I have to brag.

My kid is a rock star sleeper. He started sleeping through the night at less than 2 months old, and has never looked back. He sleeps through illness and teething and growth spurts. He sleeps 13-14 hours per night.

Heck, last night we had a Mom and Dad FAIL moment because we went out to buy his toddler bed at 6:30 pm. We thought "Oh, we'll just get it home, toss it together, and he'll be in bed by 8". Uh, no. It took us over two hours to assemble the new bed, disassemble his crib, and baby proof his room, so Payne didn't get into bed until after 9. He STILL, even with a new bed, and probably being overtired, went right to sleep and hasn't peeped (it's now 8 am).

(Photos of him being the best baby ever last night)



(His faithful sidekick. I bet she's already plotting morning snuggles)



He also regularly takes a 3 hour nap. He must really love his Mother, or have undiagnosed narcolepsy. Either way, I'm running with it.

I consider Payne's unbeatable sleep habits repayment for his lifelong pattern of pooping 4 to 5 times per day, and as frequently as possible in public. I swear, for him, people watching somehow equates to reading the newspaper.

Well good morning to you too!

This is what I found when I opened Payne's bedroom door this morning.



Uhhh....

I know he was wearing clothes last night (scratches head), a footed sleeper actually. He did some nice work on the diaper there too, thank goodness it stayed on! I'm trying to picture him peeling his own sleeper off and I gotta say I'm a little impressed.

"You ate an entire wheel of cheese?! I'm not even mad. That's amazing!" pretty much sums up my reaction.

I guess we'll be babyproofing his room and shopping for a toddler bed tonight. To summarize his pediatrician 's opinion; Once he throws a leg over the crib railing, do not stop, do not pass go, proceed to a toddler bed.

Who else has a feeling I'll have more funny (for you) stories to tell now that my kid has outgrown the baby cage?

The girls have been renamed.

Payne pointed to Stella tonight and said "Ed-dah", and then pointed to Ethel and said "Ed-doh".

Ed-doh and Ed-dah. Hmm. Kind of reminds me of Flotsam and Jetsam.

I think there's definitely a resemblance.




I think it's the general "up to no good"ness.

Another "I can't be the only one"

I can't be the only one that takes complete advantage of my child not having developed a palate yet, right?

The child will eat ANY combination I put in front of him. I've seen him dip green beans into salsa, dip his apple slice in ketchup, and take a bit of red beans and rice then chase it with a bite of banana. He'll eat cheese smothered whatever. I could feed him cardboard with a queso drizzle.

So of course I use this to my advantage. I chop up canned carrots or green beans and sneak them into his macaroni and cheese. I put broccoli florets in his omelet. Or, if I'm eating something terrible for lunch myself, I serve it to him with a side of fresh fruit or something to assuage my guilt. Has anyone ever had nachos with peas and sliced peaches on the side? Me neither. Heh heh heh!

I know this is a short lived phase, and he'll soon catch on that Mama's macaroni doesn't have the weird little green slices floating in it like his does; so for now I'm totally milking it.

Anyone want to come over for a grilled cheese and diced carrot sandwich?



Payne is psyched!

It must be in that Y chromosome.

For over a month now, Payne will pick up a small object, chuck it with as much force as an arm about 1.5 inches in diameter can muster, and then when it hits the ground go "Ohhhh! Waaaah!". I'm not conveying this noise very well, but imagine a sports bar full of men watching a football game involving the home team. That noise that varies only in pitch depending on a good or bad development in the game? That's the general noise I'm talking about. Now, just add early talker lispishness to it and you have Payne's exact noise.

For weeks I could not for the life of me figure out where he picked it up or why he so consistently did it. Then I remembered we had a weekend where we had two cookouts with our college friends two days in a row. Both times we played "washers" which is a game where you lob a large metal washer into a series of holes in a box for various points. This is mostly a dude thing at our get togethers, and the women often send the kids out into the yard with the men, to dodge washers and just generally get in the way (and have a blast in the process). So Payne is imitating the men gathered around with their beers, tossing metal rings into a box, and celebrating success or failure. I find this hilarious.

Maybe this explains why he insists on having a Koozie on his sippy cup 90% of the time.






(some dudely discussion with his buddy J.P.)

I wonder...

how many kids of Aggies have this shirt right now.



And I wonder how many UT Dads wrinkled their nose at it when their wife brought it home, like Dan does whenever I dare to bring home anything burnt orangish. Hee.

Gig 'em!

The beloved nursery.

I remember as an expectant Mom, that room was VERY IMPORTANT. A sort of fanatical amount of energy went into preparing it, as if the baby would look around on that first day home and say "Wrong! Next set of parents please!" if it weren't perfect. It had to be completely decked out like two full months before the baby was born, too; nevermind that most newborns don't sleep in their room for months. heh heh.

So here was Payne's room before his birth.



(I laugh when I see this photo because I just took the following photo last week)



Well, at least the wainscoting is still intact. The giant carpet stain was totally intentional, by the way. Yep.

I'm actually in awe that there is not a single lego bomb in the middle of the room. Those things could be instruments of war!