10 Months.

Dear Carter,

You’re ten months old today! We’ve hit double digits! I was feeding you this morning and I just can’t believe you’re such a little boy. My sweet baby is gone. Well, sometimes I still see glimpses of a sweet baby… when you’re asleep. When you’re awake, you are wild and active and LOUD. To be honest, you’ve been a bit of a tyrant this month. I can’t blame you, it seems like you’ve been teething for three weeks straight. You did finally bust 2 new teeth through, which means you have a grand total of 6 razor sharp teeth to bite me with. The other issue, which seems to frustrate you more than anything, is that you just want to get up and run around! You look at me like “MOM! I’m not a BABY! I want to PLAY!” and chomp on that remote! And steal your cell phone! And pull Stella’s tail! And eat that paper!

We celebrated your first St. Patrick’s Day and your first Easter in the last month. Neither were too monumental for you. I will mention that Easter grass was a big hit. More importantly, both occasions gave me a really great opportunity to take adorable pictures of you. Then again, I use every day for that particular activity.

Your curiosity for life and the world around you is incredible to watch. You are incredibly observant and alert to the world around you. You have a mild obsession with heater vents. Whenever the heater comes on, whether you’re at home or Grammy’s house or somewhere else, you look around to find the vent and stare at it. I’m not sure what you think is going to come out of it. Maybe a puppy? Speaking of puppies, you love animals. You still adore Stella and screech joyfully when she’s around. Our morning routine now involves some Stella time. After I feed you, I sit you up and let Stella up on the bed. It’s usually a good 2-5 minutes of extra time before you grow unbearably restless again. When we visited your new baby cousin Sawyer you were quite delighted by their cats. You laughed at them and waved exuberantly. We saw a lizard in the yard a few weeks ago and as soon as you spotted him your eyes followed him until he scurried away. Bunnies, birds, you love them all. We took a trip to the Wild Animal Park last weekend and you were much more interested in checking it out, despite your general displeasure and the teething situation. We took you through the butterfly jungle and you were almost still, mesmerized by all the movement and colors. While I was holding you, a butterfly landed on my arm and you tried so frantically to grab it you just about launched yourself out of my arms.

You love music, both listening to and playing it. It’s one of the only ways we can get you to actually calm down sometimes. You’ve expanded your repertoire outside of just rap and hip hop and now you like just about everything. And you DANCE! I love when you dance. It’s more of a silly torso wiggle, not all that different from how I dance, but it’s precious. Speaking of music, and more specifically noise, you’re still very loud but your sounds now include a few more words and real noises along with the babbling. You mimic our sounds and noises, which is just about the cutest thing ever. You have a book with a car on one page and when I read you the book, I always pointed to the car and told you a car says vroom vroom. A few weeks ago we were reading and when I flipped to the car, you pointed and said “bbbrrrmm bbbrrrmmm” completely unprompted. I proceeded to flip the pages about 20 times just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke, but sure enough you are all about “bbbrrrrmmm bbbbrrrrmmm.” You still shriek and yell and make this weird howl/scream that actually hurts your throat.

You’re still not consistently crawling, though you do get up on your knees every once in a while. Mostly you belly crawl and pull yourself across the floor. It is the most frenetic chaotic movement I’ve ever seen, but you’re still getting where you need to go. You’re pulling yourself up on your crib too, making naps and bedtime even more of a challenge. When you finally fall asleep after much thrashing, you end up in the craziest positions. I wish I could take pictures of you, but I’m not taking the risk of waking you up.

You love your mama lately. And I’m not even bribing you! Yet, but the time is coming, we both know this. It warms my heart so much to see you looking for me and watching me. You love your daddy too, and your dog, and your sophie, and your bathtub… hmm, I’m suddenly feeling like I’m not all that special. In all seriousness, you are fiercely love those you know and adore. Everyone else, well, they better watch out. You’re extremely watchful in situations you’re not quite sure of, and you’ve been known to glare at strangers. Mostly men, but you love the ladies. And the ladies love you, especially those over 60 or so.

Your hair has reached the peak of its ridiculousness. It sticks straight up no matter what I do. Which is especially funny because now I have all this new post-baby hair growing in, so mine sticks straight up too. Strangers stop us to tell me how adorable your hair is. It is incredibly precious (on a baby, not a college student. Keep that in mind for later). Your eyes are still blue, and I think they’re staying that way. It’s still a complete wonder to me that I have a child who looks anything like me, but you picked up all the Hood traits.

You love to laugh. We’re not always sure what you’re laughing at, but it’s always the highlight of my day. Yes, even when you’re laughing because you just bit me or smacked me in the face or something along those line. Sometimes you get yourself so worked up that you have tears streaming down your face and you have to gasp for air. You’re just a happy kid, most of the time with the exception of this month’s tyranny. There’s no sweeter music to my ears than your sweet, sweet laughter. Luckily, you are incredibly ticklish, just like your mama. Tickling you and hearing those beautiful peals of laughter is like a drug for me. There’s nothing like it. I can’t even tell you how much you and your laugh have blessed me in the last ten months.

Love,

Mama

Easter.

Amidst the chaos of our lives, I'm so thankful for Easter. Yes, for what it means- I am eternally and always thankful for a savior who came to save the world, my own broken and sinful self included. But the thing about life is that it just keeps marching on and if you don't slow down it is far too easy to forget about the blessings. Days like Easter, the holiday and celebration aspect even aside from the meaning, make it impossible to forget the undeserved blessings I have, many, many blessings. I'm so thankful for a God of grace who has given me so much that I don't deserve.

I hope you all had a fantastic Easter.

A win.

Last night, Carter munched on some organic chicken and sweet potatoes, followed by some all natural green veggie puffs. Seth and I dined on Florentine Pork Roast, butternut squash I made myself from a real life squash! (I have the burn marks to prove it... curse my impatience) and brussel sprouts, accompanied by sparkling apple pomegranate juice.

I won't tell you what we had the night before, but at least last night was a success in the healthy eating realm. And then I ate some Robin's Eggs loaded with calories and chemicals. In moderation, of course.

Nine months, take 2.

Dear Carter,

Today you’re nine months old. Nine months is so old! In nine months, you went from a tiny spec to a hefty 9 pound newborn with a gigantic head. A lot can happen in 9 months, and looking at you, it’s hard to believe where we were 9 months ago.

That means you’ve officially been an outside baby longer than you were an inside baby. And my goodness, you have picked up some new skills in this ninth month of your life. It’s almost hard to believe you couldn’t do these things a mere 4 weeks ago.

First there was clapping. You love clapping, and we love watching you clap. You haven’t quite figured out appropriate times for clapping, but that’s okay. It’s nice to get applause complete with a happy grinning baby anytime. Then came finger foods. You can now deftly pick something up with your fingers and delicately place it in your mouth and chomp on it. This is a big step from smashing something into your mouth with a flat palm. Also, it means we’re in big trouble. As I write this we’re seriously contemplating a robot vacuum and steam mop to better prepare for you sticking every single thing imaginable in your mouth because if you want it and can envision moving toward it, it is for sure going in your mouth. You wave now, but you’re moody about it. Some people get a wave sometimes when you feel like it. You also reach for us to pick you up. When you’ve grown bored with sitting or laying or breathing, you want to pull yourself up. This happened all of the sudden one day. You were sitting on our bed and your dad absent mindedly stuck out his hands for you to play with. Five seconds later you were on your feet with no help. Your father and I realized at that moment that we are in very large buckets of trouble. You are so very dissatisfied with your lack of mobility. Even the thought of crawling seems dismal to you. You want to walk run. ASAP. You’re almost starting to say a few words. Mostly up, mama, and occasionally something vaguely similar to “bye-bye” will make an appearance, complete with the wave!

Some new tricks are not as fun (but secretly still entertaining). I wonder sometimes if we’re raising a baby or wrestling an alligator. Diaper changes require restraints now. Seriously, we strap you to the table, and you still flip from under the strap. You’re especially mobile with your dad. I’m not entirely sure the force of your kicking is normal baby behavior. You lift your legs as high as they will possibly go and THUMP them ridiculously hard on the changing table. The neighbors may even hear it. When I feed you, you’re a ball of energy with limbs all over the place. Your foot usually ends up wedged under my chin or resting on my shoulder. And you bite. Worse still is that you think biting is funny. I try to limit my reaction because, just like your father, you like to get a reaction out of me. So I very calmly look at you and say “Carter, no biting. That’s not nice.” Every time I do that, you proceed to laugh. Typically, it’s a somewhat evil sounding laugh. Your dad can verify, I’m not making this up.

You love food and the eating process. We rarely have to coax you to finish a jar of food or try something you don’t like. Even peas and squash, which are not your favorite, are usually gobbled up. Every once in a while I give you something you don’t like and you gag yourself and stick out your tongue for me to retrieve said offensive food. I gave you a pea a couple weeks ago and you looked at me like I was trying to poison you. But most things, especially puffs, all fruit, and most vegetables, you love.

You also love sweatshirt strings and anything else you can pull on. Fan cords are especially tempting. At some point your dad thought you might like to pull on the fan cord. He was right, you love it. The problem is that your dad is almost a foot taller than me, so he can lift you up to the fan cord no problem. I have to hoist you into the air while you proceed to explore the fan cord, bat at it a few times, hold it between your fingers, and eventually maybe pull on it while I’m trying not to drop you or fall over.

The most heartwarming thing has happened over the last month: you and Stella are finally buddies! She’s starting to like you and is usually close by when you’re eating. She’s even started to follow you and plop down by you when you’re just playing on the floor with no food involved. But you take the relationship to a new level. You absolutely love her! When you spot her you shriek with delight. When you hear the distinct jingle of her collar in your vicinity, your head pops up and you spastically search for her. Last week you woke up around 2am and as I carried you through the hallway you spotted her in the dark (not sure how, she’s a black dog in a dark house) and were beyond delighted. You were flailing your arms, kicking your legs, and joyfully screeching. That in itself was enough to warm my heart and ease the pain of being up at 2am.

We watched a lot of Olympic sports over the last month, and every time I watched an award ceremony and watched someone freshly adorned with a medal as their country’s anthem played, I thought that someday, that could be you. If you could avoid skeleton, your mother would be so obliged as that seriously freaks me out. You can be whatever you want to be, and you have an amazing opportunity to be born in a country where we have freedom and unmatched opportunities. You could be an Olympian, or a musician in the Symphony, or an acclaimed author, or maybe the President. I don’t know where your path will lead you, but I promise that just being yourself, just being Carter, is more than any accomplishment you can put in your biography.

I think we’re right on the cusp of chaos with you. I’m already planning your first birthday party. In another month or two you’ll be crawling, talking, maybe walking. So for today, right now, we’re savoring every still moment, be they ever so rare, reveling in every new skill you master, and celebrating you at every milestone.

Love,

Mama

Nine months.

Dear Carter,

Today you are nine months old. However, the time I planned to spend finishing your Nine-Month letter was reallocated to soothing, rocking, and singing you to sleep. For over an hour. While you screamed. Time change, I loathe you.

So the letter will be coming soon.

Love,

Your very exhausted mother

More fun with robots.

I was telling Seth that I'm creeped out by roombas roaming the house while we sleep. I don't know why, it's just weird, okay?!

This is the resulting chat:

Seth: i think you need some help. the roomba isn't out to get you

Rachel: who are you?! you're the one who told our 4 month old son not to trust robots! [background: one of the words in Carter’s 100 first words book is robot]

Seth: it's a double-edged sword.

roomba is fine

until it learns to combine forces with other robots

he's smart

other robots are dangerous

as long as they stay separate, we're ok

as if I need more cleaning products.

Preface: I have a Dyson. I love my Dyson. I also have a hand vacuum. I use my hand vacuum to clean my Dyson. It’s a sickness really.

Since life here in Family Jobin is insane (see below re: floods, MRI, baby who won’t sleep, two full-time working parents, etc.) we've been reevaluating our time and process improving our routines. We thought long and hard about a housekeeping service and decided in the end that it was just way too much money. But we are thinking about getting a little robot friend to help the Dyson out.

the roomba.

now, imagine me singing that in the same style as the simpsons intro... the roooombaaaaaaaaaaaaaa !

With a dog who sheds more than a small rodent daily and a baby who is currently rolling all over the floor and about to start crawling, we’re going to have to increase the frequency of our vacuuming or get someone else to do it. I vote the latter. So I’ve been doing some research.

I have never been more amused by consumer reviews:

· “Pros: Cleans Willingly.”

o That’s just a weird thing to say about a cleaning product

· “As for teasing Helen, it's tempting to rearrange the furniture or put obstacles in his path while he's working, just to see how he copes.”

o Okay, one, you name your vacuum. That’s weird, but I do it too so I guess I understand. Two, you’re taunting your vacuum. That’s weirder. And why is your male robot named Helen?

· “Robbie even cleans up peanuts that my bird throws on the floor. I turned Robbie loose in Storm's Room (My Parrot) with almost 3" high of bird seed and he cleaned it all up with me only having to empty the Dust Bin once between "Electric Broom Mode" and Vacuum mode.”

o Again, naming the vacuum. More importantly, who has THREE INCHES of bird seed on their floor?! Take out a ruler and look at the 3” mark! That guy also went on to explain that he’s taking Storm and his roomba with him on vacation in his RV.

· “It Cleans while we sleep”

o Somehow that creeps me out a little, especially since that’s the entire review. That’s all the person wrote!

I think I uncovered a weird cult of roomba enthusiasts. They all name their vacuums and embrace them as family members. Hmmm, isn’t that what robots want you to do so they can proceed to take over the world?

Eh, whatever. All I know is I want one.

8 Months.

I just realized that I never posted this letter. Oops. I blame it on sleep deprivation. Here it is!

Dear Carter,

Today you’re 8 months old and it feels like an accomplishment just that we’ve survived the last month. Something really weird happened a few weeks back. It rained, followed by a second storm. And then it rained some more. We got 7 inches of rain within a few days! This isn’t a lot for some places, places with actual weather, but we live in San Diego. 7 inches is a lot of rain for San Diego. The problem with all that rain is that it has nowhere to go so it just sits. In our case, it ran out of places to go and soaked into the house. So, for about a week we were the travelling gypsy family. We stayed with your grandparents, a few days with each. My goodness were you ever disrupted! I thought you would never get back to a normal schedule or sleep through the night ever again.

Shortly after we returned home, we threw in some more disruption to your life. You had to have an MRI at Children’s Hospital. That was not a fun day but it really could have been so much worse. You’re not yet at a stage where you could stay perfectly still for an hour while they scan your spine. You don’t even stay still when you’re asleep. So, they had to give you anesthesia and we couldn’t give you anything to eat or drink for 6 hours before. We were expecting meltdowns of monumental proportions, but you actually did really well. We walked around and played games and you chomped on toys. Toward the end you got a little fussy, but all in all it ended up okay. More importantly, the results all looked great. You are just so precious to us and we love you so, so much that the idea of having to go through surgery and all of that shook me. That was such a huge sigh of relief to hear that you were healthy.

We celebrated your first Valentine’s Day yesterday. It’s not a huge ordeal in our house, but we got to spend lots of time together as a family and that’s the best gift I could ask for.

You’re still just as loud this month as last month. You find so much joy in shrieking it’s hard not to laugh. I have to keep an eye on the windows and glasses when you really get going, just in case they all shatter.

You’ve got 4 impressive teeth now, two on the bottom and two on the top. The second top tooth just broke through yesterday. That’s kind of a crumby Valentine’s Day present if you ask me. But like always, you’re a champ. A little clingy and fussy and a lot less sleep, but we’re all surviving.

This month wore us out a little bit more than other months of our crazy life, but in a way that was a good message for us. It was a reminder to slow down and enjoy our time with you, enjoy every little thing we can. I'm trying to remember to enjoy every laugh, laugh at every shriek, and cherish every snuggle. Snuggles and quiet moments are harder to come by these days and I don't think I'll ever get enough of them!

Love,

Mama

And now we catch our breath.

It has been a crazy, crazy few weeks for us, but this morning I feel like I'm keeping up with the hamster wheel. We're back in our house, Carter's MRI is behind us (and went as well as we could have hoped, much thanks to those who prayed and encouraged us), and it's a new week. AND Carter slept well last night. I, on the other hand, could not get myself to settle down and sleep. Eh, all in all, this week is a breath of fresh air compared to the travelling circus that has been our life.

And on top of it all, we have to starve him.

When Carter was born, we, like all new parents, scoured every inch of him. And while he does have 10 fingers and 10 toes, he also has small shallow dimple at the base of his spine. At some point his pediatrician thought it might be good to check it out. Probably not a big deal, but better safe than sorry, so an ultrasound was ordered. Upon scheduling it, I was informed that Carter (who was 6 months old at the time) was too old. They only do ultrasounds for babies up to 3 months. Plus, you add all of Carter’s rolls and you get a wiggly baby and incomplete results. Back to the pediatrician we go. He still wasn’t terribly concerned, but thought it might be best to have a specialist look at it. Worst case scenario, Carter would need surgery so it’s really better just to rule that out. Plus, the alternative to the ultrasound is a sedated MRI and I was not thrilled about that option. Off to the pediatric neurosurgeon we went. To my disappointment, he recommended the MRI and it turns out the ultrasound may not have been too helpful anyway.

So, tomorrow morning Carter will asleep in an MRI machine. [excuse me while I breathe into a paper bag real quick like] Given the squirmy state of our son, this means my tiny baby (okay, really, he’s not tiny, but still!) needs an anesthesiologist. But even more terrifying, he can’t eat for at least 6 hours before. Um, I realize that someone went through many, many years of advanced specialized training to tell me this, but they clearly do not know Carter. The kid eats every 3 hours of his waking life. Our appointment is at 10am. We may or may not be able to buy ourselves some time in the car, but when we arrive at that hospital at 7:30am with a SCREAMING, ANGRY child I think someone may call CPS on us. And Carter takes anger up a notch, complete with clawing and slamming limbs. And I’ll probably be crying at that point too and more in need of sedation than Carter. And THEN he has to actually start the medical procedure. We really don’t think it’s anything to be concerned about, but we want to be sure of that. If it is something that requires surgery, it’s better to do it now.

So, if you could, please pray for us or keep us in your thoughts we would very much appreciate it.