Today Luke turns 9 months old, and you should see the monumentous crowds that turned out in Washington D.C. to celebrate his 3/4 birthday! It is amazing to be an American on this historically significant Inauguration Day, and although Luke will not remember it, I am grateful that my child is alive for such an incredible occasion. We watched Barack Obama being sworn in as the 44th President of the United States this afternoon and the excitement and energy in the air was almost palpable. It is certainly a great day for our country!
We started off our morning with Luke's 9-month pediatrician appointment. As expected, Luke is still practically off the charts for his age. He is over 31 inches long (99th percentile!), but has lost some of his baby rolls and fat recently, decreasing to the 86th percentile in weight (still pretty big). The doctor was very pleased with all of Luke's motor and social developments, as our big boy is officially crawling now, waving, and says, "Ma Ma", "Hi", "Ba", and "Da". However, when I reported that Luke STILL has not slept through the night, despite our implementation of the Ferber method to let him "cry it out" several months ago, the pediatrician was surprised that Luke still wakes up at least 2 times each night. There's really nothing we can do, but my favorite part of the 9-month developmental hand-out that the doctor gave me today states:
"9-month olds have a lot of energy and it requires a lot of energy to take care of them. Make sure you get enough rest. Ask friends and family for help so you can take a break and rest. If you are rested, you will be better able to take care of your child."
I am absolutely convinced that whoever wrote this has either never been a new parent or had a baby who slept through the night at a few weeks old. Any other sane person would realize that the law of nature for raising a 9-month old is that you will not be well-rested, but will survive anyway. I don't think that I will ever sleep through the night again, but will be happy to take the advice of the hand-out for any volunteers for the 3 a.m. shift at our house. We're happy and fulfilled, so that's all we can ask for!
I've been meaning to write a couple of funny stories about all of the unsolicited advice and feedback that strangers seem to give new parents. At the grocery store a few months ago, as Luke practically gnawed a hole in his toy during a particularly rough teething day, the cashier asked me in all seriousness if I had given my child a chicken bone yet to help with teething. I looked at her incredously, pretty sure that I didn't see "chicken bone" listed in my American Academy of Pediatrics Book as an acceptable food for a 6 month-old, (maybe it was under the "choking hazards" section instead), but the cashier assured me that she did it for all 6 of her children. Then she gave me a big, toothless grin as I thanked her for her advice and checked out...
Also, today in CVS, a man stocking shelves turned to Luke and asked, "Where is your shoes?" (in a slight passive-aggressive tone as if to say, "What kind of mother takes her child out in public in the middle of January without shoes on?")
1) The question is gramatically incorrect, which is a pet peeve of mine, so do we really have to answer it?
2) My 9-month old child can not answer that question, as he does not have expressive or receptive language abilities mastered quite yet, but thank you for asking him directly.
3) Again, my trusty AAP book tells me not to put shoes on my child until he is walking, as shoes restrict foot development and growth at this age, but we appreciate your curiosity, and I know it's cold outside... that's why we are wearing socks.
And lastly, my favorite:
Luke and I were out to lunch with a friend and her baby, and an elderly gentleman approached us and said to me in a
very thick Southern drawl, "That's a mighty fine young man you've got there!"
I could tell by the hearty slap on the back that I received and the way that this gentleman was beaming that he had just bestowed a compliment of the highest nature to us, so I thanked him (secretly pleased with myself for understanding even a little bit of his accent). And then, in an attempt to make Luke smile, the man popped out his dentures and did a little trick sliding them in and out of his mouth, about 6 inches from my baby's face. Luke promptly burst into tears and began wailing at the frightening sight.
As a parent, you just do the best you can, and smile politely at all of the very helpful strangers that you meet along the way. And then you go home, and write about them on your blog!
