A Few Likes and Dislikes

Caleb does not like to be on his tummy. (Look at his hair! It was so short! Awwwww...)

In this picture he's older, but he still dislikes the tummy. Especially my attempt to see if he wanted to crawl.
Though he may not love the tummy, he loooves the back. Caleb likes to play cards with Dad.Did I say play? I meant eat.

Speaking of things he likes to eat...

That's my boy.

Big Wide-Mouth Grin

A snapshot of what Caleb looks like when I get him up from his nap.

Because I know after that last post you wanted to see what he looked like for yourself.

Enjoy.

Sleep + Singing = One Happy Boy

I haven't posted much about life with Caleb and that is a travesty considering this blog will be a book some day. My posterity will be reading this. What will they think of me when they realize I haven't written much of anything about my daily, awe-inspiring, never-mundane life?

I don't want to find out. So today I will write about The Boy!

Here's the deal with Caleb. He is really really good. No, I mean, REALLY good. Super happy, very content, all-around easy baby.
Here's why I think he's like that.
I am the best mother EVER. EV. ER.

Ha ha! All kidding aside, what I really think keeps him Mr. Happy Baby is his inability to stay awake longer than 2 hours and my running renditions of a seemingly endless supply of show tunes.

Let's talk about the show tunes first, shall we? Who knew when I would become a mother that, when encountered with opportunities to sing lullaby's to my little one, I would break out into songs from Oliver, Les Miserables and The Sound of Music? Where did that come from? And who knew that my boy would like them so much? What does this mean? Okay, in all honesty, he doesn't just like show tunes.
He also likes The Carpenters. (Really, baby? The Carpenters?)
Maybe it's not just the tunes, but my smooth, sultry voice when I sing them. Yeah, that's probably it.

For whatever reason, my boys likes his music.
He's a little cranky while being fed asparagus? Sing the song about the little green frog. He smiles!
He's a little squirmy while getting his diaper changed? Break out into "Close to You" by the Carpenters. Happy boy!
He's getting tired, but it's still about 20 minutes before his nap time? Try a revised version of "Edelweiss" and he's entranced.

Lest you think he isn't getting a complete musical education, we also sing several Beatles songs to him with revised lyrics. "Bungalo Bill" becomes "Heeeey, Caleboo. What did do? Caleboo?" And "Nowhere Man" goes something like "He's my little Caleboo. Knows not what he's gonna do, Caleboo's a bit like you and meeee.... Caleboooo, please listen.." "Hey Jude" is "Hey Boog" and so on and so forth. The classics are not being missed at our house.

When it comes to Caleb, Singing=Happy Boy

Now about the sleeping. Caleb likes his naps. He still takes three a day. Each nap is about 2 hours long. He's done this since December. I'm to the point where I almost feel like a bad mom when I put him down for a nap. Am I only doing this because I like the naps? They sure do make my life easier. Does he really need to sleep every 2 hours or do I need him to sleep every two hours? The answer is easy: He really does need to sleep every 2 hours. I've tried to get him to stay up longer and he just doesn't like it. After two hours (sometimes right on the dot) he gets cranky. He whines. He rubs his eyes. Nothing will console him except constant singing and holding him. As soon as I put him in his crib, he grins. He GRINS, people. He likes this sleep stuff. And when I get him up 2 hours later, he grins some more. It's a wide, open-mouth grin that suggests he's expecting some sort of exciting surprise every time he wakes up. (I'm guessing the exciting surprise is me.)

There's no denying it; Enough Sleep=Happy Boy

For future posterity, and so I don't forget, here is a rundown of Caleb's current sleep schedule.

We usually wake him up around 6:30 AM.
He takes a nap from 8:30-10:30.
He takes another nap from 12:30-2:30.
He takes another nap from 4:30-6:30.
He goes to bed around 8:30.

He can survive when the schedule gets all changed-up and he only gets two naps or he wakes up late or goes to bed later or whatever, but he's not as happy those days.

Who says parenting isn't easy and you don't have time for anything? I've got 6 hours every single day to do what needs to be done. Where do you think I found the time to write this blog?
That's right, nap time.
Enough Sleep + Singing = Happy Baby Boy and Happy Mom

Poor, Attention-Starved Puppies

Since we added Caleb to our family we've been asked lots of questions. Aside from the usual, "Where did he come from?", "How old is he?", and "How do you like being a Mommy?!" (arguably the most annoying question I'm asked. How am I supposed to answer that? The only answer you can really give is that it is wonderful or people start wondering about you. Anyway...), another popular question is "How are the dogs adjusting to him?"

Well, I'll tell you.

I think they are undecided.

I'm not sure if they regard him as a person equal to me and Zack or more like a pet that they have to check up on once in awhile. When we come home they always check the car seat to make sure Caleb is in there. They sniff his face and give it a lick once in awhile. When I go to wake Caleb up from his naps they are always trotting ahead of me down the hall to his room as if they were the ones who decided that it was time for him to wake up. They sit by his crib and wag their tails when I take Caleb out. They sit next to him on the couch and usually don't mind if he grabs their hair. Well, Maxwell kind of minds so he keeps a distance.

So it would seem that everything is hunky-dory and they have adjusted well to having a new person in the house.

However, there are a few things that make me wonder if there might be some jealousy towards the new addition.

For instance, when we try to help Caleb walk between us on the rug Maxwell will get in the way and try to get our attention, not caring if he steps on or trips Caleb in the process.

And recently I've been seeing a lot of this:

These are all Caleb's toys. One of the dogs, I'm pretty sure it's Mckay, will pull one of Caleb's toys out and leave it in strategic places where I normally walk, like the hallway. She won't chew the toys, but she'll move them around. And then, the next time I see her, she'll have her head bowed and act like she's done something wrong, because she knows she's not supposed to play with those toys.

Observe.

The face of shame.

Invariably I'll tell her, in a stern voice, not to play with Caleb's toys (her head bowed, her tail down, the picture of shame) and then I'll pet her and tell her she's a good girl. She then trots away, head held high, little tail in the air.

Attention-starved?

You tell me.