Big Heads and Big Surprises

J.R. had his 15 month doctor's appointment on September 22nd. He weighed a whole 26 pounds, which we knew, because one of J.R.'s favorite things to do is join me when I use the bathroom and pull out the bathroom scale and stand on it. So we'd been able to track his weight pretty well. He is a very tall child still, in the 95th percentile for his age, I think he was about 30-31 inches or so... I don't remember exactly. His weight is catching up, finally. But his doctor was worried about his head circumference. She said that it was still over the curve, in around the 105th to 110th percentile for his age. She said that if his body hadn't caught up to his head by the time he came in for his 18 month visit, she was going to refer us to a pediatric neurologist. It actually kinda threw me for a loop, because other than his lack of teeth and talking, he's pretty much right on track developmentally. But we'll see. I think he may be catching up, considering how fast he's growing now, into a third pair of shoes since his first birthday, and his 18 month clothes are fitting him well, some already too small. Hopefully, we won't have to put the poor kid through more tests.



I had a test done that day myself. I was late by over a week on my period, and I'd been super stressed. I figured that it was because of all the family stuff going on that was incredibly stressful. I thought that's also why I missed my period. But I figured I should at least have the test, so I would know for sure. So while I was already at the doctor's office with J.R., I asked if his doc would order me a blood test. I had an appointment with another doctor, but it wasn't for almost another month. She agreed to order it for me, and I went to the lab after we were done with J.R.'s checkup and shots. The lab tech told me that it would take about 24 hours for the results to come in. So I called the next afternoon. It was positive... I was PREGNANT!!! I'd had my suspicions already, so I'd mentally prepared myself. I'd mentioned the possibility to Bryan, so he at least had a heads up, and I wouldn't just come out of the blue with the news. He wouldn't have liked that. He still wasn't happy when I told him the news, but at least it wasn't a total shock.

It took us both some time to get used to the idea that we had another baby on the way. I was wavering between excited and terrified. I had a hard enough time handling J.R., how in the world was I going to handle him in the throes of terrible twos with a newborn baby to tend to as well? Bryan was worried about being able to afford another child, but I reminded him that newborns don't cost a whole lot, the biggest cost is diapers when I breastfeed. If it's a boy, we won't even need to buy clothes, since all of J.R.'s will be season appropriate when this baby grows into them. So once I assuaged that worry of his, he began to wonder if I could handle two kids, knowing how frustrated I get with J.R.. I couldn't do much about that one, except to tell him the same things I'd been telling myself: If God brings you to it, He'll bring you through it; I'll do it because I have to, and learn to cope. That didn't help much, at least not for him.

So we definitely got quite the surprise in the form of a positive pregnancy test. Here we go again!

Six Months of Updates... Whew!

Well, it's been six months since I've updated here... and my goodness has so much happened. J.R. turned one, of course, and that was wonderful. Both my parents came to the party, all four of Bryan's parents and step-parents were there, as well as his brother and stepsiblings. Bryan's grandparents were also there. It was a pretty big turnout, but J.R. could have cared less. He was very interested in Bryan's neice Esther, who is two months older than he is. They swapped sippy cups and pacifiers. J.R. wasn't using a pacifier at this point, he quit taking one at about ten months old, but he would take Essie's and pop it in his mouth. Other than that, he didn't care what was going on. He didn't even really care about any of his gifts. He sure liked his cupcake, though! We served cupcakes instead of cake, because it was easier to leave frosting off a few of them than to not frost portions of a cake. My mom is diabetic, and frosting has tons more sugar than cake. It was also easier to clean up the babies if they didn't have frosting on their cupcakes. Bryan took video of the whole party, while the grandparents (my mom and Bryan's mom and stepmom) took pictures. I have yet to see those pictures, but oh well. I haven't even looked at the video. I should see if I can get it uploaded to Google, so I can post it here.

Some of J.R.'s first steps!

A week before his birthday (on MY birthday), we discovered that his first tooth had pushed through. I hadn't even realized he was teething. The only thing he'd been doing differently was not sleeping very well. His second tooth took three more months to come in, and his third came in right after the second. He now has four teeth. I can't tell if he's teething any more or not. He's had bouts of not sleeping off and on for a while, so there's no way to know unless and until I see more teeth in there.

<--- Such a handsome boy!

As far as his other accomplishments, he's not just walking anymore, he's running, and he's FAST. He signs "please" and "thank you," though his favorite signs are food related, "drink," "eat," and "more." He says a few words, but most of them start with "D." Daddy, dog, duck, diaper, and even baby and bye-bye are said with "D" sounds. He will say Mama, milk, mess, and mouse. His other words are animals, horsey, lion, and he identifies most animals by the sound they make. He gobbles like a turkey, meows like a cat, says "hop hop" for bunny, and so forth. He can point to pretty much every facial feature, though he gets eye and ear mixed up a lot. If you ask him to point to his nose, he will, and then he will go to squeeze his parent's nose, whichever parent is closest. He's gotten very good at reaching our eyes underneath our glasses.

J.R. is now completely weaned from breastfeeding. After his doctor's appointment after his birthday, we started substituting warmed whole cow's milk for a nursing. I started by reducing the number of times he nursed to half. For instance, I was nursing him about every two hours. So I went to nursing him every four hours for two weeks. Then I moved to nursing him every eight hours for two weeks. That translated to nursing him at naptime and at bedtime. That got to be a very bad habit for both of us. He would nurse himself to sleep, which was nice and comforting for him, and so incredibly easy for me. I was finally able to get him to give up nursing at naptime, but he DID NOT want to give up the bedtime nursing. Then came our anniversary. We wanted to go out to a movie, so we left J.R. with Bryan's mom. She said that he took his warm cup of milk with no issues and had no trouble falling asleep when she rocked him, and he slept just fine that night. I just used that opportunity to quit nursing him altogether. The next week was a bit difficult, because he would ask to nurse, and I would tell him no, and he'd cry. But I was still rocking him and singing to him, so that was enough after a while. But I was incredibly proud of myself for breastfeeding him for 14 whole months!

Of course, with age comes independence. He refuses to be spoonfed, no matter how tempting the food on the spoon. He likes to "help" empty the dishwasher, at which he's gotten pretty good. He even empties out the dirty dishes... We have to fill the dishwasher when he's napping or in bed for the night. He has very strong ideas about how he likes things, and lately, when he doesn't get his way, he makes this high-pitched scream that rattles my eardrums and sets my nerves on edge. Bryan absolutely hates it when he does that, and I don't blame him. I have learned I have to tune him out a lot, but Bryan hasn't learned that art quite yet. We've resorted to the time-out in the playpen for screaming, and for other infractions. I've learned that the threat of time-out is enough to get him to do (or stop doing) what I've told him to, at least most of the time. As long as he's "helping" me, he will pick up his toys and things he drops on the floor. If I have him by the hand and he doesn't want to go where I'm taking him, or just doesn't want to hold my hand anymore, he will just plop himself on the floor. Of course, that doesn't make me let go, and it's not so bad to handle, because he doesn't start screaming and thrashing around on the floor. He just sits there. After a few seconds, he realizes I'm not letting go of him, and I'll help him back to his feet. Sometimes, he'll repeat the process three steps later, but, sigh, eventually, he'll figure it out.

<---- Ahhh, peace...

I've had it pretty rough with him the past few months, with this temper of his and the independent streak rearing its head. We have very few things in this house that are off-limits to him, but there for a while, I felt like all I was doing all day long was telling him no and pulling him away from stuff that he wasn't supposed to touch. He would just look at me and keep doing what he was doing while I told him no, stop, don't touch, not for you... etc. I had to actually get up and walk toward him to get him to stop. However, when Bryan was home, all Bryan had to do was look at J.R. and he'd stop what he was doing. It got really annoying. I even resorted to swatting on the butt and/or smacking his hand to try to get him to stop messing with off-limits items. It got to a point where I even had to call Bryan one day to come home from work, because I couldn't take it anymore. He had ripped pages out of one of my books, had seemingly broken our Xbox console, and wouldn't leave the buttons on the TV alone. Bryan was able to talk me down, let me vent, and I felt better, but it was still rough. I ended up in tears a lot the past few months, from frustration and a sense of helplessness. I knew that eventually he would get the idea to leave that stuff alone, eventually he'd get over his curiosity about those things, but for me, eventually was a very elusive thing, too far away for me to think that I'd still have my sanity when it arrived. I was on the phone to Bryan a lot those weeks, just venting. I also got active on BabyCenter again, just looking for help, and to know that I'm not alone in dealing with a difficult child. It helped a lot to read posts from other moms going through the same thing, to hear their stories that paralleled my own. Bryan and I had a lot of stressful things going on in August and September, family crises and medical issues, and it was easier for me to go to BabyCenter and vent than to add to the stress that Bryan was already under. But even with that, the stress got to be too much for me. I was getting way too frustrated with J.R., and I could not find a strategy that worked for the whole family on how to handle him. I finally told Bryan that I thought it was me, that I thought my depression had finally kicked into high gear, and that's why I was so stressed out. I made an appointment with a doctor to talk about going back on anti-depressants and getting back on birth control. More about that in the next post. Time for PICTURES!!!

OH, he's FINALLY in clothes correct for his age! He was still wearing a lot of 6-9 month clothes when he turned one, and he got quite a few 12 month clothes at his birthday. He's now outgrown those clothes, at 16 months old, and is too big for some of his 18 month stuff! also in his third pair of shoes since his birthday as well, though they aren't quite as big as his Daddy's shoes, which he's wearing in the above right picture, hee hee.

Anyway, on to the next post, J.R.'s last doctor's appointment.