Houston, We Have Peas!

I think, of all of the baby milestones that Finn has on his list of to-dos, the introduction of baby food was the one I was anticipating the most. 

We are a family of food and the kitchen is our Mother Ship; it is our gathering point and our common ground.  We cook together, we plan meals together and we eat dinner together just about every night (unless someone - Uriah - has to work late).  Big discussions happen around the dinner table and smaller discussions happen over the stove.  It is small and warm and cozy in our kitchen.  It is what home is to me.

So, it only made sense that from the time Finn could sit up in his high chair, we would scoot him up to the table with us as we ate our dinner.  For awhile he was content to play with his toys and look around.  Then he started tossing his toys on the floor, looking surprised when suddenly his wooden spoon was no longer in his hand and then delighted when I'd place it back in front of him, only to repeat the process another hundred times during the course of our meal.  Recently, however, he has been reaching for the food on the table and moving his little mouth like he's chewing (super funny to watch).  It was the only sign I needed...bring on the baby food!

Uriah needed a little convincing, however, that Finn was ready for baby food.  I did some research before we started.  I wanted to make sure that Finn was going to enjoy this process and not end up a picky eater (my absolute worst nightmare, second only to breaking my nose.).  He started eating rice cereal during our Christmas vacation in Minnesota and we've been steadily increasing the consistency of it from liquid to that of oatmeal.  And then that got old and he wanted French toast.  Seriously, he would have eaten French toast last week if he had two teeth to his name. 

After some reading and some discussion (because our original plan was to wait for baby food until he had his 6 month check next week), we looked at our chunky monkey and decided to start the baby food.  Instead of starting off on the yellow vegetables (like a lot of research suggests),  we started with the greens.  Less sweet, but research also shows that some babies will like the sweeter veggies better (squash, sweet potatoes, carrots) and then it takes some convincing to get them to enjoy the greens (peas, beans, spinach).   Peas, my friends, were a huge success; and so is the sippy cup he's started using.  We've moved on to sweet potatoes, which he liked a lot, and later this week we'll try beans. 

{First taste of peas | 1.15.11}

{Sippy cup | 1.15.11}

 
He looks like such a big boy and he makes my cup run over. 

I think, of all of the baby milestones that Finn has on his list of to-dos, the introduction of baby food was the one I was anticipating the most. 

We are a family of food and the kitchen is our Mother Ship; it is our gathering point and our common ground.  We cook together, we plan meals together and we eat dinner together just about every night (unless someone - Uriah - has to work late).  Big discussions happen around the dinner table and smaller discussions happen over the stove.  It is small and warm and cozy in our kitchen.  It is what home is to me.

So, it only made sense that from the time Finn could sit up in his high chair, we would scoot him up to the table with us as we ate our dinner.  For awhile he was content to play with his toys and look around.  Then he started tossing his toys on the floor, looking surprised when suddenly his wooden spoon was no longer in his hand and then delighted when I'd place it back in front of him, only to repeat the process another hundred times during the course of our meal.  Recently, however, he has been reaching for the food on the table and moving his little mouth like he's chewing (super funny to watch).  It was the only sign I needed...bring on the baby food!

Uriah needed a little convincing, however, that Finn was ready for baby food.  I did some research before we started.  I wanted to make sure that Finn was going to enjoy this process and not end up a picky eater (my absolute worst nightmare, second only to breaking my nose.).  He started eating rice cereal during our Christmas vacation in Minnesota and we've been steadily increasing the consistency of it from liquid to that of oatmeal.  And then that got old and he wanted French toast.  Seriously, he would have eaten French toast last week if he had two teeth to his name. 

After some reading and some discussion (because our original plan was to wait for baby food until he had his 6 month check next week), we looked at our chunky monkey and decided to start the baby food.  Instead of starting off on the yellow vegetables (like a lot of research suggests),  we started with the greens.  Less sweet, but research also shows that some babies will like the sweeter veggies better (squash, sweet potatoes, carrots) and then it takes some convincing to get them to enjoy the greens (peas, beans, spinach).   Peas, my friends, were a huge success; and so is the sippy cup he's started using.  We've moved on to sweet potatoes, which he liked a lot, and later this week we'll try beans. 

{First taste of peas | 1.15.11}

{Sippy cup | 1.15.11}

 
He looks like such a big boy and he makes my cup run over. 

Happy Monday. Or is it?

Happy Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Day, friends! 

For those of you in the education or banking industry...lucky!  For the rest of us, plugging away in the world of cubicle (not that I work in a cubicle, but I have, so I can say with confidence that it's not the greatest feeling.), does it really feel like Monday to everyone else?  All I can say is, Wow.  Did you want to stay snuggled in bed this morning like I did (weather predictions of rain and ice and snow proved to be false this morning, thank God, or Uriah would have been resigned to driving me to work.  Not convenient.).  Apparently, Finn wanted some extra snooze time this morning, too.  He roused himself at about 3 this morning for approximately 20 minutes before he talked himself back to sleep.  I was not so lucky...I saw the clock say 4 before I was able to fall back asleep.  And then the little nerd had the nerve to sleep in!

Yesterday morning?
6 am wake up call.

This morning we had to wake him up at 8:00! 

How was your weekend?  Did you get lots accomplished?  I got a couple of pretty major things checked off my list (room cleaned, floors cleaned, bathroom cleaned, some laundry done.).  And I started a love affair.  Yes, that's right.  I am leaving my husband...

...for Sticky Toffee Pudding.  And really, not even the pudding, mostly just for the Sticky Toffee sauce that goes on top of it.  I am going to make gallons of this stuff and drink it with a swirly straw all day long.  Who cares about diets when you can have Sticky Toffee sauce?  If you had some, you'd be converted, too.  It has bourbon in it.  And sugar and love.  Lots and lots of love.  Did I mention that I made bourbon ice cream, too?  Now, imagine, if you will, cold Bourbon ice cream melting under the oozing warm Sticky Toffee sauce...you'd leave your husband for it.  Unless you didn't have a husband.  Then maybe you'd leave your wife or your dog or your sanity.

I can't wait to go home and bypass dinner so that I can dive headfirst into the Sticky Toffee sauce.  It will make this Monday so much happier!

Happy Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Day, friends! 

For those of you in the education or banking industry...lucky!  For the rest of us, plugging away in the world of cubicle (not that I work in a cubicle, but I have, so I can say with confidence that it's not the greatest feeling.), does it really feel like Monday to everyone else?  All I can say is, Wow.  Did you want to stay snuggled in bed this morning like I did (weather predictions of rain and ice and snow proved to be false this morning, thank God, or Uriah would have been resigned to driving me to work.  Not convenient.).  Apparently, Finn wanted some extra snooze time this morning, too.  He roused himself at about 3 this morning for approximately 20 minutes before he talked himself back to sleep.  I was not so lucky...I saw the clock say 4 before I was able to fall back asleep.  And then the little nerd had the nerve to sleep in!

Yesterday morning?
6 am wake up call.

This morning we had to wake him up at 8:00! 

How was your weekend?  Did you get lots accomplished?  I got a couple of pretty major things checked off my list (room cleaned, floors cleaned, bathroom cleaned, some laundry done.).  And I started a love affair.  Yes, that's right.  I am leaving my husband...

...for Sticky Toffee Pudding.  And really, not even the pudding, mostly just for the Sticky Toffee sauce that goes on top of it.  I am going to make gallons of this stuff and drink it with a swirly straw all day long.  Who cares about diets when you can have Sticky Toffee sauce?  If you had some, you'd be converted, too.  It has bourbon in it.  And sugar and love.  Lots and lots of love.  Did I mention that I made bourbon ice cream, too?  Now, imagine, if you will, cold Bourbon ice cream melting under the oozing warm Sticky Toffee sauce...you'd leave your husband for it.  Unless you didn't have a husband.  Then maybe you'd leave your wife or your dog or your sanity.

I can't wait to go home and bypass dinner so that I can dive headfirst into the Sticky Toffee sauce.  It will make this Monday so much happier!

Half a year, already!

 

Last night I was giving Finn a bath; he was splish-splashing his chubby baby legs and displacing lots of water.  I had my hair in a pony-tail on top of my head and I guess every time I moved my head, my pony tail would bob, which Finn found wildly hilarious.  So there we were, a couple of nerds in the bathroom, me shaking my head and Finn laughing a big, toothless belly laugh and kicking his legs as hard as he could.

One minute I was laughing right along with him and the next I was crying into the baby bathwater.

My baby, my little tiny boy (who I knew was a boy from the very, very beginning, thank you very much!) isn't actually a little tiny boy, anymore.  He's been alive for a whole half a year (or maybe more accurately: we've kept him alive for a whole half a year!).  And he's accomplished a lot, already, as evidenced here and here and here.   But six months...I really just wasn't prepared for how quickly time has gone already.  Nobody prepared me for the speed at which time is flying.

• We didn't drop him. 
• We didn't smoosh him (well, maybe we've smooshed him with hugs and kisses!). 
• He's gaining weight like a champ (18 lbs!).
• We managed to take him from formula to rice cereal...and he makes chewing movements with his mouth when we eat.  Next up - veggies!
• He doesn't have any teeth through yet, but they are coming. 
• He can almost sit up on his own.  He's really close and he can do it in the tub.
• When we lay him on his back, he immediately flips over onto his tummy (but he can't get from his tummy to his back.).
• He found his voice...his screaming voice, that is.  And it's not when he's angry (he almost never is, unless we have to suck snot out of his nose) he just likes to hear himself scream.
• He laughs.  A really big baby belly laugh.
• He has duck fuzz hair - and it's turning blond!
• He's on the verge of saying "Mama" (seriously.).

I know that I will probably cry at all of his milestones.  I know that in 6 months I will lament how fast a year has gone...and then six years....and then a decade...and then his college graduation....I am his mama.  That is my job.

 

Last night I was giving Finn a bath; he was splish-splashing his chubby baby legs and displacing lots of water.  I had my hair in a pony-tail on top of my head and I guess every time I moved my head, my pony tail would bob, which Finn found wildly hilarious.  So there we were, a couple of nerds in the bathroom, me shaking my head and Finn laughing a big, toothless belly laugh and kicking his legs as hard as he could.

One minute I was laughing right along with him and the next I was crying into the baby bathwater.

My baby, my little tiny boy (who I knew was a boy from the very, very beginning, thank you very much!) isn't actually a little tiny boy, anymore.  He's been alive for a whole half a year (or maybe more accurately: we've kept him alive for a whole half a year!).  And he's accomplished a lot, already, as evidenced here and here and here.   But six months...I really just wasn't prepared for how quickly time has gone already.  Nobody prepared me for the speed at which time is flying.

• We didn't drop him. 
• We didn't smoosh him (well, maybe we've smooshed him with hugs and kisses!). 
• He's gaining weight like a champ (18 lbs!).
• We managed to take him from formula to rice cereal...and he makes chewing movements with his mouth when we eat.  Next up - veggies!
• He doesn't have any teeth through yet, but they are coming. 
• He can almost sit up on his own.  He's really close and he can do it in the tub.
• When we lay him on his back, he immediately flips over onto his tummy (but he can't get from his tummy to his back.).
• He found his voice...his screaming voice, that is.  And it's not when he's angry (he almost never is, unless we have to suck snot out of his nose) he just likes to hear himself scream.
• He laughs.  A really big baby belly laugh.
• He has duck fuzz hair - and it's turning blond!
• He's on the verge of saying "Mama" (seriously.).

I know that I will probably cry at all of his milestones.  I know that in 6 months I will lament how fast a year has gone...and then six years....and then a decade...and then his college graduation....I am his mama.  That is my job.

Jack Frost

{Jack from the inside out | 1.11.11}

We've now had 5 days of true winter, and...well...is it spring yet?

I used to love the snow and I used to love the winter.  The crunch under my boots.  The smell of the cold stuck to my clothes even after I come inside.  Little snowflakes on my eye lashes.  The soft swish of falling flakes.

That was Before Finn (or, BF, if you will).  BF, I didn't have to worry too much about the outside temperature; I could go to the grocery store any old time.  BF, I didn't have to worry about parking spaces because I wasn't toting around 18+ pounds of baby and carseat and diaper bag and blankets.  BF, I didn't have to worry about what kind of shoes I had on my feet...heels?  Sure!  Ballet flats?  You got it!

Now I worry that it's too cold and he won't be warm enough with his snowsuit, extra socks, mittens, a hat, a scarf and his bedtime blanket covering it all.  I see ice everywhere and have even gone so far so to contemplate getting shoes with little icepicks on the bottom.  Have you seen them?  Not cute.

Except, it's not really as bad as I thought.  I now have an excuse to snuggle up in my comfy pants and sip hot cocoa and play on the floor with the baby (who also loves wearing comfy pants, by the way!).  I have been using up what we have in our freezer and our cupboards because it's just too much work to go out to the stores (and, in an effort to simplify, it's also financially sound.).  I have learned to love the snow from the inside out.

Happy Thursday, my friends!  Catch a snowflake on your tongue for me while you're outside, and in return, I will kiss the baby's cheeks for you when we're inside.

{Jack from the inside out | 1.11.11}

We've now had 5 days of true winter, and...well...is it spring yet?

I used to love the snow and I used to love the winter.  The crunch under my boots.  The smell of the cold stuck to my clothes even after I come inside.  Little snowflakes on my eye lashes.  The soft swish of falling flakes.

That was Before Finn (or, BF, if you will).  BF, I didn't have to worry too much about the outside temperature; I could go to the grocery store any old time.  BF, I didn't have to worry about parking spaces because I wasn't toting around 18+ pounds of baby and carseat and diaper bag and blankets.  BF, I didn't have to worry about what kind of shoes I had on my feet...heels?  Sure!  Ballet flats?  You got it!

Now I worry that it's too cold and he won't be warm enough with his snowsuit, extra socks, mittens, a hat, a scarf and his bedtime blanket covering it all.  I see ice everywhere and have even gone so far so to contemplate getting shoes with little icepicks on the bottom.  Have you seen them?  Not cute.

Except, it's not really as bad as I thought.  I now have an excuse to snuggle up in my comfy pants and sip hot cocoa and play on the floor with the baby (who also loves wearing comfy pants, by the way!).  I have been using up what we have in our freezer and our cupboards because it's just too much work to go out to the stores (and, in an effort to simplify, it's also financially sound.).  I have learned to love the snow from the inside out.

Happy Thursday, my friends!  Catch a snowflake on your tongue for me while you're outside, and in return, I will kiss the baby's cheeks for you when we're inside.

Just so you know, I'm still alive.

{Abby & Finn | 1.11.11}

Here I am!  Here I am!

I have not been sucked into a pit of molten quick-sand lava with my trusted pet pig.  I have not been shipped to the moon to collect samples of space rocks.  And I most certainly have not been a back-up dancer for Justin Bieber.

I have, however, been sick.  So sick that I did not go to work on Monday.   I take that back...I tried to go to work on Monday.  I had good intentions of getting some stuff cleaned off my desk before I retired back home to my bed and my yoga pants and my Gypsy Cold Care.  I even took a shower and packed the baby up into the car in the snow and everything.

And anyway, did I forget to mention that there was this snowstorm?  On Sunday night and Monday.  And it's the first snow that the dirty, dirty South has seen this winter and it really was too much for our 1 snowplow to handle. 

So.  Here was little 'ol me...used to driving in the snow but not used to driving in the snow and slush and overall grody-ness that the roads become this time of year.  And did I forget to mention that school was canceled?  It was.  Abby waved to us from the toasty confines of the living room.  Still in her pajamas.  Watching Good Morning America.  The tears and snot froze to my face.

So.  Here was little 'ol me and little mini-me in the car and there are only 6 miles between my house and Finn's daycare and it took me one entire hour to get there.  Where I promptly called work from the parking lot, turned around and drove back to the safety and healing powers of home (it took me less time to get home, only about 30 minutes - mostly because I saw our only snow plow ahead of me.).  I proceeded to hunker down in my yogas with my tea and allow my husband to take care of my kids while I watched the snow fall and my sinuses drain.

Yesterday was another snow day, and we filled the day with baking bread (Mama), learning to scream (Finn) and watching Harry Potter (Abby).  We went outside for about 5 minutes to enjoy the snow and a little fresh air (much to Uriah's chagrin.  Apparently, taking a 6-month old outside for less time than it takes to bundle him up is grounds for Poor Parent of the Year Award.  Winner.). 

And today?  You guessed it...another snow day for the kiddos due to the bitter cold (sub-zero temperatures, anyone?).  Finn, however, was more than happy to get to daycare today; he barely spared me a smile when I left him.  Abs is home with a list of chores and she'll have a pop-quiz on Little Women when I get home (apparently, I also have to pseudo-home school my kid to make sure she's continually challenged - another story for another time.).  Finn is playing with his pals.  And I'm back at work.

If you can't find me, just follow the sound of the coughing under the papers on my desk.  I may be here until the snow melts...

{Abby & Finn | 1.11.11}

Here I am!  Here I am!

I have not been sucked into a pit of molten quick-sand lava with my trusted pet pig.  I have not been shipped to the moon to collect samples of space rocks.  And I most certainly have not been a back-up dancer for Justin Bieber.

I have, however, been sick.  So sick that I did not go to work on Monday.   I take that back...I tried to go to work on Monday.  I had good intentions of getting some stuff cleaned off my desk before I retired back home to my bed and my yoga pants and my Gypsy Cold Care.  I even took a shower and packed the baby up into the car in the snow and everything.

And anyway, did I forget to mention that there was this snowstorm?  On Sunday night and Monday.  And it's the first snow that the dirty, dirty South has seen this winter and it really was too much for our 1 snowplow to handle. 

So.  Here was little 'ol me...used to driving in the snow but not used to driving in the snow and slush and overall grody-ness that the roads become this time of year.  And did I forget to mention that school was canceled?  It was.  Abby waved to us from the toasty confines of the living room.  Still in her pajamas.  Watching Good Morning America.  The tears and snot froze to my face.

So.  Here was little 'ol me and little mini-me in the car and there are only 6 miles between my house and Finn's daycare and it took me one entire hour to get there.  Where I promptly called work from the parking lot, turned around and drove back to the safety and healing powers of home (it took me less time to get home, only about 30 minutes - mostly because I saw our only snow plow ahead of me.).  I proceeded to hunker down in my yogas with my tea and allow my husband to take care of my kids while I watched the snow fall and my sinuses drain.

Yesterday was another snow day, and we filled the day with baking bread (Mama), learning to scream (Finn) and watching Harry Potter (Abby).  We went outside for about 5 minutes to enjoy the snow and a little fresh air (much to Uriah's chagrin.  Apparently, taking a 6-month old outside for less time than it takes to bundle him up is grounds for Poor Parent of the Year Award.  Winner.). 

And today?  You guessed it...another snow day for the kiddos due to the bitter cold (sub-zero temperatures, anyone?).  Finn, however, was more than happy to get to daycare today; he barely spared me a smile when I left him.  Abs is home with a list of chores and she'll have a pop-quiz on Little Women when I get home (apparently, I also have to pseudo-home school my kid to make sure she's continually challenged - another story for another time.).  Finn is playing with his pals.  And I'm back at work.

If you can't find me, just follow the sound of the coughing under the papers on my desk.  I may be here until the snow melts...