We've got a crawler!

As of 20 minutes ago, someone is on the move.

Scott has been scooting and perfecting his belly roll for weeks, but apparently this afternoon, he decided that was not the most efficient way of getting from Point A to Point B.

I plunked him on the floor in his nursery, and within seconds, he pulled himself up on his hands and knees and STARTED TO CRAWL!

It was as if it just clicked in his head. And for someone who has only been utilizing this mode of transportation for a few minutes, he's pretty darn quick, as you'll see in the video below.

Unfortunately for mommy and daddy, Scott seems most motivated to take advantage of these newfound skills when he's spotted something he's not supposed to play with ... like say, cords, or an outlet. I thought he was headed for the toy I put by the swing. How foolish of me.

A belated recap of my first Mother's Day

I wanted to write a Mother's Day blog on the actual day, or in the immediate hours after it ended. After all, this was my FIRST Mother's Day, and I wanted to acknowledge it properly.

I think I put too much pressure on myself to write something both sentimental and joyful, a blog that captured all the brilliance of the day.

And so now, it's two weeks later, and I am just getting around to it.

I think maybe the reason I couldn't write a Mother's Day blog is that for me, it was just another day.

But I don't mean that in a negative way at all.

My husband did Mother's Day up BIG. We had planned a special date night the evening before - massages, a dinner out, and then he treated me to a night away at the Westin Kierland. My folks took Scott, which meant I got a blissful night's sleep, without worry or sounds from the baby monitor.

Jim also surprised me with a gorgeous sapphire (Scott's birthstone) and diamond bracelet, and I was surprised with two lovely bouquets of flowers by Jim's parents. So again, I got treated like a princess.

Scott living it up at the Westin Kierland, before we dropped him at Grandma and Grandpa's.

My first Mother's Day gift. My husband has excellent taste. 

Scott got to play with a giant ice cream cone on Mother's Day (courtesy, the doting grandparents)

When I say that for me, it was just like any other day, I mean essentially this: I spent it, like I do every other Sunday, with my husband and kid. And I wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

We took Scott to his 10:30 a.m. swimming lesson, then came home and gave him a nap. We relaxed around the house, played with Scott in the afternoon when he woke up. I read him stories, fed him dinner, and kissed his head before I put him to bed.

It was perfect.

A few days ago, I was dropping Scott off at daycare, and a bunch of the older kids (I think they were about five or six) were shouting at me through the fence. One of the little girls was upset because one of the boys in her class had taken her princess lip-gloss and thrown it in the parking lot as a joke. She and her friends asked me politely if I could please hand it back to her. So I did and they cheered. They started shouting, "We did it!" to the little boys, and I heard them say, "We got a mom to help us. We got a mom to help us."

I suddenly realized they were talking about me. I am somebody's mom. After 36 years, I am somebody's mom. I have been for eight months, and will be for countless more years and decades. And the mere fact that I get to be a part of "Mother's Day" is the best gift of all.

This little guy is the best Mother's Day gift. Period.

No rest - even for the weary

Scott has never been a good napper at daycare.
He is consistent about his beauty rest at home, sleeping well in both his swing, and now his beautifully-decked-out-in-a-fun-and-colorful-sports-themed crib, but we've had an ongoing problem getting him to shut his pretty little eyes at "school."

On a good day -- at home -- he wakes up around 6 a.m., goes back to bed at 7 a.m. and sleeps until about 8:30, and sometimes, as late as 9:15.

He takes his second nap around noon, and that lasts anywhere from 2 to 3 hours. Somedays he'll take a third nap -- a quick 30 to 45 minute snooze, around 5:30.

This schedule makes for a happy baby and, therefore, happy parents.

A well-rested Scott wakes his parents up bright and early on Saturday morning.

Then there's the other five days a week. The days he's at daycare. I don't know what the issue is, nor do I know how to solve it.

On a good day, he'll sleep for 40 minutes. TOTAL. As in from 9 a.m. until 6 p.m. Forty minutes people.
On a bad day -- like the last two days -- he won't sleep at all.

We've tried moving him to a crib in the back of the room, having his teachers put him in the daycare swing, given him a security blanket to hold while he sleeps. Nothing works. He refuses to go to sleep. It's like he's afraid he's going to miss something.

Sometimes, his daddy leaves work early, just so he can get him a late afternoon nap just before dinner.

But most days it's the end of a long workday when I pick up my little Tank. He always gives me a big smile, (which I love), but, then, without fail, he turns into a blank zombie-like blob as we walk to the car. I strap him into the carseat, and by the time I hit the freeway, he's zonked out, snoring lightly to the sound of the radio.

It takes me 20 minutes to get home, which isn't a very long nap, so I've gotten in the habit of leaving him in the car, with it running and locked in the garage (door open, of course), while I unload the diaper bag, lay out his pajamas and prep his dinner.

This typically gives him an extra 10-15 minutes of nap time - enough to get him through the rest of the evening and into bed.

Last night, he was such a mess after a no-sleep day that that tactic did me no good. I put him in his high-chair and he melted down. He was so tired, he couldn't even eat. He tried to put food in his mouth and when he missed, he'd scream and rub his eyes and lay his head on the tray.

When I got to daycare today (at 4:30, after learning we were on Day 2 of no sleep), Scott was laying on his belly, too tired to move or do much of anything. His eyes were irritated, rimmed red. But he wouldn't close them. He just laid there, with his hand outstretched through the slats of the crib, trying to play and hold hands with little Hailey.

I could insert a joke here about Scott being his father's son, and his utter determination to hang with the ladies, no matter the cost, but I am too frustrated. There has to be SOMETHING I can do to get him to sleep.

Any suggestions?

P.S. (For those wondering, Scott did pass out instantly in the car. This time, I woke him up and gave him a bottle while I rocked him. He fell asleep again and I moved him to the swing, where he has been napping peacefully for the past 45 minutes.)

Succumbing to utter exhaustion -- finally -- after going all day without a nap.

Operation: Baby Proof

So I've started noticing that the Tank has become a lot more "mobile" lately.

No more potted plant.

I can plunk him down, and 10 seconds later, he's maneuvered himself, via combination scoot, rock and belly roll,  to the china cabinet, the Bose sound system, the edge of the coffee table, or pretty much any other area I don't want him to be.

No one is watching...I am off! Ooh! Look what I found!

You keep saying that 'no' word mommy, but I am going to pretend I don't understand it. Cords are fun!

I shudder to think how fast he'll be once he actually figures out how to crawl.

For weeks I've been putting off babyproofing our home. This weekend, I finally decided I had run out of time.

So I did what is innately comfortable to me. I began to research. I quickly realized there is a crazy amount of stuff you can do to "babyproof" every inch of the house. One article even suggested I crawl around on my hands and  knees to get my son's "perspective" and try to understand what might be attractive to him.

Really? This is a kid who puts his feet in his mouth - willingly.
I don't think I want to tap into his perspective.

Anyhoo...I took myself down to Buy Buy Baby, where again, I was confronted with so much child safety equipment that I began to wonder if the manufacturers thought I wanted my son to live in a bubble, or if I intended to leave him home for days on end with no supervision save the dog. (Who I am sure would make a fine sitter, if asked.)

Ultimately, Jim and I decided to take the middle route. After my sister informed me in no uncertain terms that Scott, at eight months of age, is VERY capable of both learning and understanding the word "No," we opted for a combo approach.

We'd babyproof enough to minimize the major hazards and keep Scott out of the big temptation areas, but mostly, we'd rely on the tried and true teaching method.  I have a feeling "NO" is about to become a big part of my vocabulary.

I used it 51 times today -- see first paragraph about Scott rolling to china cabinet and the stereo system wires. (He also tried to eat the rocks in our front yard.)

Despite our best efforts, our "modest" babyproofing approach still set us back $200.

For that we got a lovely white metal swing door gate, which we are putting in the hallway to keep Scott from crawling into the dining room (which contains our wine cabinets and lots of tantalizing upside-down hanging stemware); a brown cushiony strip thing that stretches the length of our brick fireplace hearth (which we hope will keep him from bumping or scraping his little face and head on the corners); outlet covers; three large plastic things designed to contain stereo and computer cords; a strap system that will attach our ginormous flat screen TV to the wall so the Tank can't pull it over on top of himself; and a magnetic lock system for our kitchen and sink cabinets that we hope will help keep the Munchkin from playing with Comet or lobster picks.

Scott will get access to one kitchen cabinet. It's filled with tupperware, a wooden spoon, and a few measuring cups which will no doubt create lots of noise when he bangs them on the floor. (He LOVES making big loud noises.)

In the end though, there's no substitute for actually watching him like a hawk. Unless we need to step out for a minute, in which case I can always spend hundreds more dollars to "bubbleproof" the house, and leave him in Baxter's good care.

Me? Get into trouble? NEVER.

Eight months old!!!

Another month gone by. My baby doesn't seem like such a little baby anymore. He's started sleeping through the night (sort of) after mommy sleep trained herself not to go into the nursery at every little whimper.

He's fighting another cold (yes, again), but so far seems to be managing it better than the yucky viruses of the past.

Scott's got four teeth now and is picking up food, munching on puffs, green beans, coffee cake and even gouda cheese. He's still trying to figure out the whole crawling thing, and just this past weekend, his grandparents think he said his first word - "book."

It actually comes out "buh." Tank utters it frequently, but I don't think it means book or anything else to him, since he seems to associate it with food, toys, his crib and the dog.

Anyway, here are the outtakes from this month's photo shoot:

Happy Baby! This was almost the winning photo.

Hello friend.

Ooh! Distraction #427. It's Baxter!

Give me some of that Bear Love.

And the winner: Is it me, or is Scott sporting a slightly evil, definitely mischievous, kinda naughty little grin?

Scoot, Scoot...but not quite a crawl

Someone is on the move. Sort of.

Scott is developing what I can only term "a belly scoot."

He pushes himself into a semi-upright position using his hands, then kicks his legs, and -- with a great deal of effort and grunting -- inches himself to the left, the right, and sometimes even backward on his stomach.

I want that phone. I think I can, I think I can.

Got it! I am the greatest!

He has yet to learn how to go forward. He clearly hasn't learned that lesson about the shortest distance between two points being a straight line. But I know its only a matter of time -- my baby is getting ready to crawl!

Learning to crawl is exhausting.

I've been told that some little ones skip right over that part and move straight into walking. Judging by this picture, Tank may be contemplating that as well. He is, after all, brilliant. (And, I am quite sure, an overachiever.)

Why shimmy along the floor when I can just walk like the big kids?

Embracing the crib - for real!

We've had a momentous development here in the Rough household -- one I didn't think I'd EVER see.

Scott has learned to sleep in his crib. 

Now... I should clarify. Scott learned months ago that bedtime = cribtime. He's been very good about putting himself to sleep each evening and staying there until the wee hours of the morning.

But for some reason, he's been a bit learning impaired when translating that lesson over to his two or three daily napping sessions.

It usually goes something like this. Mommy or Daddy puts Scott in his crib. Scott screams. Then Scott rolls around and talks to himself. Then Scott cries. Then Scott slams both of his legs repeatedly against the crib mattress. Then Scott cries again. Then, finally, after about 30 minutes of us ignoring him, Scott finally sleeps.

All is blissfully quiet. For about 25 minutes. Then, Scott awakes. And refuses to go back to sleep.

As an adult, I don't really understand this. I would PAY for someone to force me to go to sleep two or three times a day. But I just can't seem to reason with him and make him understand how lucky he is.

Stubborn child. I think he takes after his father.

Since Scott was about two months old, the only way we could get him to take a decent nap (that's code for anything lasting an hour or longer) was to put him in his Fisher Price Ocean Wonders Swing. Dear readers of this blog might remember that this is our Holy Grail of baby items.

Put the Tank in the swing and he is guaranteed to sleep for at least an hour, and sometimes as long as three.

I wish they had one in my size.

But as much as I enjoy having a happy, well-rested baby, I've been actively trying to break him of the swing/sleep habit. This is primarily because my cherubic munchkin is now tipping the scales at 21 pounds and 6 oz. The swing has a maximum capacity of 25 pounds.

The swing says its good for babies and toddlers "up to two years." Yeah right. Somehow, I don't see us making that. I am not sure we'll make it to July 4.

So clearly, we had to make adjustments.

I'd love to take credit for it. But I don't think I did anything. For some reason, Scott simply decided that he could -- and would -- nap in his crib.

He first did it last week in the morning. I put him back to bed after an early wake-up call (on a Saturday  no less) at 6:45. He slept until 8:30. Unheard of!

I see the sleeping baby on the monitor, but I don't believe it!

It's true! Incidentally, I woke him up by taking this picture, but he'd already been sleeping for two hours, so I didn't feel too bad. Okay, I felt kinda bad.

The next day, he slept for an hour and fifteen minutes in his crib. Later that week, he took a three-hour marathon snooze at the crib in my mom's house.

Mid-way through the 3-hour marathon. Grandma is a stealth photographer. She didn't wake him up.

It's not foolproof yet - he still prefers to take his late afternoon, 30 to 45 minute power naps in the swing.

But it foolishly has given me hope that someday - hopefully SOON - he'll sleep through the night.

Silly mommy.