Sleep.

After weeks of having too little of it (both Baby and Mama), I checked out a dozen or so library books on getting the wee one to sleep for longer stretches at night. (All gentle, no-cry, very loving, of course.) Strangely, I haven't had to implement a single strategy, as Ben, for the last five nights, has fallen out fairly early for him, though still in his charmingly unscheduled way--between 8:30 and 10:00 p.m.--and awoken only once--around 2 a.m. or maybe 3:22 a.m. or perhaps 5:14 a.m.--before crashing again until 8:00ish a.m. At other times, he has napped IN HIS CRIB. My mother and her friend claim it's because of the solids, but he's had solids for the past four weeks or so and only just started this week with the whole sleeping-for-more-than-three-hours-at-a-time business. But babies can go through sleeping/night-waking phases. And breastfed babies need to awaken more frequently anyhow. It's true--Dr. Sears and his many publications tell me so! Why would a book like to a person?

Whatever the cause, it's bliss. But also like waiting for the inevitable storm. And, yes, he's still in the itty-bitty bassinet each night. We did, however, retire the swaddler this week in favor of a sleep sack. In recent weeks, Speck had been wearing the much-adored, much-too-small swaddler in the manner of a toga, then of a tube dress (sassy!), then of a bellydancing skirt.

The next great concern and debate: where to drop Boy at night now that he's beefy (tofu-y?) enough to drag his bassinet around on a string like a pull-toy? His crib, you say? Ha.

Big fish in a little sea.

Unacceptable.

6 months, 11 days, nearly completed, and STILL nary a word. Oh, the shame! We now pin our (unreasonable?) hopes on Dot, our as-yet-unconceived second...

As one can see, I am quite immune to

the unbearable cuteness of being...Ben.

On the occasion of a weekday off...

I wonder, "Is it wrong to daydream about being laid off, so I could be a stay-at-home parent, if only for a few months?" It's been a good day, of feeding Speck, holding him as he napped, reading to him, singing, taking a walk to the grocery store, attempting to get him to cooperate for his first studio photos (he didn't), et cetera...all without rushing or stressing about being late for work.

And, yes, I think of it now, even as Boy, sitting (writhing) in my lap, slams the keyboard and flings toys and squishes everything in reach with curious, pudgy little fingers...

23 hours, 59 minutes...

...until I officially declare Ben sorely lacking in verbal skills. (And the time is ticking away!) After celebrating Grandma's birthday (60!) with dinner and cake Sunday evening, we dragged out the old photos to determine if Speck really looks like his mother did as a wee tot (he totally does--sorry, Rob & your family). In so doing, we discovered that I spoke my first "official" word (though not my first word--long [or rather, just kinda weird] story) at the ripe old age of 6 months, 10 days...the age that Speck is this very day (it's just after midnight. Shouldn't I be in bed?).

Please, please, dear heart, don't disappoint your mother. We want a "Mama" or a "Da" or a "kitty" or a something distingishable from random babbling or squealing before your (fluid, ever-shifting, negotiable) bedtime. So get crackin', kid.

P.S. You WILL disappoint your mother anyhow if your first word/phrase is not some variation of "mother" or "Jamie." "Ma," "mommy," "yo mama," "Jay," "Mimi," "hey you," and "lunchwagon" are all acceptable. "Ayayay-yiyiyiAHHH!!!" is not. You can beat me at the talking game, as my first word was "daddy."

Kisses, sweet baby!!!

Speck practices his tongue exercises,

in preparation for The First Word.

6 months...

since Benjamin roared into our lives. And I felt utterly compelled, after much neglect, to post--as I began this blog halfway through my pregnancy (at 20 weeks, oh so very long ago), I thought I'd continue the tradition with a post halfway through Speck's first year--and as with my first post, I do so on the momentous occasion with moments to spare. I now make a solemn vow and promise to post more often. Hopefully, my next won't be halfway to Ben's legal voting age. In the meantime, a photograph of our Lord and Master: