Hey, I remembered how to type!

Look at that. I've completely forgotten to update my blog. Things are a little hectic right now, since we are planning to move this weekend and I have become hopelessly addicted to finishing the Harry Potter series. I requested eleventy billion library books thinking they would stagger in, giving me a steady stream of entertainment, but they all came through at the same time. Thinking I would start with the fifth book of the series since it would be a fun, quick read lead me into reading 600 page books any spare minute I have because good grief is this story addicting. I'm obsessive about books that way.

Anyhow, I did have a new little adventure last week. Once a month the local theater has a baby-friendly movie showing, and I tagged along with a few other mom friends and watched the Time Traveler's wife. The concept (Catch up on the latest movie with your baby and you won't be glared at when he cries/eats/makes embarrassing noises) was amazing, the movie was not. I've heard the book is better (and isn't it always?) but I was trying hard not to poke the nearest lady and say "Seriously? What the heck?" Luckily another like-minded friend was laughing pretty heartily too, and so we both made fun of the movie when no one else was listening.

Also, packing- with a baby? Not fun. Let me clarify. I am a disaster when it comes to packing. I stand with a box in a room full of stuff and freeze. My sister packed me for college. My mom packed for me once too. David bears the burden of most of our moving work. I'm just baffled as to where to start. My packers always say the same thing: ANYWHERE. For the love of all things, just throw that stuff. in your box. and keep doing it until there is nothing left. THIS IS NOT ROCKET SCIENCE. And I just stare at the pile and imagine what will happen when I pack away the sheets, and then Elliott throws up in our bed. Or I pack away the medicine cabinet and come down with ebola. THEN WHAT?

So add in some more writhing, hollering, spitting up distraction, and yeah- I fail at moving.

Quiet in the fitting rooms!

Elliott and I just got back from a trip to the mall so that I could get some more clothes. It isn't like I don't have clothes, or even that they don't fit, because most of them do. It's just that most of my wardrobe was not purchased with nursing in mind, so if Elliott gets all riled up in the middle of some public place, it is usually helpful to be able to feed him without too much fuss. Because if you have a hungry, screamy baby people look at you like are OBVIOUSLY starving that poor baby. I remember once upon a time looking at women in Ikea or Target with screaming kids and thinking, "just take him home! He's tired!" I apologize, random shoppers, for judging you. I had no idea. And all you wanted was a shelf, or some toilet paper. You even brought a bottle, but your kid got all uppity about his method of feeding and wants you to get naked here in the middle of the store. If I saw you now, I'd haul over a pillow from the bedding section so that you could at least be comfortable.

It's stuff like this that you just wouldn't know until you lived it. A friend of mine had to literally sit in the middle of the sidewalk on the way to the bookstore that we were walking to and turn her back to traffic to feed her screaming baby, who refused the bottle. She was so embarrassed, but saw no other option. Thankfully it hasn't gotten to that point for me yet, but I do get it now.

Anyway, the stores. I found great stuff, and didn't spend too much, and decided to press my luck by going to Kohl's afterward- even though Elliott hadn't been able to catch a nap in his stroller. Off we went, and halfway through the trip Elliott started to cry, and was not having the bottle I brought. I checked out the "family restroom" and the ladies room, but the only option for sitting down to feed him would have been a toilet seat.

Absolutely Not. Barf.

Anyway, it dawned on me that I could use a fitting room, and so the other mom I was with came along too. Both of the babies fussed for a minute (and when I say fussed, I mean Elliott WIGGED OUT for two minutes) and then Elliott ate and calmed down. Apparently some girl in the fitting rooms was trying to talk on the phone but couldn't hear over the noise of our children. She seemed annoyed by the noise we were creating, and told her friend she would have to call them back since she couldn't hear anything. It was interesting that she either didn't know or didn't care if we could hear her end of the conversation and deduce that the annoying people she was referring to were us, but I'm slowly getting used to the fact that people aren't generally excited to see women with strollers sharing their space. Or at least, not while those strollers are generating so much racket.

Roly Poly

Ever since my sister showed Elliott how to roll over, he has done nothing but. He is so eager to use his new skill that nothing we did before works quite the same way. He arches and bucks when he is placed in his bouncy chair or bumbo seat. He twists and turns when I put him in the swing. I go to get him from his crib and he is propped up on his elbows, waiting for me to pick him up. I'll flip him over to get him back to sleep, and he twists to get back onto his belly.

This week we've been pretty busy. I helped a friend out by watching her little boy for a few hours the last couple of days, and it was funny to watch Elliott's reaction. He seems slightly jealous, which I wasn't expecting. If I happen to hold the other baby he looks very puzzled, as if to ask why HIS momma is holding THAT GUY? I got him up from a nap yesterday and put both boys on our bed and sang some little nursery rhymes to them, and at first Elliott was all toothless smiles like normal. Then he glanced over and noticed we were not alone, and was VERY serious for the rest of our little concert.

I also managed to pick up these handy little baby food trays- they look like ice cube trays, but have lids and detach- and made Elliott a batch of steamed, pureed sweet potatoes. He LOVES them, but his ability to eat from a spoon is spotty. Some days he eats like he's been doing it his whole life, and some days food just dribbles out of his mouth and he gets frustrated with me for letting it go in the wrong direction. Which brings me to another realization. Feeding babies is really, really messy. And bibs are no longer optional accessories. Jack, for one, does not seem to mind this. He has recently taken to finding the last place we laid Elliott and licking the carpet for leftovers. And David and I are just, well, ew.

Beach bum baby

We went to Oval Beach on Lake Michigan last Tuesday and thus had Elliott's first trip to the beach (but not the ocean). The beach was really pretty and the weather was perfect. I brought literally 5 or 6 bags for all of our stuff, and we got settled in on a blanket and I proceeded to slather- not apply, but SLATHER spf 55 all over Elliott. Then I put him in a wetsuit and hat and hoped he would play on the blanket.

No such luck. He wanted to be entertained, and then fed, but then couldn't focus on eating because of all of the crazy beach distractions (Bird! But, so HUNGRY! Ooh, umbrella, I mean food, I mean new people, I mean WAAAAHHH!) and proceeded to lose his mind for a while. David looked around and we had cleared a thirty yard radius with our screaming baby. I walked him to the water and he was instantly soothed by the waves, but as soon as I went back to our blanket he was inconsolable again.

I finally took him to the car, where he screamed REALLY loud for 10 minutes and then finally calmed down, ate, and fell asleep. I fashioned a little makeshift sun shelter so he could sleep, but as soon as I set him down his eyes popped open again.

I talked David into coming with me to the shore again so I could get a few pictures, and he was almost in a trance from the sounds of the waves.

He fell asleep, and we took turns playing in the water while he snoozed. The wind started to pick up towards the end and when I saw that Elliott's ear had managed to collect a ton of sand, we packed up and headed back to Ann Arbor. Elliott is still as white as before, thanks to my Obsessive Sunblocking, but David and I are sporting matching burns.

Adjusting to the three of us again

My sister just left us this morning, and I'm already missing her. We basically laughed for 10 days straight, and I showed her the best parts of having Elliott and the parts that , are more difficult. For example, taking a trip to the beach requires intense planning and 5 bags (seriously, diaper bag, two for towels and blankets, one for cold food, one for not cold food), a bumbo seat, 5 tubes of sunscreen, and a very good attitude. I think she has some insight into why I haven't traveled south with him yet.

Anyway, it was so good having her, and Elliott hasn't been nearly as screamy and spoiled as I was expecting. We bought some fabric and sewed some dresses (well, I've only sewn half of mine), she discovered Elliott could roll over, and although I had fed Elliott rice cereal a couple of times, she fed him and we found out he is super enthusiastic about his food. He chased after the spoon like he was tracking it or something

He almost took her arm off after this bite. NOM NOM where is it? Oh, there! NOM.

This is actually a picture David took of him the first time I gave him cereal. He was much more civilized that time.

My freedom is screeching to a halt...

Elliott can roll! from Nicki Ingram on Vimeo.

Torturing my family

So my sister is visiting and I am thoroughly enjoying dragging her around to all the things I do on a weekly basis and hoping she doesn't die of boredom. We went to story time at Border's yesterday, but we were too late to actually hear the stories. Then we gathered some materials from JoAnn's fabrics and are going to sew something while she is here. Finally, I dragged her to the yoga class I've been going to. I warned her about the cheerleaders that seem to be able to balance their entire body weight on two fingers, and how in my first couple of classes I was so weak I couldn't do more than half of the poses.

Knowing how I am with Nicole, I was prepared to do some inappropriate giggling- but we managed to hold it together for most of the class. I would notice one of the cheerleaders doing something like this:

or this

and I would giggle when both of us did this instead:

.

This morning I woke up and Nicole was still passed out on the couch. When she stretched to wake up, she yelled something to the effect of "Stupid yoga...I feel like I got hit by a bus."

Fortunately she is also of the mindset that if it hurts, it must be working, so we'll go back on Sunday!