Upping the Ante

All right. Somebody send a memo to this kid. Something like this:

Dear Sir:

Please cease and desist with the accelerated growing up already.

Signed,

Your Parents

Last night while I was patiently (ha!) waiting for Bry to go to sleep already, I watched in semi-horror as he PULLED HIMSELF UP TO STAND using his crib bumper and rails as a jungle gym. He stood up long enough to get the top crib rail in his mouth before he toppled over backwards, narrowly missing cracking his head on the opposite side of the crib. Today grandma found him standing post-nap as well. Yipes.

There are no pictures of these events because watching him stand up causes me to become rooted to the ground, contemplating the impending doom of a baby on the run. The shock of seeing the kid standing up under his own power reminds me of a couple we saw at the mall when Bry was maybe a month or two old. Steve and I were casually wandering through the mall with Bry fast asleep in his stroller (good times, those) when a crazed toddler came booking down the hall. He must have been about 18 months old and was running laps around a kiosk full of brochures. In his excitement, he was pulling brochures off the kiosk and tossing them into the air like confetti. His poor parents were trying to simultaneously chase after him, halt his actions, and stuff the brochures back into the kiosk. At that moment, the mom caught my eye and grimly said, "Enjoy your first year." Chilling words. Who can grab the camera in the midst of all of that contemplation?

What Goes Up

Over the past few nights, the rule has been: What goes up, stays up. I walked into the nursery a few mornings ago to rescue Bry from his crib only to find him SITTING UP and absentmindedly running his hand across the crib bars, much like how I imagine a baby in jail would summon a warden. This was all well and cute and - hey! - Bry is making progress in gross motor skills and whatnot. The only problem with this achievement is that he has not yet developed the ever so important skill of LYING BACK DOWN after he has rolled himself up into a sitting position. The upshot is that two nights ago at 10:40 pm, 3:30 am, 3:50 am, etc. (the actual timing is maybe a little fuzzy), we stumbled into the nursery to find Bry crying and sitting up, unable to go back to sleep because he's upright. As soon as we calm him down, and place him on his back or side, he seems to instinctively roll onto his stomach and then sit up. Good trick for impressing the ladies perhaps, but not so helpful in the middle of the night. Needless to say, sleep (or actually the lack thereof) has been quite miserable. Anybody have any tips on teaching babies to go from vertical to horizontal?

Just Keep Swimming

Yesterday, the whole fam headed out to Bush Lake to go swimming. It was Bry's first experience in water, outside of the bathtub and well, amniotic fluid, I guess. We met up with some friends and splashed around for a little bit. Bry wasn't sure what to make of the whole experience at first.

Are you sure there aren't any sharks in this lake?

He warmed up to it after awhile, probably thinking that this was the world's biggest bathtub, ever. Sweet. There was much gleeful splashing to be done.


Most interesting, however, was the sand on the beach. Bry contemplated its texture for a long time.


Of course, he also tried to shove fistfuls of it into his mouth. Hopefully we don't get any crunchy diaper surprises in the next few days.

What happens at the beach stays at the beach. Hopefully.

Gratuitous Baby Photos

Steve, the Bry, and I spent last weekend in Wisconsin hanging out with the g-rents and Aunt Dana and Uncle Ryan. Bry had his own personal paparazzi following him around most of the time.

Are you sure these pears are certified organic?

Look ma, no lips.

Bry gets to know most people mouth first.

Firsts

Bry has been burning through a number of firsts over the past month. First trip out of the state. First introduction to solid foods. First semi-crawling movement. First haircut.

Yup, we took Bry to a kids' hair salon for his first "real" trim. I've cut Bry's hair probably 3 or 4 times already. Kid's hair growth is phenomenal. The first time was on his one-month birthday, for the traditional Chinese hair trimming ceremony. I took the cautious approach on that one and just trimmed up his baby mullet a little bit. I got a little bolder with subsequent haircuts, but I'm obviously not trained as a stylist.

Mom, those look awfully sharp.

For his first "real" haircut, I'd say that Bry did remarkably well. The woman cutting his hair left a lot to be desired, however. Her crankiness made us wonder why she ever signed up to cut kids' hair. Plus, the mother of her previous customers barged in on Bry's haircut because her daughter's bangs had been cut crookedly. Even I could tell they didn't look right.

Figure 1: Baby blissfully unaware of haircut as he soaks in the entrancing TV show in front of him.

Figure 2: Baby getting a little more worried that this woman is totally going to ruin his faux hawk.

Progress

Well, it only took a week, but Bry is finally on the move. Kind of. He does a funky army crawl, sprawled out on his belly, wriggling forward slowly, but with much, much effort. I give the kid a lot of credit - every inch is hard won. He still doesn't get the idea of using his hands and knees, though. Instead, he pushes up on his hands and feet, making funny grunting baby noises and not really going anywhere. The deciding motivator to get him going was a stack of cups.


What he lacks in technique he makes up for in style. Bry did about a 720-degree turn on his belly at his Aunt Dana and Uncle Ryan's house by kicking just one leg and spinning around and around. He's going to be really good at Twister some day. I can just tell these things.

Oh cups, you will elude me no more!

Alaska, Part Deux

As promised, the rest of our Alaska saga went something like this (never mind that we've been home for a month):

(1) Board big cruise ship

(2) Eat lunch

(3) Attend lifeboat drill (As you can see, Bry was not so fond of the life jacket. In fact, both he and Steve removed theirs before the drill had properly ended. Turns out it's difficult to hold a writhing infant encased in foam when you yourself are also surrounded by 6 inches of foam.)

Aieeeeeee!

(4) Try to get Bry to take a nap in our room

(5) Fail

(6) Eat dinner

(7) Try to get Bry to go to bed

(8) Watch the lovely view

Going outside to watch the scenery is for suckers.

(9) Or, watch TV with closed captioning on

(10) Play rock, paper, scissors for who gets to go to the "midnight snack"

Wake up the next day, eat breakfast, wash, rinse, repeat...

Admittedly we had a lot of help on the babysitting front. We traded out who would watch Bry at night while the rest of the crew lived it up, watching the on-board shows or soaking in the hot tub. OK, grandma was mostly the one doing the babysitting, but she promised she didn't mind. Really!

The food really was quite wonderful, although all meals eaten in Bry's presence were scarfed down pretty quickly. Not that I'm complaining, but surf and turf downed in 5 minutes just doesn't taste the same. Most of the meals were spent with 5 of the 7 people in our group actually sitting at the table, while the other 2 were wandering the dining room, looking at shiny things.

Fancy, eh?

Since the earliest dinner time bordered on Bry's bedtime, dinner was definitely a race to finish 3 courses before meltdown occurred. (I know, rough life, eh?) The crowning moment happened one night when a tired, inquisitive Bry flailed towards the table, probably reaching for the the shiny silverware when a coffee cup stopped him short. We learned our lesson about no liquids within Bry's reach. Luckily it wasn't hot. Just wet enough to soak the diaper bag sitting next to the table, though.

All in all, we had a great time. I'll just leave it at that, without mentioning the aftermath of convincing a 6-month old upon returning home that yes, it really is OK to sleep through the night again. Ahem.

Bryson has apparently hired a stunt double to do all of his sleeping for him.

What Goes In...

Steve made a startling discovery during a recent diaper change when he happened upon the word 'or' in the nether regions of Bry's poopy diaper. Either the kid's colon is highly verbal (groan), or he managed to grab and chew a rogue piece of paper undetected. He really devours the literature, you know. OK, I'll stop there.

Moving on Up

Over the past week or so, Bry has made strong efforts at defying the second law of thermodynamics, remaining in as close to perpetual motion as possible given nothing but breastmilk, baby oatmeal, and sweet potatoes as fuel.

(By the way, the sweet potatoes rated a definite 'eh' which is better than 'aaahhhhhhhhhh!')

This kid is ready to be on the move. Unfortunately, his body is not cooperating so much. From a sitting position, he lunges forward, trying to grab whatever we've so deviously placed just out of his reach. He simultaneously pushes forward with his feet, plants on his belly, and then looks up at us with a look on his face that says, "Oh, heh, silly me. I seem to have pitched over again. Dear parents, could I trouble you to prop me back up into a sitting position again?"

Right. It's more like this: He pitches forward, realizes he's on his tummy (ah! evil! tummy time! noooooo!), and then fusses and makes indignant sounds until one of us sits him up again. When we try to prop him on his hands and knees, his legs promptly slide out from under him until he's back into position for...you guessed it...tummy time, and the whole cycle ensues. Even more frustrating for the little man is that he's started in the past 2 days to scoot backwards when he's on his tummy. You can watch the transformation on his face from determined to devastated as whatever object he desires steadily gets farther and farther away. It's hard not to laugh. And as empathic parents, we totally laugh. And then push his toy within his reach. He knows we're totally laughing with him.

I think everyone in the household is hoping for a dip in frustration as Bry learns to embrace his manifest destiny and start crawling. I'm pretty sure the first place he's going to crawl is right towards wall outlets. The kid has a thing for electrical cords. *Don't worry, we only let him chew on the ones that aren't plugged in. Although now that we've started the baby-proofing process (by which I mean Steve went out and bought some gates and various locking devices), he'll probably decide he's content to stay put wherever he is.

*Kidding!

Mealtime, Revisited

OK, I take it back. Although Bry's first meal was deemed an astounding success, his subsequent meals have been less than stellar. (Perhaps this is because I had nothing to compare the first meal to, so anything would have seemed successful.) Since his first bites of rice cereal a week ago, Bry has most emphatically decided that he is not into the soupy concoction. I'm not entirely sure I blame him if his choice is solely gustatory in nature. Watery rice gruel, anyone? (We also made a brief and not successful foray into the world of baby oatmeal - which looks suspiciously like rice cereal.) However, he also seems quite averse to the whole experience of the high chair and using a spoon for anything other than a teething toy. He gets quite angry if say, you try to take the spoon from him (the cruelty!), dip it in the cereal (how could you!), and shove it back in his mouth (oh, the betrayal!). Feeding times have shrunk to about 4 minutes, after which time Bry goes postal (baby-style, which generally means screaming).

We're not sure if we should try vegetables or fruits, feed him somewhere other than the high chair, just give up for a week and try again later, or look into long-term breastfeeding. (OK, not really.)

We know that sooner or later, Bry will get the hang of the whole eating thing. Perhaps Steve is right and he's really just holding out for a cheeseburger. Mmmm, cheeseburger...

Food Goes in the Mouth

Here are the stats for Bry's 6-month trading cards:

Weight: 19 pounds even (this took a while to determine, since Bry kept trying to lean out of the scale in the same way that he tries to lean out of his car seat whenever we're cruelly trying to strap him in). This is in the 75th percentile according to the ped.

Length: 27.75 inches (90th percentile)

Hair: Awesome.

Smiles: Many and indiscriminate (Bry has been cataloged smiling at mama and daddy, the cat, pretty much every stranger he encounters, his spider toy, the refrigerator, his reflection in the mirror, etc.)

Grumpiness: On the rise as he realizes that there is a great big world out there that he'd like to explore but just can't maneuver his stubborn body to. However, this doesn't stop him from lunging towards anything of interest. And maybe clocking his face on the floor every now and then. The grumpiness is offset though by the...

Cute factor: Off the charts.

We finally got around to starting Bry on solid foods tonight, too. "Solid" may be a bit of a stretch for the gruel-like rice cereal (whole grain! so very nutritious! really!) we fed him. His first feeding was officially declared a success.

Eh, solid foods. What's the big deal? I've totally mastered spoons. What's that you say? I'm supposed to use the other end?

Being the considerate baby that he is, Bry totally "helped" to get the spoon into his mouth, at which point he vigorously sucked on it, trying to extract every last drop of rice-y goodness.

The only complaint was that the food wasn't coming fast enough for his taste.

Rice cereal down. Breakfast burritos, here we come.

Adventures on the High Seas (Or, Our Summer Vacation)

Whew.

Taking a 6-month old baby to Alaska is exhausting. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. It's also exciting, exhilarating, engaging, endless fun, and an enormous challenge. Apparently only e-words apply.

Our flight to Seattle was largely uneventful. Bry fell asleep within minutes of takeoff and we were lucky enough to have an extra (unpaid for) seat between us where he could rest, lulled by the gentle roar of a couple of big airplane engines. If only there were some way to transport those within hearing range of his crib at home. Hmm...

Did you know there's an extra fee for checking a baby?

Steve and I highly recommend Sun Country Airlines, if only for the entertaining in-flight safety cards. This is how you assume a brace position:

There was not, unfortunately, a ballerina sitting next to us.

And here are proper procedures for exiting the plane:

OK, seems straightforward enough.

Watch out for the guy in the purple tux, though.

Upon boarding the giant ship, we foolishly hoped that the gentle rocking motions of an ocean vessel at sea would further lull Bry into a state of drowsy complacency. This only demonstrated our serious underestimation of the Bry's skills at evading naps. Two days and three time zones later we entered guerrilla warfare mode at nap time. Suffice to say that much of Bry's shuteye time was spent in very close proximity to his mom. Actually, on his mom. Ahem. His sleep never really did regulate itself very well. For a chronically overtired baby he did quite well, charming the pants off of the older (wiser? more mature? more retired?) cruising set with his open-mouthed grins. Sadly, he was also a favorite of many of the crew, some of whom had been at sea for 7-8 months without seeing their children back home in Indonesia and the Philippines.

Exhibit A

The scenery as we cruised through the inner passage was amazing. We saw gorgeous mountain ranges and even pulled up right next to Margerie Glacier as giant chunks of ice broke off and fell into the ocean (aka calved).

Random pretty mountain.

One real-life glacier.

There were also rumored to be whales visible from the ship. However, I failed to glimpse a single tail (see: guerrilla naptime above).

We made stops in Juneau, Sitka, and Ketchikan (or as my dad liked to say, "Catch-as-you-can"). In Juneau, we left Bry behind with the G-rents to take a helicopter tour of nearby glaciers. We (actually the pilot) landed on one of the glaciers where we got to sample some glacier water (yes, it was cold) and hunt for glacier rocks (luckily they moved pretty slowly).

Is there such a thing as glacier-eye view?

The pilot assured us he totally knew how to fly one of these things.

There are more tales to tell. Mostly they revolve around food, since we were after all, on a cruise. However, they'll have to wait because it's way past my bedtime. So consider this story To Be Continued...