Smooth Move(s), Mama.

*Disclaimer - those with weak stomachs should proceed with caution.

Oh, man, doctor's appointments can be brutal.

We took Ethan in today for his 9 month check up. The experience was probably doomed from the beginning, as his appointment was scheduled for 4:00. Those of you who are familiar with my color-coded, spreadsheet-worthy, regimented sleep schedule (and really, who among you haven't memorized it?) know that Ethan's afternoon nap starts at 3:30. Sharp(ish). So why, you may ask, did we schedule the appointment for 4:00? It's definitely not because that time is best for my schedule. Surely I didn't choose my wants and needs over those of my baby.

Not me.

As one could predict, 4:00 came and went, as did 4:10, 4:20, and 4:30, and we were still sitting in the waiting room (one of us spent those thirty minutes eyballing everyone who coughed, obsessing about swine flu... guess which parent that was). We had done everything but stand on our heads to keep Ethan from a major meltdown. For the record, when he's tired Ethan is not amused by an aquarium full of fish, a handful of Cheerios, Mama's silly faces, or those toys that EVERY pediatrician's office has with the wooden beads that you push along the twisted wires. Harried and out of ideas, I finally went up to the receptionist and asked how much longer the wait was. Three people were still ahead of us. Yikes.

I explained that we only had a few minutes before my baby would turn the peaceful, fish-tank-bubbling ambient sounds of the waiting room into the background track of a horror movie, and begged that she do whatever she could to move things along. After not so subtly suggesting that it was somehow our fault for choosing the 4:00 appointment time (a comment that my rightfully-so perturbed husband couldn't let slip by without a justified retort), she said she would see what she could do. We were called a few minutes later. It's a good thing, too, because I had already decided that I would move closer to the reception window if Ethan started wailing.

The nurse came in right away to weigh (23 lbs.) and measure (29 in.) him, and assured us that the doctor would be in shortly. She was. As usual, she had glowing reviews about Ethan's development, and baby big boy got a clean bill of health. There was only one more hurdle left - the most dreaded one of all - a needle. Well, two needles, to be exact. In addition to an immunization (yes, I do work with kids with autism, and yes, we did decide to vaccinate our child), he also needed a blood test. One "simple" finger prick later and Ethan's little baby hand was gushing an adult amount of blood. While he was screaming, the nurse fumbled with the bandage before giving up and asking me to apply pressure instead. She moved on to the shot, which was met with the same amount of crying, albeit a lot less gory. His finger still bleeding, she finally applied a band-aid and rushed from the room. We followed quickly behind.

Now a fully 90 minutes past nap time, battle-worn and hungry, Ethan was loaded into the car. I hesitated for a moment, deciding whether or not it would be a good idea to take off his bandage for the ride home. What was the bigger risk - blood on the car seat, or an ingested band-aid? I chose to keep it on, which was probably the wrong call... within two minutes of pulling out of the parking lot I heard the sound of what I would later learn was my baby sucking all of the blood out of his band-aid. Ew.

Hey, at least it was organic.

To the Beach, Okay?

Can anyone besides Ryan identify that quote? Anyone?

My King Prawn Muppet-adoring husband (Google it, people!) suggested we escape the heat wave by venturing out to Baker Beach on Sunday. For the very first time, Ethan watched the waves crash on the shore, smelled the salty air, and ate the felt the sand between his fingers. He seemed fascinated with the new sights and sounds, and squealed with delight when the water washed over his feet.







The sun, surf, and sand made for one super spectacular day!

Round and Round He Goes...

Sure, he may look sweet and innocent
with a childlike curiosity for his surroundings
but do not be fooled, this baby is a MONSTER
who leaves in his wake a path of destruction
because that's how he rolls. Literally.

Babies Look Cute Dressed As Old Men

I realized that I haven't done an Ethan stats update in a while, so here's a quick run-down:

- Weighs at least 22 lbs. (as of last weigh in about two weeks ago) and is at least 27 inches long (as of last measurement two months ago)
- Has had his diaper changed more than 1560 times (and yes, fellow mommies, my husband DOES do diapers and is responsible for changing at least 1/2 of those!)
- Is not crawling yet, but can roll across rooms to get anywhere he wants to be (will employ snazzy 3-point turns if he needs to change directions)
- Doing lots of babbling, and frequently refers to Ryan as "Da-Da" (then again, I am also referred to as Da-Da... and so is Max... and the occasional preferred inanimate object...)
- Is eating a ton of different foods, his favorites being anything orange (sweet potatoes, carrots, squash, etc.)
- Has four teeth, two on top, and two on bottom (and perhaps more coming in - lots of drooling and finger chewing going on)
- Is starting to play with other babies by reaching out to touch them, handing them toys, and accepting toys handed to him (oh, and pulling hair - we're working on that one.)
- Laughs, laughs, laughs all the time, especially at ANYTHING that Ryan does (apparently he already realizes what a goofball his father is)
- Super good buds with Max, and loves to pet him, pull on his tail, and grab his paws (much to Max's chagrin)
- Is the apple of his mommy's eye, and the subject of his daddy's photography (though this is probably not news to loyal blog readers, it does act as a nice segue to the following image)