This might be official!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Supremely hot off the presses- not ten minutes ago, I might have captured Miles' first ever "dada."  We've had many false alarms in recent days- oodles of ah-ah's, but nothing concrete, nothing like a real word.  Amazingly, my mothering sixth sense kicked in, and I started taking some clips of Miles fighting off his late afternoon nap, which he is still doing with a vengeance.  I knew some gems would be unearthed, though nothing this golden seemed possible.  Sadly, the real Dada has just run out to get a hair cut.  Miracle of all digital miracles, this might be it.  I want some feedback as to whether or not anyone hears Miles say it- about 15 to 20 seconds into the clip, I do.  Honestly, I hear a string of dada's.  However, if this is just the proverbial groundhog, let me know if he sees his shadow.  I'll gladly put my coat on for another six weeks or however long it takes 'til I get a real baby-word out of his slobbery kisser.  

One quick side note: Miles is drooling so much these days.  In fact, his chin is typically glossier than an oil spill.  Please tell me this is teething related, not a life style choice!  His billion daily raspberries (the "phhhhht" sounds that mingle around the alleged dada's) only add to the slickness.  If I am wearing my glasses, I seeing baby spit spray marks by the end of the night, thickly caking each lens.  Who switched my child with an errant lawn sprinkler???  I want names! 

Anyways, if I really have captured the moment, does Jesse owe me a prize?  Like a full-ride scholarship to film school.

Clip of the Week

This footage was taken right before dinner.  As I've been waiting for the clip to upload, a pot (our steel drum) was added.  More news at eleven.

Big boy bath time

Priceless Daddy observation

Recently Jesse remarked that Miles' chest scar looks like a cleavage line.  Now, I can't get his observation out of my brain.  Good thing onsies are equipped with plunging necklines- or we might have a scandalous baby on our hands.  Wait- maybe Jesse said big pectoral muscles- that it looks like Miles has big pecs.  Yeah, that would make more sense.  And it's even funnier to envision our little chunky monkey with Arnold Schwarzenegger-type pecs.  Mommy's little beef cake!   

Boo Buns

Despite what this looks like, I am not feeding Miles to the computer!
The bottom his jammies read, "BOO"- not "OOB."  Gotta learn how to switch that mirror setting (and double chin setting, that must be a factory error) on ye ol' laptop. . . Ohhhh, the end of another too short weekend.  

Update from the trenches

Q: What does it mean to be a mother of a seventh month old child?  

A: Recording Saturday Night Live because 9 pm is now the new witching hour!

Q: What song was secretly written about teething?

A  "How Soon is Now" by the Smiths 

Okay- fours bad days, one amazing day (yesterday), and an okay day (today).  Sleeping and teething just don't seem to mix.  I drove Miles for three separate naps, and Jesse took Miles for a final spin- which did buy us 8 hours of solid snooze.  

Miles is truly inconsolable at times.  No cold chew toys, nay to teething rings, nada to Tylenol, no way Jose to Motrin, fogeda'bout it to frozen wash clothes. . .looks like time is all he wants.  I'm betting that I'll be sporting a few gray hairs and a couple more wrinkles when that itby-bitty chomper arrives.    

What's up with Blogspot??!!

Is anyone else having a hard time with this system?  It's not letting me view my blog.  I can post, but that's it.  Help!!

How do you say goodbye when it is too soon?

Lessons abound this weekend- I shed tons tears and hugged many friends.  Yesterday, I went a Homegoing Celebration for a student I knew from last year.  This was a memorial service for a young woman who recently lost her battle with leukemia.  As tragic as this event is- what I witnessed was authentic thankfulness and celebration.  Above all, I was most humbled by the girl's mother and her genuine grieving.  Outreached were her arms; raised to receive divine healing and love.  I heard her howl and groan with the anguish that only accompanies the loss of a child.  

That same pain resonated in a deep place within me- a place that was initially carved out this summer as we waited for Miles' heart surgery.  In giving birth, you must accept the reality of death.  Not that morbidity was anywhere in my brain prior to delivering Miles- but when I first felt his breath on my skin, watched his eyes flutter in reaction to the bright hospital lights- I knew that he was a gift that I could not own.  Granted, I could do everything in my power to ensure that he remains healthy and happy.  But ultimately, I knew that his life did not belong to me.  As our summer toiled away in agitated impatience, his fragility only weakened my sense of control.  I had to hand over that desire, that need to call the shots, to a higher power.  I was revisited by those feelings of relief and release as I watched this girl's family live in the moment of their sorrow and yet, have the strength to mark the occasion as something to celebrate.

Yesterday, I saw a mother, in her tears and smiles, say both goodbye and thank you.  Goodbye to her daughter.  Thank you for the time they got to spend together.  You better believe I went home and held onto Miles, planted kiss after kiss- as if the shear power of my love could keep the scary times away.  I awoke this morning with a new perspective.  It would be a waste of our time if I spent everyday worrying about the what ifs- the time spent afraid would take away from the time spent in joy.  God forbid if anything should happen to Miles- but if the unthinkable were to happen, I pray that I would have the strength to accompany my grief with honest, heartfelt thankfulness.   

The last thing I expected to feel at the memorial service was inspiration, but I did.  I anticipated the tears.  Experiencing joy and hopefulness was a much welcomed surprise.

Candids from the weekend

Top shots:  Grampa & Grandma Thomas are pushing Miles around the block.

Bottom shots:  Miles looking smooth in Halloween jammies- only 40 more spooktacular outfits to photograph!

Occasion for the Arts

 Mommy, Miles, a limeade, and some amazing paintings!

Do you see his baby crocs?  Might be one of my favorite shower gifts.

It was a hot, hot, hot October afternoon.  And have that little infant-oven right 

on your chest doesn't help in the cool down department.

Occasion for the Arts is city event Jesse and I never miss.  There are multiple blocks closed off for a variety of artists and vendors.  Bands play in different locations; local restaurants and brewers  hawked their favorites dishes and ales.  We usually snatch up a couple of new paintings and get Christmas gifts at Occasion.  What's not to love?  Waddling around last year, with my slow growing baby belly, I was already looking forward to sharing Occasion with Miles.  Cut to 365 days later, it was a complete success.  Miles quietly hovered around in the Baby Bjorn for over an hour.  Not a fussy sound uttered!  So many new sights, smells, and sounds- he seemed enthralled.  Looks like Occasion will now be a family tradition.