The Waffle Thief

Sometime while I was sleeping last week, Liam grew up.

He has more hair on his head every day and we’re coming to realize that he will probably be a blond child like his dad rather than a life-long brunette like his mama. His hair is really fine and it’s getting longer on top. For a while it was just a handful of stray inch-and-a-halfers, now it’s this little tuft right on top of his head and I call it his fuzzy ducky hair.

On the day he became five months old, I decided to start him on solids a.s.a.p. when he reached for my plate and nearly stole my waffles. Less than twenty-four hours later, he was happily, hungrily (and, at first, bewilderingly) sucking down organic rice cereal mixed with breastmilk. Five days later he tried applesauce and has not turned back. Tomorrow we go for the carrots. In his near future are bananas and green beans. (All organic- that’ll be another post.)

He got really excited when he saw the bowl and tiny spoon and realized it was for him…


After his first taste, he wasn’t sure what to think (or do)…


Once I started saying “Yum, yum, yum!” to him like I sometimes do while he’s nursing or having a bottle, he got the hang of it…




But he still wanted to know, “Mama, am I doing this right?”


Since he started eating solids, I swear he has gotten taller and stronger. He’s sitting up better with less of our help, and wobbles less when we help him stand.
Why, just this afternoon, after more than a month of tireless/tiresome efforts, he finally rolled all the way over, from back to belly, without getting his arm stuck under him! Gabe and I congratulated him and he just looked at us like, “What, it’s no biggie. I could have done that before, if I really wanted to.” He’s done it twice since, and he looks a little more triumphant for it.

He’s napping peacefully right now in his bouncer, his pacifier gone forgotten between his lips, his head tilted slightly toward the late day light coming in the windows. He really has an exquisite face, and from here his profile is just perfect. He has Gabe’s nose and chin, there is no doubt about that. He has long eyelashes like mine. He’s not as chubby now that he moves around a lot on his own, and his torso and arms are long, soft and strong. His legs are long and strong too but have retained those yummy baby rolls, probably until he starts crawling and walking. His hands- oh, his hands! His hands are wide, his fingers long, his skin satiny. Don’t be fooled by how delicate they sound; he has a kung-fu grip.

And his feet. I could write a whole blog entry about his feet.

Two or three evenings ago we were sitting on the couch and I was chatting to him to distract him from the fact that I was clipping his toenails. Out of nowhere he started laughing. Not his short, abrupt little baby giggles and squeals but full-on, decidedly non-baby, full-belly laughter. I wasn’t even tickling him. Apparently his toes are hilarious. And he kept doing it! A couple times he stopped when I cracked up, and a couple times he laughed again because I did. It was the most pure, beautiful sound I have ever heard and I will never forget the joyous look on his face or the way Gabe came running in from the kitchen when it happened.

I’m seeing Liam more lately not just as who he is but who he will be. I can envision him as a toddler now that his facial expressions are numerous and he is more interactive with his surroundings. I am seeing that I created and gave birth to a flawless creature who, just by existing, will become impure but remain beautiful and continue to actually make me feel new again just by spending time with him. He’s truly lovely.

Warning: TMI ahead, if you are squeamish, sensitive, or private about your body or other people's bodies.

On a strictly Nora note, I am sick. This is my fourth day home sick, and tomorrow will be my fifth and hopefully last. I’ve had this irritation in my throat now for a few weeks and it culminated in the middle of this past week to swelling, pain, coughing, eye-watering headache, congestion, fatigue and body aches. I actually have a burst capillary in my eyelid from coughing so hard. And ladies, all of this while suffering with my period. Yes, suffering. This month marks the thirteenth year of my monthly handicap. (“Visitor” sounds far too friendly.) As a woman I can see that the menstrual cycle is actually a beautiful symbol of fertility and life but during my five to seven (used to be eight to nine, sheesh) days of gushing blood, intense cramping, dizziness, exhaustion, etc., it’s hard to really focus on how lucky I am to be a woman. Being anemic really only bothers me outright during my period because I lose so much blood. I can actually feel the iron deficiency. It makes me want to swallow metal. So yes, I am confident in saying I suffer and not feel as though I am exaggerating.

This last part was just wanting to complain, I really just wanted to update about Liam.

xoxo