On the Move

I think some babies are born with a natural umph to try and move. I have a good friend who's baby is 5 months older than Jackson. He was crawling at 6 months, and walking at 9. Having no other relative examples, I thought this was normal.

When Jackson was three months, I was certain we only had 2-3 more months of leaving him and finding him in the same spot.

Funny how when we expect something, it seems to come to pass in a totally different way.

Jackson has turned out to be one of those babies that does not have a natural umph to move. He's content with whatever skills he has, and doesn't seem to push himself very hard.

He has toyed with some scooting--looking like this, and resulting in 2 cm of movement.

(Arm and leg movement is of no requirement. This technique only requires lifting a massive bum off the floor, and allowing that force to accelerate one forward.) [F=ma]

He has been a decent roller for a few months--as long as it is only on his left side. Back and forth, back and forth, on that left side--never really going anywhere. With the 9 month mark and a Dr.'s visit looming ahead (next week), I decided I would try and guide him to a bit more movement.

Last Tuesday, we practiced rolling. Then we practiced it some more, and even some more. Finally at 4 pm, I called Mark at work, ecstatic.

"JACKSON rolled across the floor all by himself!!!"

He actually moved. Somewhere new. On purpose.




Since I felt this all had to do with my relentless focus and coaching, I had quite the sense of mommy pride--void of any sadness that this might mean a lot more work for me.

However, if you notice the numerous cords and plugs in the background, you'll feel a twinge of sadness as I attempt to semi-baby proof the house.

Video quality is limited because the other camera's battery was getting charged--.

Not to worry. He still will sit and stay where we put him.


It may take a while for me to coach him on the intricacies of going from sitting to crawling.

Time for Some Style

If you look at a timeline of Jackson pictures, you'll start to realize that the top of his head has maintained the same style for quite sometime. Much of this has to do with the unending cradle cap problem--requiring me to plaster his head with some kind of goop so his scalp doesn't fall off in small pieces, in turn training his hair to go straight forward.

Granted, we have made great strides in growing hair since my last hair post (found HERE). In fact the sides and back of Jackson's head have lightened, lengthened and thickened tremendously. Mark and I have reoccurring moments parental pride when we notice a dramatic change in his hair. So glad he didn't stay bald.

With the new advancements, Jackson seems to have gotten tired of his every day look. (I think he gets jealous of all those girls at church who get to sport all sorts of head gear.)

As such, he's becoming much more willing to keep hats on--
not only for warmth,


but style too.



Jackson has also been experimenting with new hairstyles by himself. It works really well when you have oatmeal and yogurt all over your hands.



He's even been trying to look a little more hip with the Zac Efron, forward flow/teenage heart throb look:



Can you see the similarity?


Anyway, with all this styling he's been up to, I thought I'd try and work with the top of his head. We started with trying to add some body



And ended after attempting a part. This is about how far we got. And it lasted about 10 min, before it all went right back into place.



I think I'll stick with letting him do his own hair. And yes, I think his double chin is getting bigger.

PTS (pre/post teething syndrome)

Teething reminds me of a woman's "time of the month." Anytime I would be grumpy or hormonally out of balance as a teenager, my mom would say, "oh honey, it must be your period." When I would tell her it had just ended, or it wasn't supposed to start for another week, she would simply tell me--PMS refers to both pre and post menstrual syndrome. After stopping to think about it, I would laugh. If that were true a woman had an excuse to be grumpy and out of sorts for 3 out of 4 weeks in a month.

Around 4 months, Jackson started showing signs of teething. Fussy, eating everything and drooling everywhere. I thought he was teething, but then would wonder if he was sick also? Everyone I talked to said, "oh yes, he must be teething." By 5 months I was sure those little white pearls would poke through--since he started a pattern of waking up in the middle of the night. When people would ask me the sleep questions, I would say, "Oh, he used to do great, but now he's teething." Of course, there were no teeth to show for it. I think I was so desperate to find teeth, I was sure one was poking through at the end of November. When I pointed it out to Mark, he lovingly corrected me by showing me it was only his superior labial frenulum (the little line that attaches the lip to the upper gums)--no, he did not know that term, I had to look it up.

By the middle of December, whenever he was grumpy, people would ask "Oh, is he teething?" I would laugh and tell them he had been teething for more than half of his life--but had nothing to show for it. Amazingly, December 23rd, I let Jackson chew on my finger--like every loving mother does--and there was not just soft gums. His bottom two teeth had popped through just in time for Christmas. Oh relief! I could finally blame all his problems on teething, guilt free!!!

Of course, the only way to tell is to feel the teeth. Being hidden behind Jackson's bottom lip and at only 2 mm tall, pictures of these little guys are near impossible to come by.

Luckily we definitely have plenty of drooling proof now.

Sunday night of this week was really rough--lots of waking up, a bit of crying, and light fevers. Mark and I both were very sympathetic about those little teeth moving around. Since his behavior was a bit more dramatic than normal, I was really wondering if he was sick. Monday, he got to be with a babysitter for a couple hours while I taught music at a nearby preschool. It was rough to say the least. Absolute screaming the entire time. The babysitter likewise said "oh, those poor little teeth."

By Monday afternoon, I knew it wasn't teeth. Jackson was way congested, had little fevers and seemed to hurt all over. As far as we know it was the first time he's really gotten sick (more than a cold). Needless to say, it's been a rough few days. I mean, how's a kid supposed to eat (i.e. drink from his mom-cow) when he can't breath through his nose? That little binky is also quite the mouth plug--allowing for minimal airflow. When he breathes through his nose, I'm reminded of my cute great grandma Lela who used to sound like a stuffed up bear when she would breathe. He seems to do a lot of talking--I think he's figured out he doesn't have to do much nose breathing when he blabbles on.

My little nurses station is set up next to my rocking chair: nose saline, Baby Tylenol, a bulb syringe and the arm pit thermometer (replacing that cursed rectal thermometer). All of which he hates, and all of which don't seem to work well (except the Tylenol).

So much for blaming all his woes on PTS!