We all scream after Ice Cream...

Matt had a great idea the other night. Let's take a walk up to the Dairy Queen (probably about a mile or so) and have an after dinner treat. It was a warm evening, so it actually sounded like a great idea. We grabbed Mister and the stroller and headed out for our evening walk. The walk up was not enjoyable and I spent a considerable amount complaining as the entire walk is up hill.

Matt got a Peanut Buster Blizzard, I got a Strawberry Lemonade Chiller and Mister got a baby cone. He was adorable eating it. His first reaction was one of great disgust and confusion about this cold stuff, but once he got a taste of it, he couldn't get enough. And of course, he was nice enough to share.

Adorable right? I know. However, the night took a terrible turn when we got home. It was about 8:15 and it was time for Mister to go to bed. We followed the typical routine, washing the face and hands, tiny teeth brushing, a story and a sippy cup of water. Things were looking up - - until we got to the crib. Somewhere between story time and hitting the sheets, the ice cream was in full effect. He was running laps around his crib and grabbing the crib rail and jumping up and down. He even ended up launching himself across the crib because he bounced so hard! I sat in the rocking chair, waiting for the sugar rush to wear off, only to have him play peek-a-boo with me between the crib rails and then he'd throw his pacifief or stuffed animals at me when I wouldn't respond! It was so hard not to laugh at him! I tried leaving the room a couple of times which just created an uproar and filled the house with tiny screams! As soon as I'd come back into the room...all giggles and smiles. Bascially, his oh so sweet face from the picture above, was slowly turning into:

I hope the red demon eyes are showing up here....

FINALLY, at 10:00, he crashed. And he must have crashed hard because he wasn't up until nearly 7:30 the next morning. Now, why can't he do that on the weekends?

We all scream after Ice Cream!

Matt had a great idea the other night. Let's take a walk up to the Dairy Queen (probably about a mile or so) and have an after dinner treat. It was a warm evening, so it actually sounded like a great idea. We grabbed Mister and the stroller and headed out for our evening walk. The walk up was not enjoyable and I spent a considerable amount complaining as the entire walk is up hill.

Matt got a Peanut Buster Blizzard, I got a Strawberry Lemonade Chiller and Mister got a baby cone. He was adorable eating it. His first reaction was one of great disgust and confusion about this cold stuff, but once he got a taste of it, he couldn't get enough. And of course, he was nice enough to share.

Adorable right? I know. However, the night took a terrible turn when we got home. It was about 8:15 and it was time for Mister to go to bed. We followed the typical routine, washing the face and hands, tiny teeth brushing, a story and a sippy cup of water. Things were looking up - - until we got to the crib. Somewhere between story time and hitting the sheets, the ice cream was in full effect. He was running laps around his crib and grabbing the crib rail and jumping up and down. He even ended up launching himself across the crib because he bounced so hard! I sat in the rocking chair, waiting for the sugar rush to wear off, only to have him play peek-a-boo with me between the crib rails and then he'd throw his pacifief or stuffed animals at me when I wouldn't respond! It was so hard not to laugh at him! I tried leaving the room a couple of times which just created an uproar and filled the house with tiny screams! As soon as I'd come back into the room...all giggles and smiles. Bascially, his oh so sweet face from the picture above, was slowly turning into:

I hope the red demon eyes are showing up here....

FINALLY, at 10:00, he crashed. And he must have crashed hard because he wasn't up until nearly 7:30 the next morning. Now, why can't he do that on the weekends?

"You were nearly down a grandchild..."

The words I told my Mother last Friday. The conversation went a little like this:

Mom: "So, how are things up there" (After she gets done telling me that it's been 80 degrees and sunny in FL)

Me: "Well, you were nearly down a grandchild last night."

Mom: "What?! What happened?"

Me: "I nearly threw him out the window last night"

It's true. I was contemplating how hard I'd need to throw him to launch him far enough so that he'd land on the lawn instead of the deck or the concrete, not to mention getting out of the window. You see, he's usually a great sleeper. However, he's taken a turn for the worst.

I shouldn't complain. But I will.

He's been sleeping through the night since he was about 3.5 months old. *starting throwing stones* He's had a few minor set backs when he was teething or sick, but for the most part, those only last a day or so. However, the last 5 nights, he's been consistantly getting up at 12:30 - 1:00 AM and being inconsolable. We've tried everything. We've taken his temp, given him tylenol, dressed him warmer, dressed him cooler, fed him, gave him a nuk, put Orajel on his teeth, cuddle, rock, sing, walk....I even took him outside for a little while to cool off when he was crying so hard he was sweating. He'll calm down long enough, just to start up again. Oooooh, is it wearing on the Momma's patience.

I've been trying REALLY hard to remember that he can't communicate his needs and crying is all he got, but is it really THAT serious?! I'm at a loss.

Happy Birthday!

My wee baby is one!! I can't believe it. Everyone tells you how quickly the first year will go by. I knew that it would, but I never could have imagined how awesome it would be to see how MUCH he changes in a year. He started as this wrinkly little thing (I gave birth to Benjamin Button! - I believe this is what I said shortly after birth) and is now a toddeling little man!

I woke up super early today (hence being on here at 5:00 AM), and it may sound cheesey, but I went into Marcus' room just to look at him while he slept. I quickly ran out since he started to wiggle and I didn't want to wake him up so early. But in the few seconds I was there, I felt a huge swelling of pride. This is MY little boy and I think he is the coolest ever.

I was reminscing last night about what I was doing a year ago. It seems like it was ages ago. Imagining all of the condom and KY Jelly commercials that were on in the middle of the night while laboring, and watching a Harrison Ford marathon on Spike! TV in between the commercials for "Girls Gone Wild". I had Matt, my Mom and my Dad all with me. Dad was going to leave shortly before Marcus was born, but I guilted him into staying. I said, "Dad, you're really going to miss the birth of your first grandson?". Worked like a charm. I can still remember how excited Matt was when he got to hold his son for the first time. The first day was really a whirlwind. Not only because I had just had my baby, but I had a million visitors. The front desk just started pointing people down the hall and saying, Room 327, to anyone coming in with baby gifts, assuming it was for us. Looking back, I wish I would have waited until the 2nd day to have people come. Not because I didn't like seeing everyone, but because I was so tired by the end of the day. It was ridiculous.

I remember being so afraid of leaving the hospital. I couldn't believe that they were actually letting me take him home. I wanted to stay there forever so that I could have help with this new baby. I hadn't taken care of a baby since my cousins were little, and they are teenagers now. Talk about a shock! The first night, we had to have my MIL come and save us because we couldn't get him to sleep. I'm pretty sure I cried on the floor many a time.

We have a busy weekend with all of his parties and whatnot, but I'm very excited to be able to share this time with everyone.I don't know how excited Matt is, but Marcus will only turn 1 once, so we're going to make it fun!!!

2...Weeks until his 1st birthday

Holy Crap. Seriously - it cannot be a year. It simply cannot be.

I know that everyone says the first year goes by so quickly - and I honestly didn't believe them, especially at first. The first three months were the longest months of my life. I was off of work, and had this small thing that seemed so foreign to me. Time seemed to stand still - days and nights were the same - and I couldn't wait to go back to work.

When I finally went back to work, I felt disconnected at first, and finally got back in the grind. I was never so excited to go back to work. Pumping sucked....literally and in the way I mean. I dreaded going to the "barn" everyday...I managed to keep doing it for another 3 months. I struggled SO much to make the decision to stop, I won't list all those reasons here, but I was ridden with guilt.

Now, that he's almost one. I would give anything in the world to stay home with him. As much as a cherish the few hours I get with him when I get home, I want so badly to wake up with him, make him lunch, play with him, watch his little body and mind grow. I have a bunch of pictures on my cubical wall of him, and just seeing his little smiling face helps make it through the day.

However, looking back on this year, it has been the craziest year of my life. In 2008, when I got married, got pregnant and bought a house, I thought that was the busiest year of my life, but I was sadly mistaken. 2009 was by far, the most life changing and busiest year of my life. It's AMAZING to see how much he has grown, not only physically but psychologically in a year. I don't feel that I learn much in one year, but he has gone from only knowing how to cry, eat, poop and sleep - - to being able to feed himself, roll, crawl, walk, babble, smile, laugh, and interact.

Do I have baby fever? Yes sir I do. I want to wait to have another until 2011, but we'll see what happens.