Ro has a handful of nicknames; Ro, Robot, Roboat, Panda Ro (Momma G's favorite), Sleepy, Stinky, Sweetie, Baby Doll, Babe, and the most recent addition - Man Cub. We (mostly me - and Ro since he has to do what I want to do) have been digg'n the Disney Channel on Pandora lately. I've surprised myself at how much I've enjoyed the songs from The Jungle Book. I have never seen the movie...and I never had the desire to watch it. That is until recently. Anyway, that's where Man Cub is derived from. Wyatt started calling Ro it first...and then I followed suit.
Our little Man Cub is becoming more and more adventurous. As compared to his usual self. We can tell that he desperately wants to crawl...but he has no idea that it is crawling that he wants to do. He just gets frustrated when he's stuck at point A and wants to get to point B. Usually he just lunges himself forward as he's sitting on the ground. He does do a lot of standing - but then, that's nothing new. Since the day he was born, every time we pick him up, he stretches his feet straight below him with his knees locked. He is slowly learning how to pull himself up onto things, though he's still in the preliminary stages of doing that. And if we stand him in front of things - like the coffee table, or the railings on his crib - he'll use those to shuffle himself side-to-side. So, we'll see if our Man Cub decides to walk before he decides to crawl.
Ro is officially a sleeping-through-the-night baby. I knew it. Very shortly after I wrote about my woes in the last post, Ro decided to give me a break. Hallelujah!!! Though now he's into waking up early. Or earlier than I want to wake up. Will I ever be satisfied?! If it's not one thing, it's another. Geesh. He's been waking up between 6:30am and 7:00am. To be truthful, I don't really mind that much. I'm just a little frustrated since I was hoping to be running, alone, at that time in the morning. In hopes to return before he wakes and before Wyatt needs to leave for school.
No doubt it's the Four-Thirty birds (as in 4:30am) that disrupt our little Man Cub's slumber. Wyatt and I "affectionately" call them the Four-Thirty birds because that's what time they start chirping. (Actually, it's closer to 5am, but what's the difference when it's that early in the morning?) It seems so convenient that they stop chirping by 7:30am. I am not kidding! It is seriously like they have an on/off switch. At 7:29am we'll hear, "chirp, chirp, chirp, chirp," and then at 7:30am it'll be dead silence. Though, they don't chirp so much as they squeak the way a window does when it's being cleaned. And there's probably hundreds of them squeaking...in the tree right outside our window. And they probably each have their own megaphone. Okay, that's a lie...the tree isn't right outside our window. It's on the other side of the parking lot.
Anyway, back to Ro. Still no recognizable consonant sounds from his lips. For a while he was making soft dinosaur noises, little "roars" if you will. It was pretty cute. But recently he's transitioned into making that gasping noise when he inhales. The noise one makes when they're surprised/appalled/shocked? It's a bit odd, but hey, whatever makes him happy!
Ro is in the process of growing his upper teeth. They pushed through the bone last week. I could tell because he was pretty fussy. Poor little Nipper (that's what Wyatt's mom likes to say). Just today they started poking through the gums. It almost looks like his incisors are on their way too. At least that's what I think...Wyatt, not so much. Who's the dentist?! Really.
Ro officially likes swim lessons! Just today as he was floating on his back, he sported a sweet little smile. And just to make sure that everyone was clear on his opinion, he smiled again at the instructor while she did some one-on-one float time with him. What a cutie! And (!) he does a great job at floating sans water wings! The teacher always complements him on what a great job he does. And just today she said that he's got it down and is ready to advance to the next class. I in turn am beaming with pride! Eventually, the point is to teach him to instinctively roll-over to his back if ever he finds himself face in the water. He's still got a ways to go... I wanted Ro to take lessons for that reason, and I also wanted him to learn to not be afraid of the water. Or rather, learn how to be confident - but cautious - in the water.
And in the spirit of "keeping it real," I thought I'd share a few things of the most evident emotion I've had since Ro's been born: GUILT. Here is a sampling of some of the things I feel guilty about since I've become a parent:
- Running with Ro
- Running without Ro
- Not giving Ro one-hundred percent of my attention during his every waking moment
- Not having "quality" interaction with Ro (i.e. reading books, singing songs, et cetera)
- Leaving Wyatt to do my "job" while I'm running/socializing/churching (note, Wyatt has never, in no way, ever eluded that he feels like he's left to do my "job.")
- Taking Ro to the grocery store
- Talking on the phone while Ro's awake
- Texting while Ro's awake
- Computering while Ro's awake
- Knowingly keeping Ro up past his nap/bedtime because we're in the midst of doing something I want to do
- Doing anything I want to do while Ro is awake (i.e. hobby)
I remember before Ro was born, before I was pregnant, I'd imagine my life with children. I imagined myself sewing while my baby sat on the floor near me, playing with its toys... Ha! That has NEVER happened! Why, because of guilt. If I ever toy with the idea of leaving Ro to himself, while I do something recreational (i.e. sewing. Dishes, laundry, and cooking don't count since they're not fun and they "need to be done."), I push it out of my mind. Mostly because of this. Let me clarify that I am not saying my religion gives me guilt. I don't feel that way in the least. Rather it's the concept that if I don't spend quality time with Ro - my children - I'm going to regret it. It's not that I don't want to spend quality time with Ro - I do. It's just that I haven't figured out how to spend quality time with a seven-month-old for eight-hours a day, seven days a week. Maybe I'll have figured it out by next post...
One last thing about Man Cub. He is not a cuddler. I remember my mom told me, before Ro was born, that my oldest brother wasn't a cuddler. And how she used to pick him up while he was asleep, just so she could hold him close without him wiggling to get out. I have thought about doing the same thing with Ro from time-to-time. Anyway, he came down with a cold a few weeks ago and was feeling pretty uncomfortable with a fever. So I stripped him down to his diaper, gave him a dose of Tylenol, and held him upright on my chest to try and help the fluids flow down. Ro resisted at first but finally gave in... I made Wyatt snap this picture because it is such a rare occasion. I guess that's another thing we can add to my guilt list; feeling slightly glad my baby was feeling ill so I could hold him close. Ro woke twenty-minutes later feeling much better. Maybe it was the medicine? I like to think it was some much needed snuggle time.
