Breast is Best

Not only does he "nurse" his babies, he also asks to nurse Hans.  It usually only lasts about 15 seconds because Hans starts screaming and Freddie says "take him."

And breast being best means he's gotta pump, too.  Last week he told me he was getting his special milk from his belly button. 

2 month well visit

"Good job, Hans.  It's ok, Hans," he said.

At 9 weeks, 3 days:

Hans' stats:
Weight: 11 lbs 4 oz (22nd percentile)
Length:  23.5 inches (68th percentile)
Head circumference:  39.5 cm (30th percentile)

Vaccinations:

• DTaP/DTP/Td
• IPV
• Hib
• Rhoavirus
• PCV

Compare to Freddie here, but overall very similar, with Hans weighing more and his head being smaller.  

She had no concerns.  I had no concerns.  There are some pluses to being a mom the second time around. I just wanted to get on my way so Hans could nap and Freddie could play. 

Freddie was there to witness the vaccinations.  We've been talking about getting shots lately since I knew he'd see Hans get his shots and I didn't want Freddie to freak out when it's his turn in a few months.  Freddie went with Charlie last month when he got his allergy shot.  I figured seeing Dada be brave was a better first (memorable) "exposure" to what a shot is like rather than seeing his brother wailing.  Just like he did when he was with Dada, he held Hans' hand and told him he was going to be ok.  Love being a Mama at moments like that.

Dr. G was wonderful with Freddie.  She showed him all of her "special doctor tools" and explained what she was doing with each step.  Freddie stood on the stool and watched very carefully.  I imagine when he gets up from his nap he'll conduct examinations after admitting us to the hospital.  (He talks about the hospital quite a bit now after Mama's stay there and learning about what ambulances do.)

Priorities

Who would have thought we'd feel the effects of a earthquake and a hurricane in one week...in New York City.  I'm beginning to think it's us.  It was the Katrina anniversary after all, and what a better way to celebrate than to ride out a hurricane  We got to watch and listen to NYC, and the entire east coast, fall into a tizzy with Irene on her way.

Now I don't mean to sound callous, but I must admit I think it's only fair that someone other than the Gulf South gets to experience the fun of hurricane season.  I'm not wishing death or destruction upon anyone, but I'd love someone else to feel the sting of 100% increases in home owners' insurance policies and have to endure outsiders questioning whether a region, their region, their home, was worth rebuilding.  And I thought better to hit here than at home;  always have to protect home.

Hearing the chatter of "this might be like Katrina" raised those protective instincts as well.  Please don't even think about talking about my city.  She's not perfect, but she's mine.  I think the east coast was determined to do it better than New Orleans had, and why shouldn't they I suppose.  There is a lot to be learned from our experience.

Charlie and I have a few things to teach folks about riding out a storm though, beginning with getting priorities straight.  Charlie was able to slip into the market minutes before they closed on Saturday.  He found the water shelves empty...

But he was there for beer.  We didn't want to be stuck in this apartment with two children and no power without beer.  Seriously.

Luckily we never lost power, and our beer stayed cold.  Lucky for the city, the hurricane didn't make much of a showing here.  Some street and basement flooding and downed trees, but all minor stuff. Our little island in the East River, east of Manhattan, had a handful of large trees down and with high tide water lapped over the edges of the bank.  Today public transportation is back up and running and most of the city is back to business as usual.

Picture taken this morning

Charlie was thankful we didn't have a yard and house to worry over with this hurricane. The car was already parked high in a garage, so that wasn't a concern.  There were no insurance papers to collect or photos to pack or discussions about when and where to evacuate.  No time was spent dusting off the generator of filling up gas cans.  All good stuff.  But I sure wish the beer in the fridge was Abita.

9 weeks (and 1 day)

***Today is Saturday and I am "back" publishing this on Friday.  Thursday was 9 weeks.  And I knew it.  I didn't take a picture.  I did take pictures on Friday, justifying the Friday publishing date.  I just cannot seem to take pictures and publish all in one day.  Sigh.

You are a much happier baby, lately, Hans.  I'm sorry for that dairy binge last week.  After screaming, increased diapers, and diaper rash, I've learned my lesson and promise not to test it again for a while.  Your smiles are much better than a double scoop sundae anyhow.

A routine is finally emerging in our house.  That's helping us all.  You are hit or miss with sleep lately, probably as a result of getting readjusted to home after a week at the lake, but you slept for 7 hours on Thursday night and I am hoping to see more nights like this, but how long you sleep seems dependent on what time you develop gas.  If your pooting wakes me up I know there's no way you can sleep through it.  

You are also to the point where you aren't so fond of being swaddled, mostly because you want that hand out of there to suck on.  I think the next few weeks will bring some attempts to sleep without it.  You also probably need more daytime sleep, but winding down seems tricky since your brother has designs on things other than calm and quiet in the house.  Sorry about that.  I hope it's not making you into a bad sleeper.  Cannot have that!

You're beginning to become aware of your hands, and can sit watching those in the room for longer periods.  You have little calls to get our attention, although we could never ignore this little chunk sitting in the middle of the room.

Speaking of being a chunk, I feel like I can see your thighs growing before my eyes.  I am amazed by how much weight you seem to have gained in the last few weeks.  You are getting rolls!

"I just hugging him!"

"I love you, Honz"

We all love you, Hans.  And I feel like you know it already. 

Until Next Year

Rainy day outing to see "the world's largest pelican" in town.  Next year I will get a family photo!

Goodbye rock hunting.
Goodbye raft.
Goodbye dock.
Goodbye fishies.
Goodbye walks on the dirt road.
Goodbye fresh air through open windows.
Goodbye paper plates.
Goodbye pontoon rides.
Goodbye Launchy (that's what he's named his wakeboard.)
Goodbye plaids and prints.
Goodbye paddling.
Goodbye chipmunks eating cinnmaon rolls.
Goodbye loons.
Goodbye outdoor showers.
Goodbye worm digging.
Goodbye bare feet in the grass.
Goodbye Mr and Mrs. Hummingbird on the feeder.
Goodbye Pudge, Gammie, and GG.
Goodbye Pelican Lake.

Life at the Lake

In case you were wondering, Hans and I were at Pelican Lake as well.  I'm disappointed I didn't get a photo of the four of us. (I don't think I have any photos of the four of us yet!)

Our days consisted of a walk, nursing, and trying to get some sleep.

Taking care of an infant meant not as much time outside (or taking photos) as I would have liked, but I am thankful for our week.

Both boys got lots of love and attention.

 
There were boat rides, splashing, rock throwing, treasure hunting, feather finding, cinnamon roll eating, fish catching...

...wave watching, chipmunk feeding, bird watching.  Freddie can do a pretty good loon call now!

And he said his favorite thing was the grass.  Nothing like being able to open the door and step outside in the grass, barefoot in your pjs, as soon as you wake up.  I don't think Freddie wore shoes all week!

There's a fish in my bed!

I know many memories will be made here for the boys and our family.

It's a good life at Pelican Lake...where the weather is great.

Swimming

It's been a while since Freddie's been in a pool and he didn't spend much time in the lake last year.  Mama's not so into lake swimming, so I understand.  Lay off, it's cold!  This is also the kid who doesn't like his face to get wet in the tub.  So I figured the grand plans of jumping off the dock into the lake were not going to happen.

My guy surprised me.  He first jumped from the raft into the lake without even batting an eyelash. 

And he did it again and again and again.

Until he finally decided he really wasn't into the water getting in his eyes and nose.  And it was more fun to push people into the lake anyway.

He mostly stuck close to shore splashing and looking for treasures in the water. 

I'm hoping for more experience in the water and maybe even swim lessons before we get up to the lake again.  That should give him some confidence.  Probably more than just seeing The Daddy cannon balling into the water.

Gone Fishing

Fishing is a favorite past time at Pelican Lake.  Unfortunately trips in mid August usually mean not so many fish on our hooks.  There's more biting earlier in the summer.

Freddie pretends to fish at home quite a bit after having been introduced to fishing in a Curious George book.  He was *really* looking forward to fishing at the lake.

Hoping Freddie doesn't get Charlie's fashion sense.

I was glad he got to see a real worm.  This city boy sees a picture of a worm and refers to it as a snake.  Well, not any more.  He know all about worms and putting them on hooks now.

Freddie loved the pontoon rides...

...but his patience for fishing was short.

He knew to watch his bobber and did catch a few fish.  He was pretty pleased with himself for catching a "big fish!  A keeper!!"  He's well on his way to telling fish tales.

Tubing

Warming up

I honestly cannot believe Freddie got on "The Bomber" and rode behind the boat.  He must not have been paying too much attention to the kids zooming by on the lake, otherwise I would have thought this would have been a definite "no."

Puttering along

He did well for the early part of the ride but as the boat accelerated and got further away from the shore he panicked.

Moments before terror set in

 I imagine next year he'll be ready.  It's amazing how much things change in a year.