Boy Oh Boyers

I think Rowan may have discovered his feet! He has started looking down at them, wiggling them around, sometimes smiling, and wiggling them some more. Yesterday Rowan astutely observed that the baby in the mirror has feet incredibly similar to his own -- and that, of course, was highly amusing. Now, this could all be a fuss over nothing if, in fact, it is the embroidered snowmen on the tops of his sleeper footies that are drawing his attention. Nonetheless with his new grasp of cause and effect as evidenced by the bouncer play, it seems he must begin to know that he can will those snowmen to move!

On another note, I think the first game of peek-a-boo, though it be an unorthodox one, has occurred! Last night while Rowan and I were in the bathtub (clear water...woo hoo!) Tom climbed into our glass shower, which is partly obscured by the tub itself. Rowan was facing said shower, and when Tom crouched down to hide and then popped back up to surprise Rowan, surprise was indeed the emotion of the moment! Rowan squealed with delight and tensed every muscle in his little body. Then, when Tom hid again, Rowan's smile faded to a slightly dejected scowl, until POP, Daddy emerged again smiling. This back and forth repeated several times, Rowan's laughter getting more frantic with each turn. By the last time he was practically gasping and screaming while he laughed! What a wonderful adventure, this whole crazy business of growing a little human. They're utterly amazing.

Rowan had his four month checkup today. Dr. Zimmerman was charming as always, commenting on how bouncing and smiley indeed our little one has become! His weight is great (you'll have to wait until the picture of the day for November 12th to see just how great), and his height is now 25 1/2 inches! His head circumference is...who am I kidding...you don't really care about that, now do you? What you care about is that he's totally healthy and doing great. And he took the shots like a true champ.

The big ball that got dropped were the words this mommy has been dreading. The horrible "SF" -- Solid Foods! Not that I don't want Rowan to grow up and taste the wider variety of what life has to offer (besides breastmilk), I think it's just that I'd rather he not taste the wider variety of what life has to offer right now. :-) I just picture spoons, sticky cereal, a messy baby, and woe of all woes, the end of always having the perfect food, at the perfect temperature, right with us no matter where we go. Nonetheless, it'll be a fun new chapter, I know. One we'll start closer to 6 months of age, not 4. (Yes, that's perfectly fine with the established medical community. And yes, I know people in my generation probably ate solid foods closer to 6 WEEKS of age than 6 MONTHS, but hey, things change. They change quickly. :-)

Great-Grandpa and Great-Grandma Rickard invited us to a timeshare in Myrtle Beach, SC where we spent a spectacular weekend frolicking about on the beach and in the indoor pools. Daddy took the initiative to go buy "Little Swimmers" diapers so Rowan could try out the pool. I was HIGHLY skeptical he'd tolerate the cool water (well, cool relative to his normal baths), but after a puzzled face for a while he really took to it! I think we'll have quite the little fish on our hands next year. Look for lots of upcoming pictures of the day from this little weekend trip!

Rowan, Tom and I ate at Cracker Barrel this evening before a quick shopping trip to our local outlet mall. Rowan needed a diaper change, so as we were leaving I took him into the ladies' room hoping they'd have a good changing spot. They did, and as we were getting settled (meaning I was wiping everything in sight with one of those Lysol disinfecting wipes) a lady walked in and said, "Oh, there's that cute baby I saw from a distance." She walked over, a petite woman about 40 years old with dark blonde hair and bright eyes rimmed in thick eyelashes. She spoke to Rowan who was over my shoulder and said, "Can you give me a smile? My baby is 13 years old and he's so seroius nowadays." Rowan was sleepy and full from the bottle he had just finished, so I didn't expect much in the way of social interaction from him. But he made a coo, cracked a grin, and within seconds his mouth was wide open in a laugh! This laugh wasn't a giggle, it wasn't a chuckle -- it was a full-blown, gasping for air after the squeals, LAUGH. I have no earthly idea what my child found so funny about this woman named Donna, but she says it is simply because babies can tell when a person is truly delighted to see them. And Donna was truly delighted to talk with Rowan.

In a twirly whirly mess of relationships, it can sometimes seem difficult to know when people are sincere. We're surrounded by patronization, manipulation, and over-analysis. In contrast, I marvel at the purity of Rowan's interactions. He smiles because there is joy in his heart; he smiles because he is the object of love. This smile, this unadulterated and pure and uncontrollable smile, comes from a fleeting source: he can smile like this because he is a child.

Well, we've made it to Illinois for our Thanksgiving time with Tom's family. It was eventful getting here. See, we wanted a direct flight. So rather than flying into Tom's hometown of Bloomington, IL (requiring a stop through Atlanta or Detroit, meaning two ascents and descents in a short period of time for poor Rowan's ears), we booked flights into Indianapolis, IN and reserved a rental car. So Monday morning came, Uncle Tim dropped us all at the airport two hours before our flight, and we got all settled at our gate. Then they dropped the news that our plane had tire troubles and we'd be delayed. Then, delayed again. No tire at our airport, one had to be flown in. Who knows how long it'd take. Get in line to be rebooked on the next direct flight, which was 9 hours away. Or, get in line to be rebooked on a flight an hour later, that went through Detroit. So, we choose the lesser of the evils as we saw them and took the flight to Detroit. Rowan was so sleepy during takeoff that there was no hope of me getting him to drink. But he did wake up to eat on landing, which is much more important anyway as far as ear discomfort goes. When we arrived in Detroit, that flight was delayed too -- but thankfully only for a little while. We finally did arrive in Indianapolis, picking up our rental car at 6pm instead of the previously-planned 12pm. With ONE diaper to spare in the diaper bag, and NO clean outfits because Rowan had peed on us both at our home airport and in Detroit. Sheesh.

Once we got in the car, we were hungry (except Rowan, who had played hard on the plane with the lady next to him and then eaten, so he went to sleep in his car seat). Oh, quick aside: you can fit four suitcases, a stroller, a babyseat, and two adults into a Hyundai Sonata. It's not trivial, but it can be done. Anyway, back to the riveting story of our journey. (You were holding your breath, weren't you?) Besides the fact that I was exhausted because Rowan had us up since 4:30am anyhow, what I really wanted was a sit-down place to eat where I could settle into a booth, feed Rowan using my nursing shawl, and eat some good food. I had fed Rowan on airplanes, in airport waiting areas, and I just wanted a comfy spot. Dim lights. Maybe some nice decor on the walls. We got off on an exit with an Applebees; it was super-crowded so I said let's pass and wait for the next thing. After all, Rowan wasn't due to eat for at least half an hour anyway. Tom said, "Remember, it's the midwest. There won't be exits as often as you're used to." Brushing him off, I said "Ok." What I really thought to myself was, "Well, there HAS TO be a a Cracker Barrel or something in the next half our or so." Buddy, did that assumption end in tears (and yes, I mean mine and Rowan's)! There was nothing. I mean, NOTHING. We ended up getting off the freeway because Rowan was screaming, in a small town where you had to drive a few miles down a rural road just to see the first street sign, and I fed my baby in the parking lot of a gas station with a table full of rednecks looking on, probably wondering what on earth we were doing. Then, we went inside that same gas station and had Subway sandwiches. Charming, huh?

Once we were back in the car, Rowan was ready to play! The dark car and restrictive car seat were not what he had in mind. So I climbed in the back with him and sought out the only form of entertainment I had that could be enjoyed in the dark: my cell phone and its stored photos! Thankfully Rowan loved it. I had photos of Daddy, Aunt Julie, Grandmommy, Papa, Great-Grammies, myself, and others. We talked about each photo in detail, laughing and giggling the whole time. Thankfully just when I though we were doomed to fussiness, Daddy thought of turning on the dome light, and that bought us another fifteen minutes of happy playtime with the turtle teether we had brought. Speaking of which...

Rowan plays now, using his hands! He has started grabbing and holding onto toys for real, and putting them into his mouth. I know everything will be mouth-bound from now until, oh, two years from now probably, but still this skill is new enough that I marvel at his coordination. It's amazing to realize he sometimes fusses because he wants something to *do*, not just a change of position or walking around like it used to be.

Anyway, to wrap up this story I'll tell you there was then much snoozing in the car, as Daddy dutifully drove us safely to Meemaw's house. And here we are now, well-rested, and I'm looking out at a rain-soaked perfectly picturesque view of the stereotypical midwest scene: open fields, a few trees in the distance, farmhouses, and a big sky. We head to Grammy and Papaw's house soon, where Great-Mamaw also awaits. Happy Thanksgiving, all!

Armed by knowing reassurance from Mamaw and surrounded by less knowing but still reassuring support from Papaw, Grammy Sue, and Daddy, I decided now's as good a time as any to give a whack at "the big SF", solid food. This afternoon (on a cold, windy Illinois day-after-Thanksgiving) we stopped by the store and got baby cereal and those special rubber-ended spoons. For the uninitiated, let me explain this "cereal" is not in fact like cereal at all, but rather simply flakes that when moistened turn into white, sticky goo. In Rowan's case the moistener of choice was some breastmilk from the fridge, warmed and then stirred in to the rice cereal flakes. Apparently (despite her outward enthusiasm) Mamaw was doubtful that Rowan would actually end up swallowing any of this cereal! But much to all our surprise, he downed it pretty well and seemed to have a good time. The whole procession was filled with bewildered looks from the babe, enough camera flashes to make him feel like Lindsay Lohan in front of paparazzi, and certainly the bib came out worse for the wear -- but all in all I think Rowan was definitely ready for this experience. He has been sitting in a high chair for months now just because it's such a convenient way to have him in the kitchen with me. Now he's sampled the real purpose of the technological tray-laden, reclining marvel. Look out sweet potatoes, squash, bananas, soft food of all kinds! Here we come!

Dexterity is arriving in generous doses for Rowan. His hands are transitioning rapidly from randomly-slung instruments of destruction to purposely-wielded tools of manipulation. It was a couple weeks ago that he really started holding toys with intent (intent to put them into his mouth, specifically). Now, he reaches, grabs, passes things back and forth between his hands, and seems to really take pleasure in having something to do with those newly-functional fingers. In this photo of Rowan playing with a new chew toy from Grammy and Papaw, you can see Rowan's new-found skill.

Yesterday morning while he was falling asleep, he even twirled my hair! And speaking of falling asleep, there's news to report. In the few days since returning from our Thanksgiving abroad (to the Midwest, that is), Rowan has adapted quickly to naps in his crib instead of someone's arms. This, though a slightly mournable transition, was absolutely necessary as my work has resumed full throttle and those naps are the only times during the day when I allow myself to be the super-driven near-workaholic that I can be. Other times, I'm a super-fun, totally attentive (though possibly over-talkative) Mommy!
With that said, I'd estimate there are approximately twenty minutes left on the morning nap clock! As Don Scro would say, "Gotta go!"