A very good first year

Wow, Austin blows me away.

We had a great celebration yesterday (a day late because of a snow storm on his birthday). About 20 adults and 10 kids tore apart the living room, with toys strewn everywhere, but without fighting or breaking anything. Success!

Austin napped perfectly before the party so he was able to make it through the party. He enjoyed playing baby catch with baby Dylan, getting tangled in his balloons and eating meatballs. On his birthday, he got a little too much salt and sugar. I fear he may never eat my bland food again.

I made the cake from scratch, which wasn't that difficult (except psychologically), but I burnt it. I changed the recipe a little and should have kept my eye on it. Luckily, I have learned that icing covers everything!!

When it came time for the big birthday song, Austin looked a little nervous. At one stage I thought he might cry, but he got through it and did seem to like the bite of cake he ate. He "smashed the cake," but on me, not on him.

He got lots of new toys, and, like my mom said when he opened his Christmas presents, he really did play with each and every one. He likes his toys.

Lots of "congrats" and high-fiving from the other parents. We all realize that the celebration is equal parts this new little person's life AND the fact that his parents kept him alive.

He's becoming such a little personality. This morning he said poo poo, because I said poo poo when I was changing him. And when Hayden was blocking his way on the floor while doing his sit ups, Austin barreled forth with a look of determination and willfulness. I will get through and do my own thing, his face said.

Yes, you will my dear boy. You go on with your bad self! (as my great grandmother would say).

Year two: bring it.

The Poop

I'm astounded to realize that I have yet to dedicate a blog to Austin's poop. It has been such an important, constant and prolific part of our lives this past year. One could dwell on so many poop nuances. For example, the blow outs have largely stopped since he started solids, but in their stead is a powerful, putrid smell. Perhaps that's too much detail, but really there could be so so so much more detail.

I'm inspired to write now, because of what happened the other night. The other night we put Austin to bed around 8. Nighttime is a particularly anxious time for me, because Austin is a shite sleeper. After being sick, he has basically reverted to newborn-esque night wakings every two hours to nurse.

So when he woke up at 10pm, we were still awake and decided to let him CIO (cry it out). He cried and cried and cried. His new trick, while crying, is to stand up in his crib. He continued crying and standing. 14 minutes in, I started to cave. Hayden pushed us on. 17 minutes in, he was still crying and I started pacing. 22 minutes in and even Hayden had stopped watching TV and focused on the baby monitor.

I'm going in.

Wait.

We wait. A few minutes later he's not crying but still standing.

Is he sleeping?

It looked to us like he had fallen asleep, standing and leaning on the rail of his crib.

Without further debate, I moved to the second floor, entered his room  and Austin started crying again, quite insistently.

Then I caught a whiff.

He had pooped.

Oh, the poor baby. The one time we tried to be tough, he woke for a reason: he had a ginormous turd in his bottom.

He whimpered as I changed him and I apologized. Sorry Austy. Mommy's sorry. Poor Austy.

I nursed him, put him back to bed and he slept until 5:41 am, which for him is a good stretch.

After taking pride in keeping a newborn alive, we are beginning to realize that it's not easier with an emerging toddler. It scares me that this is news to us.