Declan With The Baby In The Mirror

Poor Declan. After spending nearly two hours in a hospital waiting room with me, AGAIN, he was hungry for a little guy time. With the baby in the mirror.

How cute is he?

We've read your MRI, schedule an appointment right away. Thank you, bye-bye.

Alyssa had an MRI at Research Medical Center Friday afternoon. While she was being scanned, Declan and I hung out in the radiology waiting room. Declan entertained several patients with his smiles, his plastic spoons, and his unusual habit of wanting to hang upside down to view the world. He lasted for about an hour, got a little whimpery and fell asleep on my shoulder. I rearranged him, and puppy dog, and we waited for his mama.

When Alyssa rejoined us an hour and a half later, she said that she was told that if she waits, the doctor will read the films and give us results. However, there was a new trauma arrival in the ER the neurosurgeon must deal with first. That's fair, and we are glad to wait. Waiting now, rather than suffering through the weekend, is fine with us. Declan is now awake and restless. I take him and the stroller out to the hallway and walk and walk and walk to entertain him. I love the long straight, uncluttered halls of Research and always have. I remember visiting my mother in the lobby of Research circa 1960 after her head surgery. Research is comfortable and familiar, and I don't mind the quiet time with my thoughts.

However.

One hour passes. Alyssa asks the radiology desk to call the radiologist reading her films to inquire about our status. Alyssa leaves for the bathroom, and of course, the MRI staff person calls. I take the call and am told the radiologist has read the films, conferred with the neurosurgeon and Alyssa is to make a follow up appointment right away.

Wait, we stayed for THIS? No, I told the woman, we were told to wait for results, not for directives to schedule an appointment. This is not okay, I said through slightly clenched teeth.

I'm told to call the neurosurgeon's office and maybe they can tell us more. Well, hello, the office is connected to the hospital. I think we will be one of those annoying patients who show up and want answers. I think that's fair exchange for spending several hours stuck in a hospital basement. With a baby. During nap time.

We walk over and ask nicely for results. The staff behind the counter resemble deer stunned by headlights. I don't think they are used to patients showing up and demanding results (albeit nicely). Someone skitters away and gets the PA, who kindly informs us that there was no change since Alyssa's MRI in June.

So there.

Funny

Hi, Uncle Kyle.

Uncle Kyle is funny.

A Day with Deanna....Rose that is.

Alyssa and I decided to enjoy a gorgeous fall day and take Declan to Deanna Rose Children's Farmstead. Over the past 20+ years, it's changed from a small park to an amazing little touch of country in the city.


Alyssa & Declan heading into the Farmstead.


The geese are resting in the cool shade, it was easily in the mid-70's by this time.


Declan and his new favorite toy. Plastic measuring spoons. Yes, folks, you read that right.


Goats, goats, goats everywhere. I would not like them here or there, I would not like them anywhere. Channeling Dr. Seuss! In spite of this sweet little goat wanting to nibble on my skirt, they were cute, cute, cute, with bulging tummies. (More about bulging tummies coming your way soon.)


Alyssa bought Goat Chow, so the goats all chased, followed, tugged at and jumped on her.


Declan still chewing on his spoons.


Hi Declan! Mema loves you, you are so cute!


Snack time! Now, no one get jealous, but Declan's got himself a banana to gnaw on in that little mesh bag.


"Ew, maybe someone else would like it", he muses silently.


"I'm not too certain about this banana business."


"Yuck...."


"I'm trying to like it....", he vows.


"How about an In-n-Out Burger right here on my tray??"


Trying out the stroller as a teething ring.


Declan, ready to move on to something different.


Hi Declan, you are such a good baby!


Seriously, darling! You are surrounded by nature, soak it up, let it inspire you.


This is a pen of pregnant goats. About thirty of them, to one baby daddy.


Hello, are you Baby Daddy?


Or is it you? (We had to be discreet with the baby there, so didn't check out anyone's "junk".)


Hi Declan!


Big boy on the fence, pretending he can do it all by himself.


No! Please don't eat the daises! (name that movie)


Standing proud amongst the flowers.


Going for another snack.


Bottle time = sleepy time. Wait for it.


...And there it is folks, just as predicted.

Declan had nature thrust upon him and he lived to tell the tale. And what better way to end the morning than a milk coma?

Hey you! Declan, I'm talking to you. You are 7 months old now and you have stripped the cute clean off the vine.

At 7 months you are almost sitting up and almost crawling. We seem to be stuck in The World of Almost. It's okay, though. I've warned your mother that her world is about to change. She smiles and says she knows, but really? She doesn't. Not nearly. Haha, the joke is totally on her! But, watch you prove me wrong and be a baby that just sits and watches the world go by...but I suspect not. When Jackie and Jane both held you this week, you just started climbing up them like a monkey. Oh! That reminds me, it comes naturally. Your Great Grandpa once said that your Uncle Kyle clung to his back like a monkey to a branch (at night during a thunderstorm, understandable.)

You are back to food and really digging it. In fact, last week you had apple cider donut and cut up cooked carrots. You gagged and made funny faces, which is totally normal. And your bottle? You hold it now, thanks to a nifty new bottle with handles. You usually can be found hanging on the bottle with your left hand, patting the bottle with your right. Shaking occasionally...doesn't Bond prefer his stirred? Wait, no Martini's yet for you. And when you are finished with your bottle, you just pitch it away. An empty bottle is no good to you anymore and you have zero interest in it.

You are still quite the little fella but you will catch up. Your britches hang down, you are in dire need of a pair of suspenders. And maybe a bowtie? Speaking of bowties, your mama had an appointment last week with a bowtie-wearing neurosurgeon. We liked him, and we hope that he will bring us nothing but good news for your mama.

We found out this week that you will be having a girl cousin. Second cousin actually, but who's counting? Aunt Cameo and Uncle Joe had a sonogram and were told with 80% certainty that they are having a girl. Eighty percent? I think we can do better than that. One quick look by Elaine confirmed this exciting news.

And speaking of cousins, your baby girl first cousin in Germany is due just after Christmas. We think her name will be Viktoria. We have so many hopes and wishes for this precious baby, and pray hard they will come true.

I think you have an empathic soul. Monday, lunching with all the girls, Baby Avery started crying. Suddenly and unexpectedly, you burst out crying, too. Avery's crying really upset you, and I think that's sweet and tender-hearted. Since you never cry, this was quite the event, earning you lots of love and pats from the girls. Way to work it.

You raise your eyebrows, you do a funny cough/laugh thing when you know we are trying to get you to smile. It's like you are trying your darnedest to accommodate, but what a chore. I swear I've seen you raise one eyebrow, which is interesting because although I've always wanted to do that, I can't and I don't know anyone on our side of the family who can.

You're growing and changing and learning and discovering fast, and it's a joy to watch and be a part of. I can't wait to see what the next month brings.

Love, Mema

Six Months, or How To Make A MAW** Happy

Dear Declan,

Oh, dear. You had me at hello, but still....your smile shatters my heart into a thousand brilliants.

At six months, you are squirmy.

You are happy, an easy baby. Now. Don't think we've forgotten about the first two months. No, Sir Ree Bob.

You are back to just formula. That's what you get for being small and preferring food to formula. It'll pass.

You are quick as a wink at rolling both ways and popping up on your hands and knees.

You are this close to sitting up.

You are a champion night time sleeper, and a good napper, most days.

You have no stranger anxiety, but your parents are so easy-going that this doesn't surprise me.

You are a drooling fiend. There'd better be teeth popping through soon to payoff handling a baby in a constant state of slime. Seriously dude.

You are doing this really funny "pose" that Mama has coined your "GQ" pose. I don't want to embarrass you to the internet, but O-M-G it is funny. I keep getting head pictures of Burt Reynolds posing for Playgirl. You're way cuter. Way.

You like to grab hair, especially Charlee's, but I understand...she is really pretty.

Even though you are small, you still manage to have one little fat roll on each thigh and tiny little dimples on your hands. Strong work, cause girls love this stuff.

You've finally put some effort into growing hair. It's a good thing. We were sorta hankering for a little red but I think we're going to fall short. I know you would if you could.

You hung out a little with Uncle Kyle today and taught him an important baby lesson. When baby falls forward and bumps his widdle nose, baby needs to be picked up, held close, with a few little back pats and soft words for good measure. With two women yelling instructions at Uncle Kyle simultaneously, he won't soon forget today's lesson.

You're the best.

Love, Mema

**MAW = Middle -aged woman