Our (not so) little overachiever

The other day, James was yammerin' away, as babies tend to do:

 















In my sing-song-y voice, I responded. "What did you say?"

"I *said*, 'what's a guy gotta do to get a steak around here?'."

Whoa.

"Well," I retorted calmly, "having TEETH might help."

Then BOOM--

See 'em in there? Apparently, he'll take that t-bone now.

Again, average babies aim to pop a tooth or two out around six months, so James did it at four months. And THEN, I took him to the doctor to check his weight...

Now, we're currently doctor shopping, and I couldn't understand much of what the new nurse said. Still, I warned her James might be the biggest four-month-old ever.

"Big baby OK," she said, as she told me how they (I don't know who) called her baby daughter a sumo wrestler.

(Raise your hand if you feel better.)

At any rate, I have no clue how long he is, but James weighs an unbelievable 19 pounds, 7 ounces! It really looks to me to be off the charts, but I s'ppose we can go with the nurse's record of 99th percentile.

He CAN'T keep this growth rate up FOREVER. Right??!

It happened.

"It?" you say. Yes. "It" in three parts--

It happened. (Elliott edition)

Elliott forgot his homework. If only for a day, Elliott went and got all crazy kid-like, forgotting to bring his work home. THIS from someone who is normally a responsible adult, asking about the minimum requirement so he can blow it out of the water. Write three sentences? He'll write a page-and-a-half. Read for 15 minutes? He'll power through a chapter book. This kid LOVES his job of school, so if he remembers to be A KID every once in a while, I'm gonna celebrate it.

 

It happened. (Patrick edition)

Patrick got engaged. Yes, Lady Killer here put his heart (and dimples) on his sleeve and asked a fine young woman, aged five years, to marry him. To be fair, she hasn't answered yet. Elliott encouraged his little bro to keep asking with more and more friends as witnesses--peer pressure, you know--so I'm sure an emphatic "yes" is coming soon. We'll keep you posted. But for now, save the date, er somethin'.



It happened. (James edition)

James rolled over. Hooray! This morning, I found our giant four-month-old (shown here, requesting something else to eat) on his belly in the crib! Unfortunately, flash photography was not permitted since the move was prompted by a massive poop explosion. (SOMEthing had to motivate such physical exertion, no?)

Life in the wild

We did it! A family camping trip!

 

We packed. We planned. We squeezed King James into the Baby Bjorn--I mean, seriously. Is husky sizing out of the question in baby carriers?--and we went hiking, climbing and exploring in Hocking Hills, an awesome state park just about an hour southeast of Columbus.

 

A family of five, ready to go!

 

The boys LOVED exploring, and every time Mom encouraged it for a photo-op, poor Dad cringed.

No twisted ankles, but clearly, both boys stuck the landing here--

Beautiful, right?

Such boys :)

Truly, we roughed it. The boys had to pretend they were 12 in order to use the hot tub--right on the deck outside of our weekend cabin.

 

We rented an awesome log cabin, complete with a full kitchen, a loft just for the big boys and a TV with a DVD player. (We tried Mary Poppins, but couldn't get all the way through it.) It was SO rough, poor James was stunned we could even fake smiles.

Look at that face! It's HARD having to work for your food, people!

But, ohhhhhh, the rewards are sweet.

 



I'd say we had a great getaway, but it's all just smoke and mirrors. At least, I think that's the commentary Pete had in mind when he snapped this beauty--

 

Hocking Hills, we WILL be back! 

Star athletes

I'm thinkin' there's a strong chance you spotted a couple of menacing figures on your way to work or school last Friday morn. I thought I should explain.

Silly! That's just Patrick and Elliott, getting their game faces on for the PTA's annual Walk-a-Thon fundraiser! (Despite the enthusiasm and strenuous prep, I'm sorry to report neither boy ran the most laps in his respective grade. Anyway, there were popsicles all around, so it's kinda like they won.)

I know you're already objecting to this stunningly adorable cherub being included under the "star athletes" heading, but... 





...ta-da! Just LOOK! James can hold his bowling ball head up! (He's officially four months and can't quite get all the way through that rollover business without a little help, but this kid came with his own measuring stick. He laughs in the face of "trends" and "normal growth" and "average size.") Three cheers, big man!

Now, this last bit isn't *exactly* related to athletic prowess, but it was just too dang funny to exclude. The other day, big (as in FIVE full YEARS older) brother Patrick "held" baby James. As I snapped a few photos, I remarked to Pete that their heads were--I mean, good God!--almost the same size. Patrick, without hesitation, added, "Yeah. But I'm taller!"

 

A true victory! Gold medals in the Optimism category!

Memos these boys never got

 
Memo to Patrick--

It's OK--normal even!--to feel unsure and uneasy at the beginning of a new school year.

The hesitation has begun and, while Mom, Dad and teacher all think it's normal adjustment period stuff, I see Patrick looking to his older brother and feeling like he's not measuring up. :(  I just want to bear hug him until he learns the routine, gets used to his new school and makes a good friend.

Oh, and P.S. to Paddy: While it'd be exceedingly appropriate, your music teacher's name is actually Mrs. Wilson, not Miss Whistle.

Memo to Elliott--

 

No one likes school as much as you. Have you ever noticed that?

 

This memo comes with two stories.

 

1. I will never forget one fall 2010 afternoon when I headed to the school yard to pick up my big Kindergartner, Elliott. I smiled as I watched young kids being young kids, goofing around and playing. Then, my gaze shifted to a small group of teachers who were simultaneously throwing their heads back in laughter. In the middle, looking way up and workin' the crowd, was Elliott. Ladies, ladies! You don't need to call me 'Mr. Scully'! I'm fine with 'Principal Scully'! (Of course, I don't know what he was actually saying, but I can only assume I'm not that far off.)

 

2. While brainstorming gift ideas for his seventh birthday this past summer, Elliott offered two solid thoughts: a trip to Cars Land in California OR year-round school. Seriously. From the mouth of my crazy babe.





Memo to James (And, yes. This one is shocking.)--

A spurt--as in "growth spurt"--is, by definition, short-lived.

 

E.g. "Baby might be eating more than normal now. A growth spurt around three months is common." Yeah, well, what if it's a lifetime growth spurt??! 'Cause my giant is huge and happy. Also, if anyone can explain how I'm NOT down to 47ish pounds after exclusively breastfeeding this tank since May 31, I'm all ears.

 

Epic!

You know those horrific scenes where high speeds and powerful winds lead to 18-wheelers rolling over on highways?

 

Well. It's not all that windy in our house, and James ain't goin' nowhere very fast. But JUST LOOK what he did for the first time today!

 

 

 

Huge! This is huge! He's on his way! Next time I blog, I expect he'll be bench pressing about two-hundy. GoooOooo, James!

Starting fresh

You may have noticed small time lapses on this here blog. And you may have read promises of "catch-up posts" with no follow-up. Well, those days are behind me, and I swear I promise to try really hard to be better. Here goes nothin'!

 

First up, Elliott and Patrick were crazy-jazzed to start the school year. Here's Big E (or "Elliott D. Scully," as he now likes to write his name), hitting the ground running in second grade. (And more than a little miffed that there was no homework on night one!) Patrick has started full-day Kindergarten with just a teensy tiny crush on his teacher and a large capacity for learning and repeating every school song. It's going to be a great year!  

Oh yeah. There's also a little matter of a new family member. Mr. James Parker Scully (a.k.a. "Big Jimmy P.") is three months and the size of a small refrigerator. He likes milk, sleep and breaking people's kneecaps. (Just kidding about that last bit, but I'm not trying to make him mad, just in case.)

With the older boys in school, James and I are trying to find our rhythm and, as anyone close to me can attest, I am a Sleep Nazi. (That's similar to the Soup Nazi, but different.) Thanks to my favorite book in the wide, wide world, Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child, James is pretty reliably taking three naps and sleeps 12 hours at night (7 p.m.-7 a.m., with at least one, usually two, but sometimes three wake-ups). At last check, he was hovering at the very tippy-top of the Normal Baby growth charts.

In other news, I've officially quit working(!) to more fully focus on molding the minds of the next generation. (Turns out we're all in trouble.)