9 Months

Having a walking infant is insane. He's walking... walking... I just can't get over it. 9 months and walking. It's quite cute to watch him. He walks with his hands up in the air and his chest puffed out; he looks like a gorilla. Despite my attempts to get him to make gorilla sounds when he walks he just looks at me and smiles. It's like he's laughing at me and saying "silly mommy!".

Walking = exhaustion.

8 months

My little monkey is moving so fast sometimes I feel like he is just a blur in my vision as he cruises by. He's pulling up on anything that will support him and moves along the furniture like a pro. He's even begun to move from the couch to the ottoman and back again. He's super proud of himself for this.

He cracks me up because every time he pulls up he grins with such satisfaction that you can't help but smile in return and praise him for his valiant efforts. He continues to be a happy child; something I don't think he'll ever grow out of. He loves charming and smiling at everyone who's willing to look at him. Even when he hits beyond the point of exhaustion he'll pull out one of his heart melting smiles for who ever is standing in line behind us at the grocery store.

He's quite the dare devil; absolutely loving it when Brandon or Pop throw him up in the air, hang him upside down, or bounce him around on the bed or couch. It warms my heart to know my little monkey will one day get on the Vortex, if it's still around, with me at Kings Island. His laughter is contagious and Brandon and I both are truly blessed when it comes to Andrew.

Him and Tiko are still buddies; although, Tiko is struggling with the concept that Andrew is higher on the totem pole and pecking order in our family. It's gotten to the point that any time Tiko gets fed the monkey gets to play in and with the dog food first. Not exactly the way I would want to teach Tiko but I will admit it has been exceedingly effective in making my point. We'll be bringing the treats back out this week to reinforce the behavior we're looking for. That task alone has been exhausting...for everyone.

As the monkey continues to explore his surroundings we've seen that he is a quick learner. He knows what "No" means and is already testing those boundaries. I've known from the beginning that he would be a strong willed child and his pushing only confirms that thought.

Although he may look like his daddy, his social extrovertness and talkative nature he gets from his mommy! His current vocabulary is limited but he does enjoy saying those few words OVER and OVER changing his intonation and volume. He loves to tell stories or just sit in his car seat and chatter. We laugh now but I'm sure once the garble becomes real words we'll long for the days of his coos and silence.

For now we simply enjoy every smile and moment we get. :)

Cemetery Tour

There have been many occasions where family and friends have teased me about my love of organization and over preparedness. I prepare for the worst and always feel ready for anything. In this story there were no jokes or teasing because Brandon was thankful I was ready for it. :)

Although we had seen my parents only a few weeks prior it had been about a month since we had seen my sisters, nephew, and niece. Brandon and I both were feeling in need of some Kyndahl, our nephew, laughs and made plans to make a visit to Cinci. As usual, I packed everyone’s stuff and readied what was to be put in the trunk and what went in the back seat. We made sure to load up and leave around the monkey’s nap time. We headed out in high spirits. I started out in the back seat with the monkey and the dog so that I could administer the bottle that would knock the monkey OUT!

15 minutes down the road and the monkey is wailing. Bottle fail, Monkey 1-Mommy 0. I climb in the front seat to let him cry it out and hoping he’ll drop off to sleep. When his cry escalated I climbed back into the back seat to check out the problem. Orale Gel fail. The monkey is still crying for the hills. Monkey 2- Mommy 0. Reaching down I can feel that he needs to be changed and readied to do the deed mid drive. My plan came to a full halt when I pulled off his pants I noticed the monkey had poop on his legs… the only place to pull over was some Podunk state route exit with nothing more than a cemetery, of course! Thankfully it wasn’t the side of the interstate so it would have to do.

By this time we can smell what the monkey has done. Upon opening the car door Tiko takes off and starts peeing on every headstone in sight; the Mann family offers their condolences and apologies to all those buried in that cemetery. As I pull the monkey out of his car seat dread, and my gag reflex, kick in. The ENTIRE car seat is covered in poop as is my son. Groaning for Brandon I carefully climbed out of the car with my son held out in front of me, arms fully extended.

Luckily I had dressed the monkey in a button down shirt that came off easily. As I held my son out in front of me like a smelly garbage bag, Brandon pulled off his diaper and dropped it on the ground. Placing his burp cloth on the trunk of the car we laid the screaming monkey on his belly and started scraping poop off his ENTIRE back; throwing the wipes on the ground as we went. We now understood why he was so upset. Monkey 3 – Mommy (still) 0. Laughing at the picture I was sure we were making I told Brandon to hold on I wanted to get my camera. LOL.

Having not fully understood the purpose of scented diaper disposal bags that I received at a baby shower realization hit me like a rock on the forehead. I took a second to thank my heavenly Father for the blessing of the giver as I pulled them from the diaper bag. As Brandon changed, dressed, and medicated the monkey with gas drops I picked up all the poopy stuff and placed it in scented bags and threw the 6 bags in the back of the car. (We were in a cemetery so of course there were no trash cans). While Brandon attempted to pacify the monkey, who had started to calm since being cleaned off, I pulled the car seat out and started cleaning it the best I could. As I was, yet again, scraping poop I noticed he had gotten some UNDER the cover. I had to remove the cover and get in a bunch of little nooks and crannies getting poop all under my finger nails. FAIL! Monkey 4- Mommy ZERO! Doing the best I could I warned Brandon that we might be smelling poop all the way to Cinci, and we were less than 30 minutes down the road. LOL.

After all was cleaned up and the monkey was happy we loaded up the car, yet again, but not before snapping a few pictures of some Carrico headstones (Brandon’s family name). Once on the road the monkey fell asleep within 5 minutes and we had a peaceful res of the drive to Cinci. Laughing at the whole ordeal I assured Brandon there would be a story WITH pictures.

Our son may have won the battle that day but the war is not over- IT’S ON NOW! BRING IT!

Don't Be Afraid of the Dark

Like any other Thursday I gathered my sheet music and CDs and headed out of the office around 4:30. Making my way over to church I parked my car and set the emergency brake taking care to grab all that I needed for rehearsal. The newly finished lobby brimmed with the evening sun coming through the wall of windows; there was no need to turn on any lights. Stepping into the auditorium cast a shade of pure darkness fell over me as the door shut behind me taking all the light from the lobby with it. Allowing my eyes to adjust to the sudden change in perspective I thought over how I would make my way backstage.

Slowly walking my way up the isle, familiar with the 3 foot width, I reached for the stage with intentions to follow along the edge to the stairs that I knew were on the far wall. With my hand out in front of me, following the stage, confusion suddenly hit only seconds before pain. Doubling over I sensed my muscles and nerves sending messages to my brain although I didn't understand why. Throwing both hands out in front of me frustration added to my confusion as the blackness through out the room maintained it's presence and I couldn't see where I was putting them. Letting out a cry of pain I heard my sunglasses go flying out into the black pitted abyss. The tips of my fingers registered something hard as my hips and thighs took in gravity and made contact with the same object as my fingers many times over. Slowly my brain put all the pieces together and mentally formed stairs. Grasping in the darkness, for what I'm not sure, I hoped for anything that would help me find some sense of balance. The blackness was confusing my brain as to what was up/down/ right or left and I threw all sense of grace away, like my sunglasses across the room somewhere, and landed with a genuine SPLAT.

Jolting to a halt my elbows and forearms made contact with cold concrete that I couldn't see. A burst of color flashed across my eyes like a firework display as more muscles and nerves shot messages of pain to my brain. My head bobbed and I could feel my feet in the air held up by a foreign object although I couldn't see either the object or my feet. What lasted only seconds had felt like ten minutes.

Breathing and moving slowly I lowered my feet to what I hoped was the ground and turned my hips right side up. Nervously I placed my hands on the concrete and searched for the object in question. Stairs. When did they put stairs on the front of the stage, this is new, why are they here, for the special service, I don't have a concussion, can I walk, MAN that hurt. My thoughts began to come tumbling out of no where as quickly as the staircase I just hit. Carefully, I crawled up the stairs taking care to place each hand and foot firmly before dropping my full weight.

Believing that the fall/crash/ incident hadn't been that bad I placed all the music and CD's where they needed to go and limped my way back out to my car.

2 weeks later and the bruise that slowly formed still looks nasty and feels like I just bumped it.

3-2-1 Blast Off

Oh the joys of having a boy!
My little monkey is just that; a moving, wiggling, and JUMPING around monkey
Most have heard the story of him jumping off our couch just before he turned 4 months old and last Tuesday he attempted yet another death defying leap only this time it was out of my arms.

Having only been home from work for a few minutes I took a second to say hello to my hubby and put my things down before reaching for my ever smiling little monkey. Like almost all other nights he met me with smiles and wiggles of excitement as I reached to pick him up for a snuggle and kiss on the forehead. Taking only a moment to chatter to him about his day I then settled in to hear my hubs tell me a story about work, the little monkey still in my arms. Paying close attention to the details of the story caused a slight distraction to the monkey in my arms giving him the split second opportunity he needed. Before I could form a thought to say NO his feet were flat on my side, his back was arched, and he was plummeting head first to the floor. With cat like reflexes, that I firmly believe all mothers received at the birth of their child, I turned and caught the monkey by the ankle only 6 inches from the floor. My heart stopped and for a split second my vision blurred. I couldn't tell if I had caught him or not. Brandon brought me back to the present with a "Nice catch!" before continuing with his story, never missing a beat. I stared at the child in my hand and sighed as I heard him let out a laugh that came from deep depths of his belly and watched as he wiggled in an attempt to make it happen again. With a death grip on his ankle I lifted and turned him right side up. His face was lit with a smile and his body radiated pure excitement and joy even as my breathing was still coming fast. I took a tighter hold on him as I turned to Brandon and explained that he would have to stop talking; I needed a moment. Even as he reassured me that everyone and everything was OK I still had to force my breathing to slow and return to normal.

Taking in the smiles from everyone in the room I calmed and allowed Brandon to finish his story. I did not however release my tight hold on my little monkey. With one arm around his back and locked onto his leg and the other set firmly under his armpit I made sure he stayed put for the rest of the story, despite his attempt to wiggle and launch again.

While I had yet another almost heart attack my son and husband brushed off the event like it was an everyday occurrence. This child is going either be the death of me OR will strengthen my heart so much that I'll never die! If I have to live with moments like that for the rest of my life I'm not sure which I would prefer. :) The difference between boys and girls was made more than obvious that night and I learned I have a lot of learning to do when it comes to raising a son!

6 Months

6 months... wow. July 18th my son turned 6months and celebrated his half birthday!

At his 6 mo. check up he weighed in 17lbs 4 oz and was over 26 in long. He's going to be a big boy and tall like his daddy. Each time I pick him up I can feel the muscles in my arms straining at the added weight- he gives me a full workout. Despite him only being 6 mo. I still can't believe that he's sitting up on his own, keeping his balance, scooting across the floor, and rolling around. We started pricing and researching gates with full understanding that it would be better to buy them BEFORE he starts moving. If his current state is any indication as to what we've got ahead of us we're going to have to keep a close eye on this one.

He has been eating solids for about 1.5 months already; however, he now eats them with a vengeance. He frequently opens his mouth like a little birdy ready for the next bite before you even get the spoon back in the jar. We've discovered that he thoroughly enjoys oatmeal, like his mommy, and will eat just about anything you put in his mouth- thankfully!

Diaper changes have become more difficult as he's reaching, grabbing, and chattering up a storm. He loves to play with diapers, since they crinkle, and if you're not careful he'll snatch one right out of your hands followed by an evil laugh. His vocabulary includes YEA, HMM, DADA, and something that sounds like OK. Sarah taught him how to shake his head no so when you ask a question he loves to answer with a head shake. Granted he may not understand what he's actually saying and doing but I still think it melts Brandon's heart each time he hears dada. Our little monkey is a daddy's boy to the core. NO ONE and I mean no one can make him laugh the way Brandon does. He'll smile at me but he lights up for his dad.

One thing that has remained constant is his love of music and lights. He'll groove and bob his head to music and his face lights up at his toys that blink and flash at him. The best purchase we've made when it comes to toys, a Vtech baby laptop that we got at Once Upon a Child for $1.

Teething is our current lesson. Each day his drool increases and it is an impossible fight trying to keep his hands out of the back of his mouth as he tries to knaw on his fingers. We've learned, just this week, that teething toys are trial and error and what works for some infants does nothing for ours. For our little monkey a Raz Berry teether soothes him the best; outside of his fingers of course!

Lessons this month:
- Just because someone swears by something doesn't mean your child will LOVE it too!
- Tylenol on a daily basis is NOT okay so if you don't provide it to the daycare they can't give it to him. ;)
- Teething can get the best of even the easiest going children
- Children are expensive and keeping them contained to a particular area, baby gates, can cost as much as the child- seriously considering just throwing him in the backyard with the dog. :)
- 6 mo old children CAN eat you out of house and home!

Don't Let Go

Like any mother I cherish any time spent getting to snuggle my child with full knowledge that those times will grow less and less and shorter and shorter as my little monkey grows up.

Gentling place my little monkey in his crib I sighed with relief as I thought about the rest of my evening. With a plan in mind I made my way back to the living room and to my closest girl friend and husband. Quickly I took my spot on the couch as the three of us geared up for the movie that we carefully had selected earlier that day.

Music played, the screen filled with a gorgeous snow filled scenery, and the little monkey cried out in confusion and loneliness. Taking a moment to pause the movie before standing Brandon declared he would get it. The look I gave Sarah expressed my deep apologies with out saying a word and she just smiled in return and shrugged her shoulders. 10 minutes passed with out sight of Brandon and as I raised to check on him and the monkey the two made an appearance; Brandon carrying him lightly on his arm. The monkey's head bobbing up and down as they walked into the room, his eyes moving about to take in what was going on, and tears stained his cheeks and held at the corners of his giant reddened eyes.

Brandon took position in the recliner and readied to cuddle and rock the monkey back to sleep but he would have none of it. Arching his back, crying out, and flailing his arms Brandon could not get the monkey to settle down. Hearing his "pain" cry we dosed him with Tylenol as Brandon spent another 30 minutes attempting to comfort him with no real result. Oral Gel on his lower gums was next and although his crying died down it did not cease; defeated Brandon handed him over to me.

Immediately the little monkey clung to my hair and shirt as if fearing I might drop him. He desperately wanted to make sure that I knew not to let him go. Carefully I eased down into the recliner and worked to get both of us more comfortable and slowly began to rock the chair back and forth. Turning on my "mom" voice I cooed at my son to calm down and reassured him that everything was okay; almost instantly his body relaxed and his breathing calmed. Quickly his breathing evened out and he fell limp in my arms, sleep having over taken him. Slowly I walked the short distance to the nursery and gently lowered the monkey into his crib. His body having touched down on the sheet his eyes popped open and he cried out in protest. Confused, I raised him up again and watched as he settled, yet again, contently in my arms. After rocking for another short 5-10 minutes in the glider I attempted a second time to place the monkey in his crib; again, his eyes opened and his cries were heard through out the house.

Befuddled, I cuddled my son once again and made my way back out to the living room where Brandon and Sarah sat just as amazed as I was. Had he not just fought off an ear infection I would have let him cry it out; however, this type of behavior was very uncharacteristic of my little monkey so the three adults pondered what would cause such a needy reaction from the little one. Our conclusion: when you don't feel good you just want your mommy, it was all we could come up with to explain his drastic change in behavior.

Per Sarah's thought, I cuddled him while in my bath robe and we were able to finish the movie. Having been able to enjoy the movie in peace once it was over I make my way back to the nursery praying Sarah's idea would work. After placing the monkey in the crib I took off my robe and tucked it around him like a blanket and watched as he sighed with relief. 10 minutes later as my son realized that it was a bath robe he was cuddling and not me he cried out again. Frustrated and fearful that I might have to spend the evening in the chair I made my way into the nursery, for the third time, to pat the little monkey's bottom back to sleep. Cooing at him to calm and encouraging him to take the robe he settled down and fell in to an exhausted sleep.

As I leaned down to kiss him goodnight he had one arm and leg wrapped around my robe and was burying his nose in it's scent, my scent. I sighed with relief that I would get to sleep in my own bed and lightly chuckled at the sight of my son. Despite the change in evening plans it was nice to get some extra snuggle time and I took a second to cherish the thought.

He has been content each night since and despite my concern over his behavior that evening it was nice to feel so needed so badly for just one night.

5 Months

The boy is 5 mo. old.... AAAHHHHH!!!!!
The daycare has started feeding him rice cereal 1-2 times a day.

TH and F of last week he would NOT take a bottle from them during his AM feeding, they have no idea why, and they called asking if they could give him some rice cereal so that he had something in his stomach. It seemed to work and he was happy about it. He now gets cereal during his morning feeding, around 10-11AM, and right before bed (with some solid food, green beans/peas/carrots/squash). Every now and again in the PM if he doesn't eat a lot of his bottle the daycare will feed him cereal to fill his ever growing belly. My little porker is growing up so fast! Just last week he nursed, ate 3 tbls of rice cereal AND a 1 1/2 jar of green beans; CRAZY!!!!

His drooling increases on a daily basis and almost daily the daycare has to give him Tylenol for his mouth. I didn't check yesterday for any nubbins but I we should have a tooth here soon if the drooling keeps at its current rate. This means that my nursing days may come to an end before the summer is out because I have plans to quit once he starts biting me. I'm looking forward to NOT pumping but will miss our special nursing time. :)


Still the ever joyful little guy he is rarely seen with out a smile. He does great on his stomach and the desire to crawl is more than evident as he fights to reach for his pacifier or toy. He's almost desperate to have control and to be able to move; it's so cute!

He still loves people but no one makes him laugh more than his daddy. It is quickly becoming obvious that he favors his daddy over everyone else; Brandon is eating it up!

The boy now sits up on his own, can take his pacifier in/ out of his mouth, and can almost hold his own bottle. He LOVES to stand and his balance is getting better each time. If there is music playing he'll shake his butt to the beat; it cracks me EVERY time as he smiles and dances along.

His weight continues to goes up and I find that I can't hold him for more than 5 -10 minutes at a time. Cuddling for long periods of time while he sleeps is impossible as my arm starts to go numb quickly due to his increased weight. I'm looking forward to seeing how much he has grown at his 6 mo. doctors appointment.

This One's For The Birds

Given that we only have one tree in our yard I'm always excited when I find a bird nest; last year we had babies and it was my hope that we would again this year. I've never minded their high pitch chirping and since we have a garage they are unable to poop on our cars. :)

For weeks I've searched the branches for a nest and have never been able to see one. As it turns out my disappointed searches were due to my lack of height. Brandon informed me that not only do we have a nest but three little babies sitting inside. Determined to see the little guys I started jumping and hopping all around the tree trying to make myself tall enough to get a peek.

After thoroughly embarrassing my husband he offered to take a picture for me instead since my silliness was getting me no where. Eagerly I gave him my camera and watched as he attempted to stick it between the leaves and snap a picture. As Brandon made every attempt to get the camera to focus I noticed that momma and poppa birdy were perched on the roof top chirping a sharp warning at both of us. Eyeing the pair wearily I called out a warning to Brandon as one of them made a bee-line for the tree.

Swooping low the bird cried out as it soared past us with it's intent more than evident. Brandon bent at the knees and lowered his head he was just missed by the bird flying past. Eyeing the bird as it re-perched on the roof and began it's sharp warning again, I laughed and mentioned that he should hurry up and take the picture.

After the birds third attempt to peck Brandon's eye out he gave up and handed me my camera. My hopes of getting a peek at the babies were squelched as I looked at what Brandon was able to get.

Jingle Bells

Andrew's development is growing each day and now that he is gaining motor skills he has begun grabbing at anything he can get his fingers around, including my hair.

He has always had a fascination with my dark curls and thoroughly enjoys it when I lean over and tickle his face with them. If I'm not careful while playing with him he will get a hand full of curls and give them a good hard yank.

The favorite toy, as of late, has been a small shaker with jiggle bells attached. Each time I get it out his eyes widen and light up with joy as he eagerly reaches for them. He is quite familiar with their high pitched sound and thoroughly enjoys shaking and banging them around. I can't help but sing the favorite Christmas song "Jingle Bells" each time I bring them out and subconsciously get a craving for some peppermint hot chocolate.

I always encourage him to hold the handle the correct way, with all fingers on top and his thumb on the bottom, but when the bells are dropped or thrown he often picks them up however he can reach them. He'll laugh and talk as he jingles and as always there is a smile plastered across his chubby little face as his dimples make their well known appearance.

He is a happy child who, currently, jingles his way through life with a smile on his face and his bells in hand. :)

This past weekend while Brandon was visiting family in Boston the boy and I headed home to Cinci for a long weekend with my family. Thursday, Friday and Saturday were busy with activity and by Sunday we all were exhausted. Making a final trip to the store Sunday night my sister, mom, and niece all piled into the car and headed out to Walmart. Checking items off our list we loaded our cart and quickly made our way to the check out line in hopes of getting mom home in time to go to church with dad.
Rushing to the car the rain poured down hard and we all felt a little drenched once inside the car. Thankful that we made good time mom turned the key and heard nothing more than click, click, click. She turned to me with a sour face and I fought back a smile. Turning the key again, click, click, click and I stifled a laugh while mom cried out "Crap!". As mom called dad the rain and wind picked up speed and it began to look like a hurricane out the car windows as the rain came down at a slant and the trees that littered the parking lot bent at odd angles.

Plan A was to have dad come and jump the car; however, we decided that we didn't want dad jumping the car in the current weather and called back asking dad to bring the van and just pick us up, plan B. Since dad had Andrew and Kyndahl with him it was decided that dad would leave Kyndahl with Jen and bring the baby. 5 minutes later our plan was shattered as we realized that Amanda's car blocked the van and Amanda held her keys in her purse. Yes, at this point in time I broke into full blown laughter and exclaimed that there would be a Mann Update about this. Planning to possibly have dad pick us up in shifts, in Jen's smaller car, Amanda called her husband Jeff to the rescue.

Of course it would stop raining the minute someone came to get us even though we sat in a humid car for a hour watching the hurricane of a down pour. As Jeff pulled in to save the day the clouds parted, the sun shone brightly, and it was as if the angels sang at his presence: "AAAWWWWWW". hehehe.

We loaded all our Walmart goods in his trunk but unfortunately left no room for Kyndahl's car/booster seat. Since I am the smallest I was volunteered to sit in it for the duration of the car ride home, of course! We all piled into the car and laughed as we noticed that I fit quite nicely in Kyndahl's seat. Making it safely home, thanks to Jeff, we relaxed for the rest of the evening.

The following morning we were up early to head up to Springfield to see the grandparents. Mom and I pulled out in the van at 9:AM with plans to stop at Dunken Donuts on the way for coffee. We made it as far as the top of the hill before puttering to a stop and coasting towards the curb. Unsure if the car would make it even to get coffee we headed home, made a plan B to take two cars and piled into the Escape, the car that had died at Walmart the night before. Click, click, click. Stranded at home we were unable to see grandma and sadly unable to go get coffee. hehehe.

What is it with the Kennedy family and car problems?!

4 Months

The boy is 4 months old and continuing to grow like a weed. On a daily basis I am finding onsies and pants that no longer fit and adding them to the storage pile. I am quickly learning that when it comes to children and clothing you just never know what you are going to need, especially since I live in KY and the weather changes hourly. Andrew is growing out of his long sleeve onsies but I don't want to buy more given that summer is coming; however, the last few days have been extremely chilly. This often causes a financial pickle sprinkled with uncertainty but luckily we have access to a Once Upon a Child and it is garage sale season. :)

As the boy gets older he has become more active and is now swallowing his rice cereal and not just swishing and spitting. He even tips his head back like a little bird and reaching for the bowl indicating that he wants more. :) His active nature and eating of "solid" food has really helped him sleep. With in the last week he uped the average eight hour night from 3 nights a week to 3 ten hour nights in a row! This upward trend has brought many more laughs to the Mann household as Brandon and my moods have gotten better with increasing sleep.

Since the boy currently has a bad case of thrush I have finally been puked on, pooped on, and just generally defiled in every way an infant can disgust his parent in the last two weeks. Brandon is loving it, hehehe. Despite my new found appreciation for clean hair, clothing and furniture I am thoroughly enjoying the extra time that I've been given with the boy this week.

Each month we learn new things about being a parent and this past month has been no different:
-The boy learning to "get around" is NOT always a good/fun thing (i.e. past Mann Update where he jumped off the couch).
-Babies are hardy and sturdy for a reason.
-The doctor is not always right and sometimes you have to put up a fight for your child.
-Trust your instincts.
-Cable is not necessary when you have a child to entertain you for free!

Thrush

For the past few weeks we have seen a downward spiral in Andrew's disposition and it wasn't until the daycare called requesting permission to give him Tylenol did I foresee a serious problem in sight. After a day of nonstop screaming and two doctor appointments Andrew was diagnosed with a bad case of thrush.

Thrush: (in simple terms) a yeast/fungal infection in the mouth.

Thrush is considered highly contagious and we were told that should anything go in the boy's mouth it will need to be sanitized. Given that he is almost 4 months old my eyes widened at the thought of keeping anything out of his mouth and cleaning everything that went in it. This also meant that he would not be allowed at daycare until the infection is gone. For once in the past four weeks I gave thanks that I was unemployed, allowing me to stay home with him.

Once home from the doctor Brandon went out to fill the boy's prescriptions while I searched the house for anything that might have been in his mouth over the last two weeks. Laundry was done and bottle nipples, toys, and pacifiers were boiled all while the boy slept.

I pulled out an old and empty wipes box to put contaminated objects in for boiling later, made sure to have the box of q-tips ready for the 4 times daily medicine application, and we have the wipes box out for constant hand cleaning. Since the boy is an avid sucker we have an ample supply of pacifiers; this should cut down the boiling time and frequency immensely.

If anything the boy sure does keep us on our toes, constantly!

One Heart Attack Down, How Many to Go?

It was a morning like any other morning in the Mann household, 700 AM. He laughed he giggled and he rose from the couch like a catapulting ball...scaring his mother. :) For those that caught that reference (Cash Cow- Steve Taylor, for those that didn't), I AM able to make light of my mini heart attack this morning although for the 30 minutes that followed I was vigorously holding back tears and repeatedly having to take deep breaths.

Just like we have an evening routine we also have a morning routine. The goal is to enable Andrew to nurse before going to work and despite my current unemployment I try not to detour from the routine as much as possible.

At 7AM I could hear my son talking to himself and acting as an alarm clock to my senses. I went in, said my good morning, changed his diaper and started to ready him for the day. As we walked from his room to the living room he dropped his pacifier that had been firmly plugged in his mouth due his chipper morning chatter. Per our usual routine I propped him up in the corner of the couch so he could see and turned to retrieve his pacifier or "O'Malley" as we call it. With in a matter of 5 seconds I heard an odd thud and my son screaming. Turning my head to the couch I found that Andrew was not where I had placed him and upon further inspection I found him 2 feet from the couch on the floor on his face. (*Picture is reenactment of where Andrew landed and taken during his morning tummy time- NOT taken during actual event) All thought flew from my head and instinct flooded my actions as I immediately picked him up and began rubbing his back and attempting to soothe him. Guilt rushing at me like a tidal wave.

Once he calmed enough to nurse we continued the morning routine Andrew seeming to have completely forgotten the entire incident. He was unharmed but my nerves were on edge. For the next 30 minutes Brandon and I speculated how he may have accomplished this feat and we came up with two scenarios:

1. He leaned forward and pushed off with his legs, something we've seen him do or attempt before, placing him on the edge of the couch where he then rolled off and onto the floor.

2. He got his legs up under him and pushed off like a catapult throwing himself upward and hitting the edge of the couch and flopping on to the floor OR he cleared the couch and flipped.

Either situation does not sit well with my nerves even as Brandon jokes that he wished we could have gotten it on tape. My son's acrobatic stunt this morning gave both of us pause and a sense of worry as to what kind of child we have and what other heart stopping moments he is going to give us in the years to come. Thinking back over the numerous stories I've heard from my mother-in-law about Brandon, that seem in line with this morning, I have no doubt that I will be completely gray by the time I'm 30!

Don't Play With Your Food

Like most mornings I woke to find my son happy, wiggling, and ready to offer me plenty of smiles. I'm often amazed at how much of a morning person he is given that both his parents are so anti-morning that we would rather sleep till 12 just to bypass the AM portion of the day.

As we settled in for his morning nursing session I took note that he was slightly distracted and said a prayer of patience. The older he gets the easier it is for the littlest thing to grab his attention and as he tries to take in the entire world at once he forgets that he is, at the moment, attached to my chest. I'm constantly trying to make sure he doesn't rip anything off while eating as he turns his head, pulls back, or vigorously kicks his feet in the excitement of who knows what.

This morning I got lucky, he let go before pulling back and giving me a full gummy grin. Laughing I asked if he was done and watched as his eyes grew large at the sight of my nipple. He looked at it like he had never seen it before and fascination radiated from him from head to toe. He mouthed like he was hungry but as I attempted to reattach him he reached out and grabbed me instead. Upon him getting a hold of me he was squirted with his breakfast causing me to let out a laugh. The shock on Andrew's face as he was squirted with milk was hysterical and followed with a laugh of his own. Smiling he reached for me again and I caught his hand before he could squirt more milk on the two of us and encouraged him to latch instead, no success.

His excitement over his most recent discovery was unabated and he kicked his legs furiously while trying to eat and smile up at me at the same time. Surprisingly the milk stayed in his mouth as he continued to kick and then out of no where started to smack my breast. The noise and obvious increase of milk caused another look of shock and excitement. He was so proud of what he had discovered and seemingly wanted to further his research. After only a minute or so of this game and discovery I clamped down on his feet with my elbow and his hand with my own and did my best to encourage him to stop playing with his food and just eat, which he finally did.

Now unless he is down right starving he wants to play with his food. When given a bottle he gets right down to business but when nursing he wiggles, giggles, kicks, and attempts to play; anyone know how to get him to focus with out starving him first?

Milk It

For months prior to giving birth I fretted and worried over whether or not I would breastfeed or formula feed my baby. I devoured article after article on the debate and even attended a free breastfeeding class offered at a local hospital. Advice was given freely to me on the subject and each seemed to have a strong opinion one way or the other. I found that scientific research varied just as much as human opinion as to which was the better option. There are numerous reasons and scientific proof on both options and for some the choice is made for them. I was lucky enough to be able to make my own choice.

One month before my son was born I made a decision to breastfeed with a realistic goal of 6 months; keeping in mind that my goal may change once I returned to work and saw how my body responded to pumping. Again, the advice came pouring in: bottle vs. breast, pumping vs. nursing, how often of each, ect. My head, yet again, began to swim with all the options that were involved when feeding my son as I, for the second time, set out to take in as much information on the subject as my brain could handle. In the end I decided to make my own decision and I find that it changes on a daily basis as I allow my body to tell me whether or not I need to nurse or can allow my husband to give our son a bottle.

My need to work both emotionally and financially sent me out on a search for the perfect pump and for the third time this first time mom scowered the internet for research and reviews. I learned very quickly that my insurance would completely cover the cost of my pump with a prescription from my doctor and an order from the right provider and I was able to save us over $300. With the goal of 6 months of breast feeding in mind I began pumping and saving and storing every drop of breast milk I could.

Surprisingly, some of the most common questions asked to me as a new mom are: "How is the breast feeding going?" and "Are you still sticking with it?"


The picture above shows our current supply of breast milk. Each plastic bag (5) contains around 20 6-8 ounce bags of breast milk, which is roughly 700-800 ounces of milk or a 2 months supply.

I'd say the nursing/ pumping is going pretty well... ;)

Three Months

There are days where I just can't believe that my little guy is three months old. He seems so much bigger than three months and we can see him progressing and learning every day.

He is still very much a sweet heart and loves to smile at anyone who will look at him! On numerous occasions he has melted the hearts of complete strangers whether they be man or woman. Who wouldn't be won over by that sweet smile, big blue eyes, and red hair?! I tease Brandon that he's so content with strangers that one day someone will whisk him away from the daycare and he won't say a word in protest.

He has begun to fuss a little more but only when hungry or overly tired and is otherwise content to sit, watch, or talk to himself. He loves to carry on a conversation with anyone who's willing to talk to him and as he gets older I foresee him getting in trouble in school for his excessive talking; just like his mommy.

While most days is he is content to entertain himself with his own hands or the sight of his own feet I've noticed in the last week or so that he is showing signs of separation anxiety as I go to leave him at daycare. This is an issue I have mixed emotions over. I love that my son misses me and wants me around; however, I don't want him stressing out every time I leave. His day care has handled it marvelously and we could not be happier with the choice we made in placing him in their care during the day.

I guess you could say that we are still in la-la land when it comes to being parents. I am not saying that I want to jump into having another child right now; the thought of being pregnant again right now is NOT at all appealing, but we both are completely open to another one when the time feels more appropriate.

In the mean time we are enjoying every minute, smile, and crocodile tear that Andrew wants to give us. :)

Button

For weeks each time that I have gone into the nursery to change Andrew’s diaper on the changing table I have found the lid to the wipes box laying on top of the box. Every time I grew frustrated at having to, yet again, put the lid back on the box and wondered what in the world Brandon was doing to the box to have the lid CONSTANTLY broken off. One night after changing Andrew I finally remember to ask; I picked up the box and asked Brandon to show me how he opened it. I watched as he took his fingers to the edge of the lid and a loud belly laugh escaped from me as the lid popped off in his hand. Laughing with me he asked what was so funny? I once again replaced the lid on the box and with a dramatic sweep of my hand I pushed the button that opened the box without removing the lid. Brandon’s eyes grew in size as we both laughed and he shouted:

“ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!”

I shut the lid and pushed the button a second time allowing the lid to pop open without popping off. I doubled over in laughter as Brandon laughed and cried out: “They need to have new daddy orientations for these type things!” As I continued to laugh at my sweet husband he refused my sympathetic hug and teased me to get out. While making my exit I dramatically showed him how to open the wipes box again and again. :)

I wonder if I’ll find the lid torn off later just to spite me… and the box.

Suspision of Society

Pulling into the post office parking lot I took notice of the line that was already forming in the lobby and reminded myself, yet again, to never come to the post office during the lunch hour. Gathering my mail I double checked my purse for keys and locked the door as I stepped out in to the parking lot. As I entered the building I hardly took notice of the people and sighed at the length of the line I was now going to have to wait in. Keeping my head down I fiddled with my mail and pulled out my phone just to have something to do that would keep me from having to make eye contact with anyone; I'd been having a rough day at work and the last thing I wanted was be forced into small talk with a complete stranger. I held my purse even closer and lowered my head as far as my neck would allow as two men entered and got in line behind me. I was so focused on keeping myself from making eye contact or having to smile at anyone that I almost missed a small black woman approach and ask if she could borrow my phone.

Taking a moment to process that someone was talking to me I just gaped at the woman as she smiled and spoke again: "Miss, canna borrow your phone. I needa place a call and dey aint gotta pay phone."

The shock I felt that someone was talking to me and had asked me a question must have registered on my face as she continued to grin at me with all her teeth showing. I took in her bright pink lipstick that stood out against her dark skin and the vibrant teal scarf around her neck that didn't really match her deep red shirt and velvet purple pants. She carried a large black fake leather purse, that had seen better days, and despite the bright and sunny weather she held an umbrella. In her other hand she carried a plastic grocery bag that's content was a mystery due to the knot tied neatly at the top. As I took all of this in she just continued to smile and look at me while patiently waiting for me to answer her question.

Feeling that her bright pink and toothy smile was contagious, I smiled back at her while handing over my phone without speaking a word. As she carried on her conversation with a cab company my heart wrung for this sweet old lady who had enough spunk to ask a complete stranger to borrow a phone. Her smile never wavered as she requested a pickup and delivery for herself.

Checking the clock I took note that I still had forty minutes of my sixty minute lunch break left and began to formulate a plan in my head. When she handed my phone back to me I spoke to her for the first time and offered her a ride.

It was her turn to be shocked and as she did with me I just smiled and patiently waited for her to respond. "You don't needa do dat. I'ma just goin to Kroger across da way."

Reassuring her that I didn't mind and convincing her that it was just across the way she shook her head and mumbled how nice it was of me. Finishing up my mailing we headed out to my little car while I asked if there was any where else she needed to go. Teasing her that I was to be her free taxi service for as long as she required my assistance she nervously bent down into my passenger seat and pulled her purse close to her chest as she buckled her seat belt.

Within minutes we were pulling into a parking spot in the Kroger parking lot. Remembering that I needed to pick up a few things myself I climbed out of the car with her and took in the look of trepidation that now crossed her face. Giving her a toothy smile that matched her own just minutes ago I explained my own need to visit Krogers and watched as relief caused the wrinkles around her mouth to sag just a little more but were almost immediately deepened as she broke out another smile of her own. Coming around the car in a quick shuffle she took my arm at my elbow, she was almost a foot shorter than I, and began sharing with me her excitement that she had come to Krogers to buy a phone: "... onna those pay before ones dat I can use to call me a cab with."

At the mention of a cab she looked up at me and winked. Not intentionally following her to the stand with phones I watched as her eyes took in the display and saw the second confusion crossed her face. She turned to me with eyes wide, the spunk I had seen in the post office and parking lot had been replaced with uncertainty and it made her look even older. Her shoulders slumped in defeat and although I wasn't certain if they were shaking before her hands now shook.

Prying my eyes from hers I took in the display of phones and quickly digested the information in front of me. Thinking that she would need something simple and user friendly I recommended a small flip phone and picked up a correlating phone card with 150 minutes. As it had in the parking lot her face changed in an instant, the wrinkles around her mouth and eyes deepening as she gave me one of her toothy smiles. She snatched up the box and card in my hand with triumph, straightened her shoulders, and with a bounce in her step she made her way to the self check out. Again, not intentionally following her I felt drawn to this woman and the need to make sure I followed my good deed through to the end caused me to fall in line behind her with my own needed items completely forgotten.

Knowing that she would need help activating the phone and minutes I lead her to the front of the store and took her bag from her hands. I opened her bag and reached for the box focusing on my task of getting this woman set up with her phone. Within seconds a manager approached and firmly asked what I was doing?

Startled at his presence and stern voice I simply gawked at the man confused as to what and why he was asking. Clearing his throat he took the phone box from my hands, confusion coming to me in waves, and handed them to the sweet old black woman with a tight smile. I vaguely registered her shocked and confused face that quickly reverted back to the pink toothy grin I had come to know so well in the last 20 minutes.

"Whatch you doin young man, dis woman is my gaurdian angel and you treatin her like some criminal. She helpin me so if you please give dat box back to 'er. Lord knows I needa, dats why he sent 'er to ma."

His mouth opened and closed like that of a fish as the woman snatched the box from him just as she had done from me only minutes ago. Flashing him yet another pink toothy smile she proudly handed the box in my direction and pushed her purse back up onto her shoulder.

Involuntarily a chuckle came busting forth from my gut and I doubled over. With my eyes squeezed shut I let out a laugh loud enough for all of Krogers to hear. I imagined what our situation must have looked like and felt pity on the manager as he stood there completely taken aback at the woman's exclamation. He saw a white woman in a suit take a bag from a small mismatched old black woman and whether or not he understood the situation he acted on a society driven impulse. I don't know if it was the smug look on the old woman's face or the disbelief and shock on the manager's face but I found the whole situation highly amusing. My laughter didn't cease as the manager took his leave and the smile on the woman's face, to my surprise, only got bigger. Looking somewhat like a dog with a tail between his legs I could tell the manager's pride had been punched in the gut and all the fight was knocked right out of him.

Getting back to the task at hand I set up the phone and offered another ride. No amount of convincing that I could take her somewhere else stuck as the spunky old black woman insisted on making her first call, she called a cab company. Double checking to make sure she didn't need anything else I bid the woman goodbye and made my way out to my car to head back to work.

Checking the clock on my dash I saw I had just enough time to get back to work with in my sixty minute lunch break and reflected over the last hour. The woman had called me her guardian angel and the manager thought I was a thug dressed in a suit. Laughing to myself as I turned up my stereo and lowered my windows I felt compelled to pray for the old woman and the manager. Remembering the defensive nature in the managers voice and body language a sad realization damped my laughter and gaiety of the situation; my good deed was seen as theft and for the first time in my life, that I can remember, I was prejudiced against for being white.

The drive back to work was solemn as I prayed for both people involved and gave thanks that it was me that offered the spunky woman a helping hand and not someone who had ill intentions in mind. It seems in our society today that it's true that no good deed goes unpunished.

What a depressing thought.

Lock Down

Sharing an office building with other businesses has made working at my company interesting. Since our lobby is on the second floor the stairwell and elevator access to that floor are open to the public; however, to gain access to the third floor you must have an electronic key or be buzzed up by the front desk. The same is true to gain access around the second floor. The lobby is open but to be able to walk back to any offices or even to open the bathroom door you must have your assigned electronic key or have the front desk receptionist electronically unlock one of these doors for you.

Having trained myself from day one, each time I step out of my office I pick up my key and make my way around the building while wishing I worked on the third floor. Even though you need a key to gain access to the third floor once there you are free to move about without the road block of a locked door. Those working on the third floor can go the bathroom without fear of getting locked out or having to, yet again, ask the receptionist to open the door for you.

When initially considering the reason for the second floor lock down, someone’s purse was stolen by an outsider, you can’t help but be grateful for the security of our two floors. Giving it more thought you might realize that if you have an office on the second floor you must carry your electronic key around with you at all times or remain forever at the mercy of the front desk receptionist. Although she will gladly open a door for you I can’t imagine the frustration it might cause her to be constantly asked to open this door or that door. The embarrassment of having to ask her to open the bathroom door each time the need presents itself is reason enough to guard your electronic key as if it were a piece of the crown jewels.

Having left my key at home this morning I found myself in a position of humbleness and mercy. Understand that before having a child my bladder, in my opinion, was the strongest muscle in my body. I could drink my 8 cups of water and hold it for the entire day if I chose to. Even while pregnant I maintained most of my strength and laughed as other pregnant women ran to the bathroom every 30 minutes. Now that my son is here my poor bladder is weak, tired, and incapable of holding even a cup of liquid for an hour and I had a cup of coffee while driving to work.

Having only been back at work for two weeks I am still working out my morning routine that will get me to work on time. I was 15 minutes early this morning. Waiting in my car for a female coworker to pull in I gathered the courage I would need to sheepishly ask her to let me in the bathroom. Just the thought of even considering asking a male coworker to such an act caused enough embarrassment for me to avoid eye contact with the three that walked in the building while I sat in my car waiting. After what felt like an hour, but was only minutes, a female coworker pulled into the parking lot. Eagerness took over and I almost leaked my cup of coffee on the front car seat. Taking a deep breath and pushing my pride over such a silly and nonsensical matter aside I stepped from the car and made my way inside to ask her the big question:

“Can you open the bathroom for me?”

To give a little padding to my already bruised pride I will be refraining from all liquids today.

Two Months

It has been a hectic and awesome couple of months but we've loved every minute of it. Being a parent is everything and nothing like what people tell you but in the end we consider ourselves thoroughly blessed. Andrew remains easy going and laid back and is by far a SUPER baby. He still eats, sleeps, and poops like a champ and his smiles continue to melt our hearts. He does tummy time fairly well and he has already learned how to roll over; I'm still unsure how I feel about that... he's growing up WAY too fast! Most night he sleeps 6 hours but Monday night he did his first 8 hour night and we both were elated and hoping this marks a trend. ;) He turned 9 weeks old Tuesday and went in for his 2 month appointment weighing in at 11 lbs 15 ounces and measuring 23.5 inches.

Tiko is still doing great with Andrew and they are good buds. Andrew loves to watch Tiko's tail and doesn't mind Tiko's occasional kisses. It should be fun to watch the two of them play once Andrew gets older.

The Night Shift

Blinking rapidly with hopes of moisturizing my dry contacts I rolled over to looked at the clock. Carefully I pushed my pillow back making sure not to put any weight on my chest, I could feel the tightness of my skin beneath my shirt and bra and knew that it was close to feeding time. The clock read 2:AM, used to waking at such an early hour my mind did a quick calculation where I realized it had only been four hours. The wheels in my head began turning as I tried to decide whether or not to get up or to go back to sleep in hopes that Andrew would sleep another two hours. It took only a minute or two to decide that the more sleep the better and I rolled over fluffing my pillow on the way. I closed my eyes and tried to block out the ache coming from chest as I focused on a serene scene of a wooded area.

Forty-five minutes later I woke yet again, my bust aching for relief and my body wide awake ready to make the journey across the house to feed my son. I entered his room and with out even seeing his face I immediately knew that he was still in a deep sleep. Smiling I crossed the room to the crib and peaked over the edge already knowing what I was going to find. Andrew was asleep, as I predicted, and through his wiggling he had pulled the covers up over his face. Only a small finger or two peaked out from the top of the covers along with his pacifier which he had probably pulled out and now laid above his head. Laughing at the idea that he liked to snuggle the covers up high like his mom I lightly pulled the covers down to his chin and exposed his face to the chilly night air in the house. I watched as he didn't even stir at the movement and knew that I was going to have to pump. Again my head ran with calculations and I realized that I would probably be up again with in a hour to feed him. I quickly pumped and placed a readied bottle on the stove-top for easy heating when the time came.

Twenty minutes after checking on Andrew I fluffed my pillow and crawled into bed. Checking the clock one last time I read the bright red numbers with ease; 3:AM. My body welcomed the warmth of the covers like flowers in the spring as the temperature rises. My head found the sweet spot of my pillow that supported my neck with just the right amount of fluff and with in minutes I was back to dreaming of my walk in the woods.

Andrew's cry through the monitor woke my mind and body and I vaguely wondered what time it was feeling that was a long hour. Rolling over on my stomach and pushing my pillow aside I leaned over to find the red numbers for the third time that morning; 6:AM. Brandon moved to get up as I smiled and let him know that a bottle was on the stove-top ready for a quick warm up. With slow movements that spoke of sleepiness Brandon thanked me in a deep groggy voice and shut the bedroom door.

I rolled back onto my pillow again, my head searching for that sweet spot, and quickly calculated the time. My face broke into an elated smile at my realization right before my mind drifted back into the woods for another thirty minutes.

Feeling fully alert, awake, and content I leisurely flung the covers off of me and let the cold air chill my arms and legs as I got out of bed. I could hear the shower in the bathroom running and the low hum of the fan as I slipped my slippers on my feet and made my way to the living room. Pausing only to turn on the TV I bounced my way to the nursery humming "Amazing Grace" on the way. I flipped the switch and filled the room with light as I made my way over to my son and brightly wished him a good morning. He returned my smile with one of his own as he began to wiggle and laugh, cooing and gurgling his good morning to me.

Reaching down I picked him up and snuggled him close to my face taking in his sweet baby smell before congratulating him on his first EIGHT HOUR NIGHT! My excitement radiated through me and Andrew picked up on the fun still laughing and wiggling as if proud of himself for this great feat. We both left the nursery with plenty of smiles and giggles as we went to start our day.