Eight Months

Eight months. Wow.  I really wanted to try and avoid the cliche phrase of "where has all the time gone?", but really it's impossible not to say.  I have watched my little bubzy transform from this helpless little creature into a little man that every day is learning something new.  He is seizing his days, discovering and testing,  falling and standing.  Each day he gets a little braver and each day I think he can't get any more awesome and then he does. It truly is amazing the way that the days melt into the next and before you realize it your child has changed in front of your very own eyes. A little over eight months ago I was lying in a hospital bed anxiously awaiting the arrival of the little being that I had been dreaming about.  Wondering if his nose would look the way I pictured it in my head (it does, by the way) and hoping that I could be the mother that I had set out to be.  I'm constantly in awe of the way that he barrels through life.

He learned how to climb up the stairs this week.  I hovered behind him, making sure to not let him fall but wanting to let him do this on his own. I watched as he climbed up one step then the next.  When he got to the top he turned and looked down, not quite surprised that he had made it but proud of himself.  While he was climbing he didn't once look back and didn't look too far forward, but instead focused purely on the step he was on.

Each month I have meant to mark the occasion of his birthday by making a list of his accomplishments but eight months have come and gone and I haven't done it yet. So today is the day.  Here is Oliver, month eight.

Accomplishments:
~Climbed the stairs.
~Babbles.  He has said both mama and dada but I know he hasn't quite put it together what the words mean, soon I think.
~Crawling...everywhere.
~Standing alone for a few seconds at a time.
~Playing pattycake and peek-a-boo.

Likes:
~Pears.
~Sweet Potato Chunks.
~Bath time. Favorite toy in the bath? A measuring spoon.
~Feeding Lola.
~When daddy blows bubbles on his belly.
~Using mom, dad and Lola as his personal jungle gym. (Coincidentally NOT one of Lola's likes.)
~Shutting doors.
~Dumping things.
~Anything shiny, Lola's dog bowls top the list.
~Looking out windows.

Dislikes:
~Peas.
~Diaper changes.
~Getting his nose wiped by Kleenexes.

He loves life and I am so blessed to have a baby that has so many items in his "likes" column and so few in the "dislikes.

Tomorrow marks the end of yet another year.  2011 was pretty rough, we lost two grandparents and my mom. But we gained an amazing member of our family.  Here's to much more celebration than grief in 2012. Cheers!

Getting there...

First off, my apologies for the hiatus in posting.  The plague descended upon our household a week and a half ago and has not relented even after antibiotics were flowing like honey through the promise land.  It started with Oliver, or how we shall now refer to him, the petri dish. Runny nose, check. Cough, check. Whiny, clingy, stuffy hot mess. Check, check, check. Then it jumped to me and turned to full on strep throat. Let me tell you having to take care of yourself is one thing but having to care for someone else when you feel like death is a whole different level.  We are making it through though.  Oliver is almost completely recovered and I'm getting there. I'm also afraid to say that this plague like illness has also swept all inspiration from my body. I have sat down and tried to put words to screen so many times over the last week and I've gotten nothing.  You would think that this time of year inspiration would be pouring from the rafters, lights, presents, music, Oliver's first Christmas but alas, still nothing.

I might have mentioned I'm having some trouble getting into the Christmas mood this year.  I'm still not quite there yet but getting closer. Today I started baking cookies for a couple of cookie exchanges I have this week.  I didn't feel quite Christmas-y enough just mixing, rolling and baking so I decided to take it to the next level.  By next level I mean big hair, big voice, and big, ahem, eyes? Yes, the vocal stylings of Miss Dolly Parton.  It's as my sister Edie put it, if her Christmas album doesn't get you in the spirit nothing will.  So I pressed play and before I knew it I was singing "Go Tell It On the Mountain" at the top of my lungs, playing my imaginary tambourine and tapping my leg like a Tennessee hilljack.  Christmas spirit?  It has arrived.

So due to the illnesses that we have been recovering from I really don't have much else to talk about.  My house is a mess and presents need to be wrapped so I'm going to leave you with a few pictures of the cutest dang baby in the world and we'll leave it at that.  I'll be back next week with an extra cheery post that smells like candy canes and has twinkly lights hanging from it.  Fair enough?

(these were all taken with the camera on my phone so please forgive the slight blur)