.
5. You play "Beep Beep" with me which I think is hilarious.
4. You let me wake you up in the morning by grabbing your face and you don't complain about it.
3. You hold me up in the air and play "Flying Baby" with me.
2. You order me toys from Amazon after I go to bed at night. You're always thinking about me.
1. I can tell how much you love and adore me by the way you look at me. I feel the same way about you, Daddy.

**************

Happy Father's Day to my wonderful Dad, too! We love you, Dad and "Pop"!

(Please note how ENORMOUS Camden's hands are in this photo.)

Dating Anniversary

First of all, I know it might seem odd to some that I still celebrate Matt and my dating anniversary. Also, I'm using the term "celebrate" very loosely here; I should probably say that I still acknowledge it. But June 8, 2002 was the anniversary we made a big hoopla about until we got married. That's when, I suppose, most couples scrap their dating anniversary & only celebrate the day they said "I do". Makes sense, I guess. Obviously marriage is a much bigger commitment than dating. Still, I can't imagine a year going by when I don't turn to Matt and say, "Do you know what today is?" on the 8th of June. What can I say? I have a soft spot in my heart for that date. So, today marks 8 years together & in honor of that, I thought I'd do a little recap of the beginning of Us.

A little prelude: Matt and I met in high school. We sat next to each other in AP Latin. Correction: we sat next to each other on the days that Matt actually showed up to class. I was a junior at the time and knew Matt only as the funny senior guy that skipped class a lot. When he graced the class with his presence, though, he was very entertaining. When asked to translate a Latin passage to English, he'd come up with elaborate stories that had nothing to do with the actual text. He passed time in class by either sleeping or selling Blow-Pop lollipops to the other students. Not surprisingly, Matt was voted "class clown" by the senior class that year.

Fast forward 5 years. I had just finished my junior year of college and was on a self-imposed dating and relationship strike for the summer. I remember telling my friends, "There is no way I'm dating anyone this summer, unless I meet the person I'm going to marry." It was around that time that I started getting periodic phone calls from Matt, asking me out to dinner. Now, I had seen Matt exactly once in the 5 years since he graduated from high school. So, to me, he was still the kid with the goofy grin & backwards baseball cap smiling up at me from his class clown superlative picture in the yearbook. For that reason, and because of my dating strike, I very reluctantly agreed to go to dinner with him just one time.

We had a great time at dinner. I was pleasantly surprised by the new, grown up version of Matt. But he was still just as funny. When I got up to make a run to the ladies' room, he smiled at me and said, "Take your time. I know you have to come back because I've got your keys right here." I think it was at that exact moment that I decided I liked him. Still, when he asked me to come back to his townhouse to hang out with him and his roommates after dinner, I declined. I made up some really ridiculous excuse about having to go home and bake cookies. True story.

I did end up at that townhouse a few nights later when Matt & his roomies threw a party. The date? June 8, 2002. We spent most of the night together that night and, towards the end of the night, he kissed me for the first time. I remember riding home with my friend and telling her all about that kiss. But then I quickly brushed it off and told her, "I can't date him. He has too much baggage right now." Isn't it funny how "baggage" takes on different meanings depending on your age? At that time, as a college student, I defined baggage as a too recent ex-girlfriend. I have to laugh when I look back at that statement. I was acting like he had 3 ex-wives and a dozen illegitimate children. As we neared my house, I looked at my friend and said, "Besides, I said I'm not dating anyone this summer unless it's the person I'm going to marry."

Matt and I never had "the talk"-- you know, that awkward but exciting "Do you want to be exclusive?" conversation. But after that night, we were inseparable. We dated long distance for the next year while I finished college and then we both packed up our bags and moved from Virginia to North Carolina. A year later, we were married. Five years after that, we became a family with the birth of Camden.

Sometimes, when we're laying in bed on Saturday mornings, I look over Camden's little blonde head and I see Matt smiling down at him. Never, ever would I have dreamed back in high school that the lanky teenager in the QuickSilver jeans snoring on the desk next to mine would one day become my husband and father to my child. But you know what? I am so glad he did.

Also? I kept my promise to myself that summer. I didn't date anyone other than the man I eventually married.

We have a sitter!

It's so interesting to me the way that babies master new skills seemingly overnight. One day, Camden was sitting for a max of 5 seconds before toppling one way or another; the next day, I put him in the sitting position and he just sat. And sat. And sat some more. Ever since that day, he's been a pretty darn good independent sitter. It makes life easier in a lot of ways. Now I can sit him on the family room floor, surround him with toys (and a pillow or two-- just in case) & go unload the dishwasher. And when I peak in the family room from my kitchen, I see him sitting there, reaching for toys, perfectly content. And then it hits me: time is going by so fast. Camden is no longer my little lump of baby that I rocked to sleep countless nights. He's marching down the road towards crawling, towards talking, towards walking-- towards toddlerhood. And while I am enjoying every single moment of it (truly, I am), sometimes I wish time would slow down just a little. Then I'm reminded that every day that passes is (hopefully) one day closer to having a baby that sleeps through the night, and I want to tell Camden to keep on marching right down that road.

(Yes, he is wearing a shirt that says "My mom rocks" in some of these pictures. I'm modest like that.)

Baby Feet

Today, upon my garden walk

Where fresh cement was laid

You pressed your little heels and toes

And barefoot prints were made.

I'll keep them here forever, in

This special place, apart

Just like the little footprints you

Have left upon my heart.

~Kathy Dix

The one in which I break the Golden Rule

Camden has become an amazing napper over the past couple of weeks. Yes, I do realize that now that I've written those words out for all to see, it's pretty much a sure-fire guarantee that he will return to his catnapping ways for the remainder of his infancy starting tomorrow. But this morning? I got to go back to sleep for almost 2 hours after getting up at 6:30am. It was glorious. And this afternoon, I am catching up on all of the shows I've recorded (read: I'm watching The Bachelorette) while he snoozes away. Know what's not so glorious? The fact that I'm going to have to break the Golden Rule (no, not that one-- the "never wake a sleeping baby" rule) in a few short minutes so I can get him all ready to head back to the doctor.

Camden's had some eczema for a couple of months now, mostly on his back & belly. It was clearing up pretty well until this past weekend. Now he has tiny red bumps covering almost his entire back, from his neck to just above his cute little buns. I'm not sure if it's his eczema flaring up again, or if it's something else. It doesn't seem to bother him, but I'm mostly worried about a food allergy since I've introduced him to everything under the sun over the past week (per doctor's orders). So, I want to get it checked out, just to be on the safe side.

And I'm sure this appointment will include a weigh-in. Is it weird that I'm a little nervous about it? I feel like I want to stop at Chick-Fil-A on the way there & get him a milkshake. I'm only half kidding. Who knows what this doctor will prescribe next if she isn't happy with his weight today. She'll probably tell me to forego the food processor & just hand him a Big Mac.

Time to wake the little man & head out!

ETA: Thankfully, his rash is just a flare-up of his eczema, most likely related to the introduction of sunscreen this past weekend. And his weight? At his appointment one week ago, he weighed 15 lbs, 12 oz. Today, he weighed 16 lbs, 5 oz (with a wet diaper on, so probably a little less). Still, the doctor was pleased & did not prescribe any McDonalds' extra value meals. Yet.

Recappin' Memorial Day

It's official: Camden is a water baby. He absolutely loved the pool at my parents' house this weekend. I wasn't too surprised, considering that bath time is his favorite time of the day. Still, there's a difference between sitting in a few inches of bath water and being almost fully immersed in pool water. He was a trooper.

And, in the spirit of full disclosure, I have to admit that I nearly drowned my child this weekend. I was holding Camden in my arms when I lost my balance and slipped down one of the stairs in the shallow end of the pool. It seriously felt like a scene played in slow motion: I struggled to regain my balance while holding Camden up high above my head, praying that he wouldn't go under water with me. Thankfully, my brother-in-law was sitting close by & grabbed Camden from my outstretched arms. He told me later that he hesitated to grab Camden because he wasn't sure if I was really in trouble or if I was trying some sort of stunt. Note to Jeff: it's highly unlikely that I will try any water stunts with my 6 month old baby in my arms! All was okay in the end. Clumsy Mommy resurfaced after swallowing a couple of gallons of pool water and Camden's little blonde mohawk stayed dry thanks to Uncle Jeff.

On another note, I mentioned in my last post that one of my childhood friends was coming into town to visit us. Since Camden has himself a pretty serious case of Stranger Danger these days, I was interested to see what he'd think of a new face. The second he saw Danielle, he broke out into a huge grin. She's a natural with children and Camden could sense that. He had a great time with her. I'm not sure who misses her the most; I miss my nanny and Camden misses his honorary aunt!

Happy (belated) Memorial Day. And because sometimes it's easy to forget that this day is about more than cook-outs, sunshine, and friends, I want to make sure I say thank you to those who have served (or are currently serving) our country. I appreciate your sacrifice.

And now it's picture time!

Camden's first swim:



Drying off on Nan's lap:



With his "aunt", Danielle:



Camden & his cousin (and future partner-in-crime), Will:



Family shot: