Posts tagged Milo
Milo Chap, Month 10

10 Months. Oh Chapper Boy, your babyhood is flying by. I love watching you grow into yourself... your silly, wild, adventurous self. Your intense, passionate, determined self. Your cuddly, squishy, delicious self. It is such a deep, deep joy.

Milo is a crawling machine. He's on hands and knees now, wearing the floors out with his speed crawling. Oliver can hear him thundering down the hall, towards his room, and depending on O's mood, there is either a surge of excitement and belly laughs or a panicked and desperate "NOOOO! Chappers!!! No!!!!!.  Although Milo can crawl, and is definitely efficient, he spends most of his time on two feet. He uses anything he can get his hands on as a prop for his standing. He's started using the baby walker with help and the look of pride that spreads across that face as he propels himself down the hall is too much for my heart.

He loves to babble and has all sorts of sounds. He seems to favor some for a few days and then move on to a new sound. Today it has been "Esssssssss, Esssssss, Esssssss" all day long. He is especially vocal at meals, and has no tolerance for baby food unless there is also a little something on his tray that he can shovel into his mouth. He's now eating about 50% table food and 50% purreed baby food at each meal. Which means the length of Milo's time at the table has quadroupled, because buddy only has so many teeth, but a very hungry tummy. He loves Strawberries, Avocado (HadoCado in Oliver-speak), Cheese, Peas, Peanut Butter Crackers and Bananas... He'd rather not eat eggs or any form of meat unless it is hidden in a bite of baby food. He's taking 5-6 bottles per day. (2-4oz during the day and 6oz before bed, in the middle of the night, and at waking). He lets us know when he's ready for a bottle by crawling up to us and mouthing and licking our arm or leg or cheek, whatever he can get his mouth on and taste... it's both crazy endearing and disgusting at the same time. Which basically sums up being a boy-mom.

Speaking of the middle of the night... we are down to just one feed at night... although, the past week, there has been a resurgence of pleas for two bottles per night... but after a little love, he makes it another few hours. Most nights he takes a bedtime bottle at 6:45pm and then a middle of the night feed anywhere between 2am and 4am. His day starts anywhere between 5am and 6am... but typically it's more like 5am. To be fair, Matt still takes the early morning shift (what would I do without him!?), but if he has a late night at work, then I push through and handle the middle of the night and the 5am wake up call.  And I don't like coffee. But I wish I did. Because 5 am is unkind.

He is ready for a morning nap thee hours after waking, so I typically lay him down around 8:30 or 9am. And if we don't have anything going on in the morning he sleeps for about an hour. I wake him up at 1.5 hours because his afternoon nap gets pushed too late if he goes longer. He's ready for an afternoon nap most days around 2pm and he sleeps about two hours in the afternoon... longer if Oliver is quiet.

The fuzzy hair is now half laying down and half standing straight up depending on the recency of his bath and the amount of food he has scrubbed into his scalp. But I love the way it feels against my cheek when he's asleep on my shoulder. There will probably be real tears when it is replaced by a head of toddler hair in the coming months. Just another thing about his babyhood that I am trying to memorize each night when I lower him into his crib.

Sweet boy, you are so deeply and fiercely loved. We are treasuring these last few months of your baby days and are filled with excitement and heartache as we prepare to leave your babyhood. We are so incredibly blessed and privileged to watch you grow and develop, because it means you are healthy... but oh there are days I just want to linger in this season with you. To keep your squishy legs, and your baby coos and your grunty nose and your fuzzy head. But then you start screaming at 4am and I'm thankful that babyhood is a season. I love you... and I love sleep. And I'd love to have my cake and eat it too. You are so precious to us. You are one of us. You are part of us. You belong to us. 

Today Oliver was singing a made up song about you, called "Miwoe-- toe eater-- Sane-ders!" We would be an althougher differnt type of Sane-ders without you bubba. And our made up songs would be so vanilla without our "toe-eater".

Milo Chap, Month 9

And we blinked and nine months with this cutie pie has flown by. We can hardly believe it. Two nights ago, we were in the middle of dinner time chaos... me scooping spoonfuls of sweet potato from Milo's chin back into his mouth, and Matt breaking down exactly how many more bites of pasta Oliver needed to eat in order to get a popsicle... and I caught his eye... this man that I feel in love with almost a decade ago... and I started laughing... Our dinners look so different now than they did then... they are so much louder, so much more food lands on the floor, so many cheerios are spread across the table and are getting crunched beneath our feet... and as overstimulating as some meals (days) can be... we are in the middle of so much that we have been hoping for.

It appears that Milo has survived his fragile days, and is now giving Oliver as much trouble as Oliver gave him a few months ago. If Oliver is playing on the floor, then Milo is crawling/climbing/planking across him. For the most part, Oliver takes it good naturedly... but a brother can only handle so much and Milo just doesn't know when enough is enough. And man, is he tough He can take a tumble without even batting an eye... falling off the changing table, however, is enough to take anyone's (and everyones!) breath away. Not that that happened at our house... this morning... or that we are on concussion watch today.

Milo weighs in now at a solid 20 pounds (58th percentile) and is 28 inches tall (43rd percentile). His head continues to outpace his body (87th percentile). Over the last month, 4 more teeth sprouted (I wish it happened as gently as "sprouting.") He now has a total of six teeth and he knows how to use them. Buddy loves to eat... and can handle small bits of soft food along with his pureed baby food. Bananas and sweet potatoes remain his favorites.

He is an army crawling machine... when properly motivated by a shoestring or a stray cheerio or an open bathroom door. He very rarely gets up on hands and knees, but makes good use of his toes and elbows for scootching (mopping) the living room floor. He loves to climb on anything and everything, and pulls up to stand whenever and where ever he can.

His hair, continues to stand straight up... no amount of combing, wetting, and patting it down can tame those wild hairs. As if we would even want to tame that mane.

Sleeping is going a bit better... and by that I mean, we are no longer up for endless hours with a wide awake baby at 4 am. Not that we've done anything different. Buddy still takes a 10pm and a middle of the night bottle... what a sad day for him it will be when we start weaning him from the bottle in the coming months. This weekend we are going to try again to transition away from one of those feeds... so when you hear a great sadness coming from the South Bay in the middle of the night... its just our house, working through our nighttime issues.

As of last week, Milo has perfected the art of the shrill shriek... we hear this most often at the table, when he wants more or less of something. The pitch of that shriek is remarkable... and my ear drums are near bleeding. We've started working on a few baby signs... hoping to preserve our ear drums and empower this little soul to communicate... however, we have quite a bit of work to do on that end.

Chap, we look at you as a babe and we wonder who you will be as a toddler. We can imagine the wild, bumping, and jumping, jostling bundle of boy... we can't quite see it yet, but we can imagine it. I love this season that we are in, I love the cuddles and sleepy snuggles, and the toting you around on my hip. But I will also love, the busy, creative season of you and your brother in another year. It is my privilege, sweet boy, to rock you to sleep at night, to watch your drowsy eyes give themselves over to dreams. It is my privilege to mother you, to shelter you, to bear witness to your babyhood. You are dearly and deeply loved, son.

Milo Chap, Month 8

Here we are. Month 8. And life has become infinitely more interesting/complicated/fun over the last month, now that we have a crawling Milo Chapman. We've got a few real life hazards in the form of Oliver's tiny barn animals and marbles that hide in our carpet and the wet fists of our crawling baby.  This kid is all over the place. I frequently walk into the living room and find him halfway under the couch, laughing.

Which is basically defines his personality right now.

I remember Oliver at this age... he took his play very seriously. He studied his toys and examined the world. They say play is the work of children, and Oliver took that to heart. We'd put him in the exersaucer and he would jump. jump. jump. Focused. Steady, Keeping time. Milo on the other hand is like a jack in the box- goofy grin, arms extended bumping and jumping in all directions.

Who will you even be in another year, Milo buddy? I can't wait to watch your person unfold.

Sweet boy continues to eat three meals a day. And we are blessed with another good eater-- seriously, friends, I hear ya... we seem to be the exception to the rule. Our boys love food and can put it away. I can only imagine my grocery bill in 10 years. I'm going to need a bigger budget. And a bigger pantry. Milo loves pretty much anything set before him, with the exception of blueberries and squash. These I have to sneak in between bites of sweet potato. He's just started munching on bites of real food and loves to mash bananas and peas around his mouth. He's still only equipped with two bottom teeth, but those top gums are looking more and more swollen by the day. He's yet to master the art of the sippy cup, although few things excite him more than chewing/banging/drowning on a big boy cup.

Teething or not, this guy is a drooler, and I end up changing his clothes three times a day, because of how soaked he gets. And now that he's crawling, he's basically mopping my floors with his drool, snot, and tummy. It's not pretty.

Sleep continues to be a topic of much discussion around our house. It is not good. We worked on sleep training for an entire week... and after 7 days, he was continuing to cry for unspeakable lengths of time. Seriously. I won't even write it down because it makes me feel like a bad mom. And here's what we've concluded after reading the books, and brainstorming with mom-friends, and wrestling with sleep deprivation- what works for some babies, does not necessarily work for all babies. Grace mommas, let's have loads of grace for each other here. We are back to feeding Chap somewhere between 3am-5am. As well as giving him a dream feed at 10pm. 

But you have to know Chap, Daddy and I will have no mercy for you when you are 15 and needing to wake up at the crack of dawn for basketball practice or drum line or whatever it is you find yourself in. We will have a zero tolerance policy for whining. Because we have never been so tired for so long IN. OUR. LIVES. Because half the time, when you wake up to eat, you decide to stay awake talking and squealing in your bed for another hour or two.

He's taking two naps per day. Typically from 9am-11am and then 2-4pm. We've realized that bedtime for this guy needs to be earlier than his brother, and we get him down promptly at 7pm. This is actually perfect because it gives Oliver some much needed one-on-two time in the evening. Part of our bedtime routine has become to gather all of us into one room and sing Milo's bedtime song to him, before I give him his last bottle and a few snuggles. This guy LOVES his moment in the spotlight and literally quivers with excitement when he's the center of attention. It's basically the most adorable thing. Ever.

His favorite toys are shoelaces. And Oliver. And Oliver's toys. At this point, Oliver is fairly patient with him and tells him when "dat's not honorwing to qual (crawl) on my toys/ eat my toys/ grab my toys." I can see things escalating quickly though. Oliver's quickly learning to keep his specials up on the couch out of Harm's way and out of Harm's slobbery reach.

The boys have been sick for the better part of a month now, and I'm looking forward to warmer months and fewer kleenexs littering our living room rug. However, all this hibernating we've been doing suits me and feels cozy. All these boys and their laundry keep my hands plenty full.

 The cherry tree in our back yard is starting to bloom, the sun is starting to warm the South Bay, and we are almost back to wearing shorts most days (it's February people!). Looking forward to healthier days ahead, dragging the baby swimming pool out and live streaming Oklahoma tornado season.