Follow-up Appointment

Today's follow-up appointment went exactly the opposite of how I thought it would go.

Side note: We had to see the same doctor today. Dr. Obsessive. Trust me, I tried to change pediatricians (within the same practice). I even scheduled an appointment with another doctor. Then I got a call on Friday from their receptionist that went something like this:

Receptionist: Umm, I see you scheduled your appointment for Camden next week with Dr. Not-Obsessive. But you normally see Dr. Obsessive. Is this a mistake?

Me: No. Not a mistake. My sister sees Dr. Not-Obsessive & recommended him to me. I thought I'd give him a try.

Receptionist: Well... we don't really like to do that. Because, you know, this is a follow-up appointment. Maybe you could see Dr. Obsessive for the follow-up and then next time Camden has another appointment, like a well-baby check, you can see Dr. Not-Obsessive?

If I had an ounce of assertiveness in my personality, I'm sure I would've demanded to see Dr. Not-Obsessive anyway (I really need to pick out new names for these doctors that aren't quite so lengthy). But because I'm an over-the-top people pleaser, I agreed. Reluctantly.

So, this afternoon, with knots in my stomach (and Matt & Camden by my side), I waited for Dr. O. I felt ready. I was bracing myself for all possible scenarios. I had prepared my objections, all the while reminding myself not to be defensive. Then she walked in the door. Game on.

First thing she asked me? If I was worried about Camden's development. She put the ball in my court. Clever. And a good strategy for dealing with People Like Me (read: Crazy Worriers).

I was honest. I told her I was worried about his lack of babbling. She asked me what he can say. I told her "doh", "dah", "geeee", and a few other incredibly adorable but one syllable sounds.

"But," I added, "He understands everything. He knows his name & turns when it's called. He knows lots of other words too," I said while listing those words off to her. I also mentioned the things he imitates (head shaking being his favorite). And, of course, I had to brag about his advanced physical abilities.

And then I wanted to curl up in a ball while I waited for her response.

"This all sounds good," she said.

SAY WHAAAAA?!!

Not exactly what I was expecting from Dr. O. But she continued: "His receptive language sounds really good & normal. And as long as he is saying some things, then that's okay."

I think the entire office heard my sigh of relief.

Know what else she said? That I can stop saying "mamama" and "dadada" to him 500 times a day. "You're probably annoying him" were her exact words. I decided to look past the fact that she called me annoying because I was so thankful that I can stop babbling like a lunatic every day.

Yes, we talked about his weight too. I pointed to my very tall, very thin husband & told her that I think Camden is built exactly like him. I think we're just going to have to agree to disagree on that point (she says genetics don't really take over in the weight department until after age 2. I realize I didn't go to med school but still...I find it pretty darn convincing that genetics might play a small part since Camden's body is a miniature version of his Daddy's). And she told me the same old stuff: feed him more table foods. Add lots of butter & sour cream. And I will. He gained a decent amount over the past 2 weeks, which I'm going to credit to the cake & cupcakes pictured in my last post.

I liked being pleasantly surprised by a doctor's visit for once. It was a nice change.

Side note: Camden was not pleasantly surprised by this visit. He screamed his head off the second Dr. O walked in the door & did not stop until we left the building. Holy stranger anxiety.

Weekend Fun

We put aside all of our weight & language worries to have a fun-filled, action packed weekend. Camden's cousin, Alex, turned 3 and had a baseball themed birthday party to celebrate. Camden had a blast. He really thrives being around other kids; he's certainly not the "only child" type! He also had his first taste of cake and cupcakes this weekend. The verdict? He definitely has a sweet tooth like his momma.

Oh, and the balloons? The balloons were fascinating. They provided hours of fun and entertainment. Doesn't take much to amuse a 9 month old!



After a fun and exhausting day on Saturday, we headed out to Nan and Pop's house for a pool party and cook-out. While we were there, Camden mastered a new skill. No, not babbling. But an impressive one nonetheless:




That's right! He can now walk with the assistance of a push toy. My back is thankful for this new development.

I'm so proud of my guy.

Photo credit goes to Aunt Lauren & Tricia.

Wild Thing

I spend the vast majority of my days chasing around a 2 and a half foot blonde boy. The only time he stops moving? When he's napping. Even when he's eating, he's twisting and turning in his seat trying to see the TV or the dog or the cat or that toy that's across the room.

This (below) occured while I had my back turned for 2 seconds when I was unloading the dishwasher. I guess he was trying to help?

And the Naked Bandit escaped during a diaper change and proceeded to make a break for the stairs.

In other news, Camden said "da" today. Not "dadada", just simply "da". He said it a few times. I clapped and squealed like a moron each time & he looked at me like what's the big deal, woman? It doesn't take much to make a mom proud. I know it's still not where those annoying books say he should be at 9 months, but whatever. It's a consonant. I'm allowed to be proud.

Remember me?

No, I was not committed to an asylum due to the intense sleep deprivation caused by the Sleep Lady Shuffle. I'm at home, free of a straight jacket (for now), but feeling so incredibly in over my head. School started this week and I think I've forgotten how to be a student. It's been years since I've taken any classes at all and online classes are in a league of their own. Since you lack the class time, the workload feels nearly doubled. If you glanced at my syllabus, it might read something like this:

Week of August 16: Read Chapters 1-9000. Then write 6 essays about why you want to be a teacher. Then take 24 practice tests online.

And that is only a slight exaggeration.

When I'm not drowning in school work, I'm chasing around a wee little blonde man. You guys, I can't believe how much Camden has grown and changed in the past week. He's now pulling up to stand constantly; it's his new favorite activity. Climbing is also a popular pastime at our house. He climbs up into chairs and has also mastered climbing up the first few stairs (with Mommy or Daddy as a spotter of course). I'm envious of his seemingly endless energy.

Caught in the act:

Rockin' the faux-hawk (and yelling "Ahhhhh") in front of his new Fisher Price house (Side note: This toy is the bomb diggity. You must buy one ASAP):


Hi. I'm ridiculously good looking.


And now it's time for me to fade into obscurity again. Hopefully I'll figure out how to balance this whole mommy/student thing soon.

Day 5 is my nemesis

I hate Day 5 of sleep training. Remember a few months ago when I was trying the Baby Whisperer's pick up/put down method? Well, I didn't post about this back then but Day 5 was when I cracked. In the wee hours of the night on the fifth day of pick up/put down, I crawled into Camden's crib with him. Yep, you read that correctly. I just COULD NOT TAKE IT ANYMORE. Camden was startled at first but then went to sleep snuggled next to me. Oh, sweet victory! Except, wait. What was I supposed to do next? Start sleeping in his crib every night? Sleep training FAIL.

And that, my friends, is why I hate Day 5. I start off the sleep training process the way I imagine other people might start a new diet or an exercise regimen. I'm pumped! I'm motivated! Change is on the way! And then slowly I start to lose steam as the days pass. Sleep deprivation will do that to you. There's a reason it's been used as a form of torture.

So yesterday was Day 5 of The Shuffle. I was running on maybe 2 hours of sleep. Camden was cranky. I was an emotional disaster. At one point, I was literally up to my elbows in poop*. Matt was working mandatory overtime. Overall, it was the perfect recipe for waving the white flag of sleep training surrender.

But, you guys, I didn't. I pushed through. I got a little pep talk from Matt when he got home, took a deep breath, & continued to perfect my rendition of the Itsy Bitsy Spider (seriously, I need some new material). And you know what? Camden had a decent night.

*I picked Camden up from his Jumperoo & started to walk into the kitchen before I noticed my entire forearm was covered in poop. What is it about the Jumperoo that causes poop explosions?! That device is like a laxative for him.

Sleep Lady Shuffling

So what prompted my sudden desire to sleep train again? Well, besides knowing that I was just delaying the inevitable, Camden also had some interesting changes to his sleep pattern over the past couple of weeks. As you all know, he normally treats nursing as an all night marathon event, waking every hour or two to have a quick drink before promptly passing out again. Was this ideal? Of course not. Was I used to it? Absolutely.

Then one night when he woke up to nurse, he decided that going back to sleep wasn't on his agenda. He sat up in our bed, talked to the fan, pulled on his daddy's ears, crawled around, grabbed my nose, laughed, squealed-- you name it, he did it. Except for sleep. This went on for a couple of hours. I went through the usual Maybe he's teething or Maybe he's about to hit a milestone excuses. And then a thought dawned on me: maybe he's just playing.

I knew it was time to set some boundaries or I was running the risk of 1-4am becoming routine playtime in our bed. I knew this also meant that a move to the crib was probably necessary but I dreaded it. Quite honestly, it wasn't just the thought of Camden's inevitable tears that bothered me. I enjoy co-sleeping. I love rolling over in the middle of the night & seeing the steady rise and fall of Camden's chest. There's just something so peaceful about a sleeping baby. And so I dreaded the loss of that special time with him.

But I decided to suck it up & put on my big girl panties when the Sleep Lady Shuffle was recommended to me. I felt the method was practical but also more gentle than some of the traditional sleep training tactics. Currently, we're on night 4 of the Shuffle. And you know what? It sucks. Big time. Seeing that little tear streaked face staring out at me from between the crib rails? It takes all of the willpower I can muster not to scoop him up, bring him to bed with me, and call the whole thing off. But instead, I stay at my post by his crib side & alternate between rubbing his back & singing the Itsy Bitsy Spider over and over again.

We've already made some progress but I'm really attempting to go into this process with no expectations. Because I'm using a more gentle method of sleep training, I knew change would be slow and gradual. I'm okay with that. I've also made the choice to still feed Camden once or twice a night if he wakes. I felt that cutting out all of his night feedings cold turkey would be a bit harsh since he's accustomed to snacking all night long. Baby steps, you know?

Stay tuned for more Adventures in Sleep Training. It's not my favorite part of this whole parenting thing by any means, but I suppose it comes with the territory. I'm sure when I'm tackling teenager drama years down the road I'll look back longingly on the simplicity of my sleep training days.

Odds & Ends

I don't really have anything to say that will fit neatly into one category; hence, the title of this post.

First of all, I hope I haven't bitten off more than I can chew, but I finally submitted my paperwork to be readmitted into the licensure-only program at a local college (I already have a BS degree, so this program was ideal for me). Five years ago, I took a few classes to work towards receiving my state teaching licensure but then just kind of let school fall by the wayside when I got busy with, well, life (read: trying to balance a full-time job with baseline ultrasounds, injectable medications, timed sex, and pretty much obsessing over all things pregnancy). Now that I'm a stay-at-home mom, I figured taking a couple of classes here and there would be a good idea. My dream scenario would be to ultimately end up teaching at the elementary school in our neighborhood, where Camden will one day be a student. Remind me of that goal when I'm trying to read a textbook while Camden is crawling up my legs or when I'm frantically cramming for a test while shoveling a spoonful of sweet potatoes in his mouth, okay? Gotta keep the big picture in mind to stay motivated.

And now, my least favorite subject. I hate to even bring up the S word. Sleep is not a popular topic in my house, nor is it a popular way for Camden to spend his time. Even worse than discussing sleep in general, for me, is to talk about the dreaded sleep training. You may remember that my pediatrician recommended that I consider "cry it out" sleep training with Camden back in June, but told me not to start until I was ready. I wasn't ready then. I bet you're expecting me to say that I am ready now. Wrong. The truth is, I don't think I'll ever be ready for cry it out sleep training because it's just not the right fit for my parenting style. I also don't think it's the right match for my child's spirited temperament. But as Camden gets older & increasingly more mobile, co-sleeping is not only becoming more disruptive but it's also becoming less safe. And so my new goal is to have Camden sleeping in his crib (through the night would be a huge bonus!) by the time he's a year old. That gives me 3 months and some change to work with. I have an idea in mind-- a method that I feel good about was recently recommended to me-- and I'll share more about that particular plan as I start to move forward with it.

So, that's where I'm at: starting school & sleep training (again). I have a feeling life's gonna get mighty interesting around here very soon. Hold me.

It's a whole different ballgame, folks.

When people used to ask me if Camden was crawling and I'd say that he was not quite there yet, I'd often get a response along these lines: "Well, enjoy your last few weeks of peace" or "Pretty soon, he'll be into everything!" And I'd do the polite smile thing while inside I'd be thinking How different can it really be? Surely I can walk faster than he'll be able to crawl.

Well, let me tell you: it is different. Very different. Over the last few weeks, it's like I swapped out my cuddly infant for a busy toddler. And that slow and cautious crawl I mentioned a while back when he was first learning? Ha! This kid threw caution to the wind. There is nothing slow about his crawl anymore. It's a bit robotic and mechanical looking but it is F-A-S-T.

I figured now that he's crawling, I'd sit out a bunch of different toys for him and he could crawl from one means of entertainment to the next, playing independently. I know all of you veteran moms are probably smirking right now. Not exactly how it works, huh? I learned that quickly enough. Crawling means freedom. And freedom means getting into things that were previously off-limits. Why would he be interested in toys? I gave those to him when he was just a wee immobile baby. What I didn't used to give to him are now the objects of his intense fascination. The laptop. Cords. Maggie's food and water bowl. Maggie's tail. The DVD player. My legs! No matter where I am or what I'm doing, this child will find me and attempt to climb me.

This mommy to a crawler thing? It's exhausting. This kid is lucky he's so darn adorable. It's hard to get frustrated with someone so cute, even while pulling their hands out of the dog food bowl for the 800th time in a day.