Today I turned eight months old. Wow! I'm getting so big.
I currently weigh 17 lbs, 11 oz and have for the last three and a half weeks.
Mom says I'm just as cute as ever... especially now that my hair has started coming back. It's getting so thick on top. Mom's favorite thing is to put it up in a mohawk after my bath.
And it will stay up without ANY Aquaphor, although it pretty much always has Aquaphor in it. I'm greasy, and I like it.
Socially and cognitively, I'm right on track. I make lots of sounds and love to talk. I think I get that from my mom. She never shuts up. Seriously Mom, I don't need to know everything. Really, some boundaries are okay. And don't think I didn't notice the other day that you kissed my bare hiney. I'm not letting that one go.
I regularly make the sounds ma, da, na, geh, and I sort of roll my r's. Mom's excited about that one. She says that will serve me well in my Spanish-speaking endeavors. Too bad it's a very slobbery skill at this point. We are going through many burp cloths around here. My favorite sound is my "machine gun" sound - eh eh eh eh eh eh. You get the idea. I make this face when I do it:
I've also learned to put my feet down when I'm lying down and arch my back up. I kind of jump up and down in that way, and I just think it's the best. Mom doesn't share that opinion when it comes to dressing change. I've just added it to my repertoire of things I do to make dressing change a little more complicated. It makes me really happy, though, so ultimately Mom thinks it's great too!
I am SO close to rolling over. See?
But then Mom will start jumping up and down and screaming, and I get distracted and roll back to my back. And I just smile and smile like I've already accomplished the goal. (And really, I have, because, little does Mom know, my only goal is to make her jump up and down and scream like a crazy person.)
Sometimes Mom helps me roll over. The OT calls this "facilitating the rolling over." I call it "Mom shoving me over on my face." Semantics.
But when I do get over on my tummy, this is typically my reaction:
When I'm in a decent mood, at least. Mom feels like it will be just a matter of days though. Because I am so close. If I could just figure out what to do with my stupid elbow.
I'm still not sitting up, but sometimes I can do it on my own for about five seconds. Then I either tip forward or fling myself back. Mom can't wait til I can sit up and support my own weight more. She says I'm getting heavy.
I'm sleeping mostly through the night (this week anyway), but Mom and Dad are still getting me up around 3:30 for a feeding. Most of the time I go right back to sleep. Sometimes I stay up for two hours. Depends on my mood. Some days I nap for two to three hours. Some days I sleep for two minutes. I like to keep The Big People on their toes. Makes life a lot more interesting.
I have a few favorite toys. I really like my dog whose ears flap up and down. Did you know he can sing? He sings "Do Your Ears Hang Low?" and I think he's really funny. I also like my soft, colorful Very Hungry Caterpillar. I like to chew on his antennas. Granny keeps calling them his antlers. She's so silly. Silly Granny, antlers are for mammals. And my Aunt Katherine just got me ALL. THREE. WONDER PETS.
I know, I know. I'm one lucky boy. What's that? You're jealous? You shouldn't be. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's Wonder Pets.
I also love another toy. The Big People call him "Deac." I don't know what a Deac is exactly, but I think he is awesome! Every time he comes near me, Mommy says, "Say, 'Hey Deac!'" And I just smile and kick my legs and try to get my hands on him. Sometimes he'll let me pet him, and he tolerates me pretty well. Notice I said "tolerates." I certainly wouldn't say he feels quite the same affection for me as I do for him.
He likes to sit at this distance.
Some new things this last month - I like to play a game Mom refers to as "respiratory distress" where I suck air in and make a scary noise. Mom comes running to realize that I'm making that noise completely on purpose and cracking myself up. (What she doesn't know is that I'm laughing at her.)
My favorite song right now is "You Are My Sunshine." That seems to change from month to month though. What can I say? I'm a man with refined tastes. I need to change it up every now and then.
Okay, I'm off to bed. Mom says I have a really important doctor's appointment tomorrow to decide about my g-tube. I ate 29 ounces today!!! True, I spit up about four of them, but still, that's so much better. The reason I ate more is because I did not nap at all, so I was really tired all day. Mom could feed me every two to three hours and I would just take a 15 to 20 minute cat nap while she fed me. And then I was all done... with both eating and sleeping.
Could you pray for me and The Big People? Mom just needs to feel what the right decisions are. She needs certain doors to open and others to close, so she'll know what to do. A new fear has clinched her heart tonight - that maybe the intubation from the g-tube surgery will lead to scarring in my trachea which will lead to a tracheostomy (now that I'm finally a silent breather with NO STRIDOR)... if not immediate, then down the road. So now, although she was feeling more content about the surgery (not the who and where of it all, but at least the getting the g-tube part), she's all upside down again in her head and heart.
It's hard being eight months old. Lots of big decisions and tough choices. Mom and Dad know I'm so strong though. They know I can overcome any obstacle and that God will get me through it. And like Dad says, I may have some physical setbacks, but EB can't do anything to my mind and heart. And Mom says they're stronger than just about anybody's. She says she couldn't love me more if her life depended on it. Her heart's about to explode, she says. Don't worry. I'll make sure she gets that checked out.