As of August 2, 2011, I have two children in swim lessons.
When Butter was about five months old, my mother in law suggested we think about putting him in swim lessons. M started when he was about six months old, and she tells a great story about him jumping into a pool after his brother and managing to swim himself all the way to the side, despite being only two. [If you know my MIL, ask her. She’s more than willing to share.]
Butter didn’t start until he was eight months old [and unfortunately I can’t find the pictures right now], but he’s still taking lessons even though he sometimes complains about going.
This was him on Tuesday:
Yes, he’s on the kick board all by himself.
I’m putting a disclaimer in here for Juli, my sister from another mister. J, this next picture might scare you half to death:
He’s swimming/floating on his back. All by himself. [His teacher is not far away, though.]
Little Bear had his very first lesson yesterday.
[That’s their teacher, Miss Kay.e]
Just chillin’, suckin’ on my thumb.
Miss Kaye said Little Bear did great. She laughed because he stuck his own face in the water and blew bubbles at her.
My babies are growing up.
. . . And I feel like I’m maybe going a lot more insane than I thought I would be at this point.
Little Bear is just 3 days away from matching the length of a stay of a NICU baby that’s featured on the wall leading up to the nursery. As a side note, I should take a picture of the walls leading up to the NICU – I guess in 1998, they took updated pictures of a few kids who’d been there and put them up, along with updates on their conditions. One of them is a year or two younger than me.
There’s still no word on when he’s going to come home. The only thing he really has to do is take all of his feeds by bottle or breast and eat on demand for a day or two before they’ll let him come home. I get more and more anxious the longer he’s in there, and I know that’s normal. It just feels like everything is SO close to being within reach and I’m on pins and needles waiting for the magic words. [“Ready to take him home?”]
Butter’s been doing so amazing with all of this. He asks about Little Bear and points out pictures of him on my cell phone. He asks to go see his brother occasionally, but he doesn’t care for the face mask they make him wear, so he’s only ever there for 5 minutes or so. Now he’s getting his molars and has a constantly running nose and a cough that won’t go away, plus he’s running a mild fever sometimes. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. I don’t know if the two go hand in hand, but Little Bear’s been sleeping dry during naps and he’s gone two nights in a row [so far] of sleeping dry.
In other news, Little Bear nursed for the first time yesterday. I’ve been struggling so hard with pumping and making sure he gets as little formula as possible and I finally feel like we’re turning a corner. I went back to the hospital last night at 9:30 and he nursed again for me until he coughed and decided he wanted to scream at my boob every time I tried to get him to latch again.
So it’s been 19 days since Little Bear was born and admitted to the NICU. There are 19 days until Christmas. I’m really, really hoping it’s not another 19 days before he gets to come home.
Or rather, I feel like someone is repeatedly stabbing a spork into my left eye. Let me tell you, it’s a fabulous way to wake up in the morning. A combination of Tylenol and caffeine are not helping. Twitter has shared with me (thank you, @tehamy and @aPSUmama) that it might be allergies making me feel sporky, so I’m going to attempt Claritin and/or Benedryl tonight.
This is probably the worst I’ve felt – other than pure exhaustion – this entire pregnancy. I had some early nausea, but it was mostly in the evenings, same as it was with Butter. Wait, I changed my mind. The worst I felt was the two weeks leading up to the positive pregnancy test when I thought I was dying of a cold/allergies/some kind of sore throat/nausea/etc.
Seems like the allergy bug has skipped its favorite person in our house this year. Husband has been as free of allergies as I’ve ever seen him since we met in 2003. Butter and I have decided we don’t like Husband very much, because the two of us are suffering.
There isn’t much else going on in our world right now. My first OB appointment is on Friday. I still haven’t called to schedule Butter’s two year check up, but it’s on my to-do list. And really, who told him he was allowed to turn two anyway? I’ve been to my first Phillies game this year (May 3 – remember the night the kid was tasered on the field?) and Husband and I are thinking about going to see the Phillies play as the away team against the Blue Jays at Citizen’s Bank Park (because of the G20 Summit, the games are being moved to Philadelphia). Husband is plugging along in his new job as General Manager of the restaurant he’s working in. Butter is too smart for his own good (he can count almost all the way to ten and knows most of his letters on sight).
Life is good.