Keep Feeling Fascination

In my head I want to limit the amount of baby gadgets we buy. It's easy to get caught up in all the different toys and whatnot. Then I stick him in the exersaucer and watch the fascination in his eyes. So now I'm a sucker. I'm going to have to start searching Craig's List and eBay for future purchases. Or as an alternative, avoid reading baby magazines or going to the homes of other babies. That way I won't know what we're missing.

Who's Your Tiger?

I would think it goes without saying that Solomon's Tiger is Pudge, if for no other reason than they could share the nickname. But Paws is easier to get in a photo. At the risk of stating the obvious, we took Solomon to Comerica Park for his first major league game. A 1:05 game fits perfectly into our schedule. The day called for scattered thunderstorms, but somehow it was 80 and sunny at the game, with a cool breeze. We sat in the shade to avoid giving Solomon skin cancer, although I slathered him in 45 SPF before we left. Plus he's go the hat, right? The Boy was digging the scene. He was wide-eyed way past nap time. The game flew by, although we did leave early to avoid public feeding and disastrous schedule deviance.

Purple Haze

Here is evidence of a Mommy done lost her mind. I sewed these shorts and fixed up the shirt to match. Doesn't sound nutty? I'm about to sew myself a pair of shorts to match. Look for us in public places where dork families congregate: Holidomes, Cedar Point, country craft boutiques. As you can see, tummy time is tolerated more and more. Not only can Solomon usually roll to get out of it, but he's so strong at holding up his head that he doesn't have to stare at his hands or grind his face into the floor. It's easy for me to neglect tummy time because it requires more of my attention. Now it's on my goal list to make sure it happens every day. Other things going on: Solomon is not so much sleeping as well as previously. We went to see the pediatrician about it and now have some ideas. The doctor was quite attentive, asking about our sleep goals and tailoring her advice to meet those goals, a welcome change from the family practitioner who had few answers. The bad news is that a) any changes will take about three weeks to take effect and b) if we want him to sleep all night, we have to let him cry. A lot. In the end the doctor and I agreed that waiting until he is six months old is reasonable for getting through all night. Which will still involve some crying as part of the training, my crying, likely.

Snack

Something to tide you over.

Jugador

The day after immunizations, Solomon was ready to cheer on the Argentina national team in the World Cup. They're his favorite team because it's the only jersey he has, brought to him straight from Argentina by his Auntie Voges and Uncle Solo. Daddy has a Poland jersey straight from Poland. Unfortunately, they're not still in the running so he can't sport the shirt around and be as cool as The Boy. Solomon wants to assure all readers that despite his wearing of the blue/white (#10, Riquelme) stripped jersey, his favorite footballer is still #8 on the Brasil team (Kaka).

The shots had a welcomed side effect: Solomon slept like a log. He was lethargic the next day with a slight fever, but he didn't seem very bothered by it. You can see he's not all together himself, but if I left out the unsmiley photo, you'd never know. Just for kicks, check out Solomon wearing the jersey in April. I've also learned a new lesson. Solomon gets to stay asleep when he's napping, even if it's time for Mommy to go to the neighbor's for a baby shower. Actually, that's not the whole lesson. The rest is embarrassing for Mommy. The worst part is that I woke him up to change his clothes so he'd be cute at the party. What I got instead of cute was a screaming, crying baby. Not very cute at all and definitely not a proud Mommy moment. In the end, I left him with Daddy for an hour then came home to feed him. When I took him over to the shower after he ate, Solomon was a darling star. A good nap and a meal will do wonders. Not to mention being unmolested by a Mommy looking to make pretty.

Ignorance Is Bliss

Solomon gooed and giggled the day away, unsuspecting of his upcoming trip to the doctor for his immunizations. In truth, the shots weren't nearly as bad as waiting an hour for the doctor. He's also proud to announce that he's moving up on his growth charts. At 15 pounds, 9 ounces he's is in the 60th percentile for weight (up from 50th) and his height of 25" puts him from the 26th to the 50th. Way to go, Boy.

The Future's So Bright

My apologies for falling behind in posts. We've be readjusting since our trip, plus a few things came up. I'm sure we'll be back on track soon. As far as the shades, you wouldn't believe all the safety and protective hoops Mommies are supposed to jump through these days. The baby lit says the sun is bad not only for skin but also for eyes. Solomon's head is still a tad small for these groovy specs, but we'll manage. Lucky he doesn't seem to mind wearing them.

'Nuff Said

No narrative required.

I'm Ready For My Close-up, Mr. DeMille

The current baby-care conundrum at our house is how to have Solomon sleep. He has poor control of his bonkers still, and you can see from his close-ups that leaving them unleashed at night results in self-injury. On the other hand (pun intended), Solomon needs to learn to self-soothe so we don't have to run into his room with his binky four+ times a night. However, I'm not ready to let him cry himself back to sleep yet. We've tabled the topic until we talk to The Boy's doc on Friday, at his four-month check up. Scott and I both checked in with trusted baby-rearing sources. So far the consensus seems to be that we continue to comfort Solomon and not let him cry.

Diapy free time was in the backyard today - true fresh air time. It's convenient because a) the sheet is big so when Solomon makes a pee fountain I can just move him to another section, and b) I don't have to worry about urine getting on the rug. As a bonus, The Boy really digs it. He is mesmerized by the view.

The Boy King

Natuarally, Solomon believes that the title of this post refers to himself. It's an easy mistake. There are two things that come to mind when I hear “King Tut”. The second is the poster my mom’s friend, Dorothy, brought back from the NYC Tut exhibit in the 1970’s. It decorated my room for years. The first thing I think of is Steve Martin. Sorry. Solomon and I had the good fortune to visit the Tutankhamun exhibit at the Field Museum.

The Boy was not so impressed with the show, sleeping through most of it. No strollers were permitted, so he had to travel in the carrier. It was quite crowded, reminding me again of the line in the song, “People wait in line to see the Boy King.”

I think the man working near the gift shop should wear something other than a t-shirt.

We didn’t have much time to see other parts of the museum, but we managed to get a couple good photo ops in. In the Senegal exhibit, I thought the woman and I had similar burdens. Until I noticed her Louis Vuitton luggage.

Happy Father's Day

Solomon says he has the best Daddy in the world. Daddy took Solomon out for coffee in the morning, and then they had a snuggle. Later we met more Chicago friends for brunch and some additional World Cup viewing. Daddy traveled to Wrigley Field to cheer on Detroit as they wallopped the Cubs.

Casey Jones

The train is Solomon's new favorite way to travel. Favorite, that is, only when the destination cannot be reached in a timely manner with Mommy or Daddy carrying him. The gentle rocking of the cars and the drone of the wheels on the tracks sent Solomon into a near-coma. I had to wake him to eat. Twice. Solomon's Daddy and I started the trip a tad nervous that The Boy might be noisy and irritate other passengers. Those worries were quickly allayed and we arrived at Union Station in Chicago no worse for the wear. The day ended for Solomon the best way he could imagine, snuggled with Mommy.

Saturday was a scorcher and not-so-windy. Mostly we stayed inside watching the World Cup. Solomon started out the day in his Reds outfit, cheering them on against the White Sox (the game was in Cinti). He ended up getting kaka on it early on and we blame that unfortunate accident for the Reds' loss. It's easier than acknowledging the pitching problems. It turned out to be a three-outfit day. He puked on the t-shirt in the photo. Just after lunch we managed to walk to a local community center holding a garage sale. Solomon desperately wanted the Guatemalan-style overalls (likely the genuine article from a Central American country, given the neighborhood), but he didn't want the other kids back in Michigan to make fun of him. It's not like we live in Ann Arbor.

You Say It's Your Birthday

A bit self-promoting, sure. But also a good excuse for putting up a new photo. Or two. The top one is a picnic this week at Riverside park. A lovely day with sun and a breeze. Solomon fell asleep in my arms while I watched an oriole. The second just a cheap shot from the back deck, because that counts as getting out of the house.

Nothing Comes Between Me and My Blankey

I'm all about having a blankey. I had mine into high school and would have kept it longer had I not left it at a friend's house where the friend's ma thought it was a rag and threw it away. Apparently my pediatrician thought I should be weaned of it, so when I was in early elementary, the doctor told my mom to cut it in half each week and throw half away. Needless to say I was horrified and my mom had the good sense not to follow that quack's advice.

I swear Solomon carries this blankey around. If I pick him up, the blankey comes, too, tight in his grabbers. He waves it in the air; he throws it over his face. But his favorite thing to do with the blankey is gum it to the point of dripping. Thus, the beginnings of oral exploration of his environment.

Also, a word about routine. I’m now convinced that walking Solomon to the park to watch Little League in the evenings is a precursor to a good bedtime. This will be hard to keep up. Especially after the season is over. When putting Solomon to bed tonight (after watching baseball), I had a feeling that he didn’t get enough to eat out of the milk machine. Being the irrational, obsessive worrier that I am, I warmed a bottle of stored milk and offered it to The Boy. He chugged that thing down like it was the last cup of coffee at an 12-step meeting. I wonder what this means for sleeping. Two dinners can either put me out for the count or keep me up with crazy dreams. What do you suppose a crazy baby dream is like? Mommy with a Mili head? Ceiling fan comes to life?

Our family is venturing to Chicago via Amtrak for a long weekend. I’m sorry to say that this probably means no blog postings for a few days. I promise to take lots of photos for future entries.