His father's son

In case you thought I was joking about Brady being an expressive child, here is video evidence.  If your last name isn't Hoots or Howe, this might be the most boring minute of your day, but hey, I don't remember forcing you on to this site.

Brady is a champ whenever I take him out.  He does great in strollers, cars, and stores, normally sleeping through any bump and all noises that are thrown his way.  Yesterday, I took him to a friend's son's 4th grade AAU basketball game.  The game prior to theirs had gone into overtime and although it was the consolation game, I think these parents believed in their hearts that if their sons won, they would go home with not only a 3rd place trophy, but a full ride college scholarship, which would inevitably lead to  a first-round NBA draft pick.  With about 10 seconds to go, the team that led by two was fouled. The boy who shot the two free throws was greeted with a gym full of boos.  Did I mention these were 4th graders?  In a consolation game?  The boo-birds' mission was completed as the boy missed his free throws. The trailing team inbounded the ball and dribbled over half court for a chance for a last second shot for the win.  Two dribbles over half court and the ball was heaved towards the basket.  It didn't make the Top 10 on Sportscenter, but only because everyone in the gym was too busy screaming and didn't have the wherewithal to record the buzzer beating bank shot that won the game.  Chaos ensued and yes, parents did rush the court.

The reason for this tangent was to 1) illustrate the sad state of children's sports - I want Brady to participate in team sports, but if loonies like this can be avoided, I'll be more eager to sign him up.  Maybe a parent-free league? 2) illustrate Brady's ability to sleep through anything.  The  people in that gym screamed louder than tweens at a Justin Bieber concert and Brady didn't bat an eyelash.  The video you see is a typical moment 1-2 minutes after coming into a cool, quiet house after an afternoon out.  God forbid Brady continue sleeping when he gets home.  Brady doesn't like to sit still and can't stand the quiet.  He is officially his father's son.

Mooo

How am I to resist?

Milk.  My world seems to revolve around it these days.  And thanks to my spitting baby, it seems to be everywhere; on Brady's clothes, on my clothes, in Brady's (receding) hair, in my hair, in Brady's mouth, in my mouth. What??!! I know this requires an explanation and with only a slight fear of oversharing, I will:  One of my favorite physical attributes of Brady is his kissable lips, and kiss them I do.  Eric keeps telling me I'm going to make Brady into a sissy, but he has to work all day so fortunately, he can only monitor my kiss count at night.  So a few day ago, I was sitting on the couch and Brady was on my legs looking up at me.  He had eaten over an hour before and coming up on his next feeding, so one would expect any spit up from the previous feeding would have already made itself known.  You may see where this story is going.  I leaned down to kiss those sweet lips and at the very moment our lips touched (ok, this is weirdly sounding like a trashy romance novel), Brady's last meal made an appearance, which caused the maker of that meal to spit-up a bit herself.  Seriously, a half second earlier and I would have been in the clear; a half second later and I would have known better.  But apparently, Brady was teaming up with his father and trying to deter my affections.  He must not have gotten the memo that his mom is stubborn and loves him very much.  A combination that only means more kissing, not less.  And my guess is he doesn't have many more moves in his arsenal to deter my affections.  At least for now.

Speaking of milk, and kissing, I'm kissing dairy goodbye, beginning today.  The Zantac has not seemed to solve Brady's tummy problems and the next step is to cut out dairy products from my diet, to see if Brady has sensitivity to cow's milk.  The irony of this is not lost on me as I am producing enough milk to feed twins, yet the milk I'm drinking might be hurting Brady.  Did I mention I love dairy?  The pediatrician asked me a few weeks ago, when we were inquiring about Brady's problem, if I ate a lot of dairy.  I said no.  Then I went home and discovered how many things I ate that qualified as dairy.  Butter, cheese, cottage cheese, cream cheese, ice cream, sour cream, yogurt: not sure where I thought these all fit in the food pyramid, but I was disappointed we couldn't squeeze these in the grain category, which frankly in my opinion, has the whole bottom floor and plenty of room.  This isn't the way I wanted to lose those extra 7 pounds, but if I can fit back in my old clothes and Brady feels better, I'll consider that a win for everyone.  Anyone with some good dairy/soy-free recipes, please send them my way!

On a positive note, we went to the doctor today and Brady is looking healthy and weighing in at 10 lbs 12 oz. We saw our friends Shelley and Jonathan in the lobby with their 3 week old son, Winston.  It's weird to see Brady looking big next to anyone!

Letters to Brady: 1 month

Dear Brady,

You are 1 month old today.  As fast as it seems to have gone, it is hard to believe that I didn't know you a month ago.  You've barely been in the world a full credit card billing cycle, but you're such an essential and central part of my life, it is hard to imagine my world without you.  Thankfully, I don't have do.  God-willing, you're stuck with me for at least the next 18 years.  I don't want to spend all my time telling you how much you're growing, because that is as cliche as a parent can be...but buddy, you are growing.  You're changing before my eyes and sometimes, I wish I could DVR you so I could pause, rewind, and replay you at my own pace.

You are one of the most expressive babies I know.  Your sounds and faces are ever changing and I could watch you for hours and be entertained (and have been known to do so on occasion).  There is a face you make where pucker your lips and crane your neck up like you're trying to kiss the ceiling.  I always thought I'd be the parent who has to play "bad cop" but in 5 years, if you show me that face after tracking in mud on our white carpet and knocking over the expensive vase, all will be forgiven.  And here, have a couple cookies.

You wear your emotions on your sleeve onesie - I guess you get that from your dad.  Every squeak and grunt makes your parents laugh and don't get me startred on your snoring.  Someone in church last week commented on the volume during the service...and they weren't even in our same row.  That's another trait from your father's side.  Speaking of noises, your farting ability is impressive.  Sometimes, you wake yourself up with your explosions and many times, I have to ask your dad if the noise came from him or you.  Of all the noises you make, your sneezes are my favorite.  Your arms fly over your head when you sneeze like you're signaling a touchdown and you often sneeze in 3's, a trait you get from your mom.

One noise that I don't like to hear from you is your cry and lately, I hear it all too frequently.  The past few weeks have been tough for both of us and it is a helpless feeling not being able to make you feel better when I see you in pain.  The screaming Brady makes me appreciate the peaceful, happy Brady and I savor those moments we have together.

You may be only a month old, but you have some old-man qualities.  Besides the snoring, you also have hair growing in some strange spots.  These places include your back and your ears.  You were born with a full head of hair, but in the last few days, we've discovered you have a receding hair line.  We're trying to work the come-over to combat the hair loss, but you might just have to embrace the baldness.  Or find a hat.

Before you were born, my biggest worry was the nights.  I'm a 8-hour-a-night kinda girl, and I knew a newborn would cramp my sleeping style.  I've made some pleasant discoveries over the past few weeks.  While I'm not sleeping any more than I expected, and maybe even a little less, it's not so bad.  There is something special about being up in the middle of the night, just me and you (and sometimes dad).  For whatever crazy reason, your reflux does not act up at night, so I rarely hear you cry.  You make noises to let me know you're hungry (not loud enough to wake your dad), and I get the privilege of feeding you.  Yes, I often feel like a cow, but I cherish those moments, especially at night, when the only noise in the house is your happy gulping.  Make no mistake, I will also cherish the moments when you don't require eating every 2 hours.

You like to sleep on your tummy.  On your first night of life, you slept on my chest in the hospital and since then, it has been your favorite napping location.  I know there will be a time when you're too old to sleep on my chest, but until then, you'll always have a place in, and on my heart.

In an age when parents overpraise their kids, I say without hesitation, you are perfect in every way and I love you very much.

Love, Mom

Room to grow

Eric bought Brady a life vest on Friday.  According to the label, it is supposed to fit 0-30 lbs.  I haven't met very many 0 pound babies, but I'm pretty confident if they existed, this life vest wouldn't cut it if they went overboard.  Eric is very eager to get Brady on the boat, but Mom (and Grandma) nixed that idea on Friday.  It's Father's Day and while Eric would love to be on the lake today, he has to work instead.  A man can dream, though, so here is a picture of Brady in his new life vest.   

Tummy troubles

Brady was cruising through the first two weeks of his life quite nicely, but hit a roadblock about a week ago when Mama's milk and Brady's tummy started to have some disagreements.  Unfortunately, nobody walks away a winner in that fight.  Here's how it usually plays out: Brady is happy as a clam, enjoying one of his many meals of the day and suddenly, its like some bully walks up, socks him in the gut and Brady's sweet little self starts writhing around in obvious pain.  He'll let out the first of several wails letting the world know just how uncomfortable he is.  He'll stop for a breath and look up at his mom with sad eyes that say, "Are you just going to sit there and let this happen?"  Then he'll burp like a man which will be followed by a good deal of spit-up...just to drive home the point that he's not happy with the situation.

We think Brady has acid reflux and after realizing it wasn't going away on its own, we started him on Zantac. We are waiting to see its effects (nothing noticeable yet) and praying it works.  The good news is despite the high volume of spit-up, Brady is obviously keeping some milk down, evidenced by his amazing weight gain.  He went to the doctor last week and at 19 days old, Brady was weighing in at 9.5 lbs... a 2.5 lb weight gain since birth!  When I told Eric that it was making me sad that some of Brady's smallest outfits don't fit him anymore, he asked if I was going to be one of those moms that cry when her kids go off to school.  Of course not, but my allergies might be acting up that day and I just finished chopping an onion thankyouverymuch.

Eric is working basketball camp this week and next (he is as happy about this as Brady is after his meals), so my mom and dad came in from Iowa to lend some extra hands and meet their grandson.  Brady has enjoyed the extra attention and I have enjoyed the help.  Being able to hand off your screaming child to someone else has its perks!

Eric conducting business before camps starts

Grandpa and Brady

Getting ready to take a dip in the pool

Naked sweaty baby

Last week, we hired a photographer to take some newborn pictures of Brady.  I had found Melissa Tsao online and after booking our session, she sent me instructions on how to prepare.  She likes her babies naked, sleepy, and warm.  Easy enough...just take off his clothes, turn off the AC, feed him, and good to go, right?  Melissa came at 10:30 am and the first thing we did was open the windows while she set up her "studio" in our family room.  Then she pulled out her space heater.  Did I mention it was 95 degrees outside that day?  We stripped Brady down and tried to put him to sleep.  Of course, my child, who usually sleeps all day, was wide-eyed as can be as his mom and dad stared at him and tried to will him to sleep.  She did a few "awake" poses and then he ate and we eventually got him to sleep...for a bit.  While it seems counter intuitive to want your model asleep, the key photographic advantage to a sleeping baby is that you can contort them into all sorts of adorable positions. The key disadvantage to a naked baby is they are free to relieve themselves where ever they please with no means to contain their gifts. 

I'm not sure who was more mad at me, my baby or my husband, who had to be toweled off during his modeling scene (and at this point, it was difficult to find anything that hadn't yet been peed on).  I told him beauty is pain but the old adage didn't seem to inspire him. 

 

Clearly, he is not watching enough America's Next Top Model.  After 5 1/2 hours in our 87 degree house (I think her average photo shoot is 3 hours), I was left with a sweaty baby, an ill husband, but I think you'll agree, some adorable pictures!  Our photographer was great and I highly recommend her to anyone with a newborn.  Compared to others in her field, she is reasonably priced and does a fantastic job.  The patience required to do her job, (especially on this particular day) is quite impressive!  Click here to see more pictures of Brady on her blog.

On the move

Brady had a big weekend that began with his first of what is sure to be many sporting events.  We went to the baseball game on Friday night and sat up in the suite so we could avoid the crowds.  Brady didn't seem too impressed with the game and true to form, slept through most of it.  The chancellor and his wife were also sitting in the suite and the chancellor's wife is what you call a "super-fan."  If you ever go to a Carolina basketball game, look across the bench before tip-off and you won't have a problem spotting her.  During the "Jump Around" song, she will be the frantic woman bouncing enthusiastically with her hands up "raising the roof."  Needless to say, she was clapping and yelling during the baseball game and the fact that Brady was able to sleep through it was pretty impressive.

Dad and Brady at the Bell Tower

On Saturday, we were in Greensboro and met up with one of Eric's old friends from Newton.  Pamela just had a baby girl 5 weeks ago and Brady got to meet his new friend, Kylie.



"Gimme a fist pound"

Brady: "Seriously, how am I supposed to impress the ladies if I'm sitting in a pink Boppy?"

Kylie: "I'm not sure about him...I've heard about those Hoots boys."



We went to church on Sunday and Brady was very well behaved - don't quiz him on the sermon though, because he slept through most the service.  We also took a trip to the Smith Center and watched some pick-up basketball.  Dad hopes he shows a little more enthusiasm for basketball in the future.



"I"m awake!"

 Brady started the 3rd week of his life with a bang.  Eric was changing his diaper this morning before heading to work and I heard a cry from the nursery.  It didn't come from Brady, however, but from Eric who had just been pooped on!  He was calling for back-up as his hand was covered with Brady's early morning gift.  Happy Monday, everyone!

Night owl

Since Brady was born a Hoots, we decided to go with an owl theme for our nursery.  If I had known that Brady was a literalist and would take on the qualities of an owl, I would have rethought my decorating scheme.  Overall, Brady is a good baby, but he has his own ideas when it comes to sleeping at night.  Some nights are better than others and last night was particularly rough.  Here's how it went down:

We headed upstairs around 11 after Brady's feeding and at the end of the 3rd quarter of the Mavs/Heat game.  Eric changed Brady and put him down in his sleeper which is next to our bed.  Brady did not sleep.  We watched the incredible end of the basketball game and then Eric took Brady into his nursery to see if he would sleep in his crib and give me an hour or so of sleep before he needed to be fed again.  Eric set up camp in the nursery.

I got a solid hour of sleep before Eric brought Brady in for his 1 am feeding.  Eric was off duty and slept until morning.  Brady, on the other hand, slept minimally from 1 - 6.  I would rock him until I was convinced he was fast asleep and would try to lay him down ever so gently.  Sometimes, those blue eyes that are so beautiful during the day would snap open like someone just yelled "Free milk!" and then the fussing would begin.  Worse than that though, are the times I would put him down and listen to the beautiful sound of his rhythmic snores.  I'd close my eyes, give myself an imaginary pat on the back (too sleepy for a real one) and begin to drift off to the beautiful land they call Sleep.  About this time, Brady would snap out of it and remember that Sleep wasn't a place he was supposed to go at night and if he couldn't go, neither could I.

Eric's bed

There were some feedings and diaper changes in that 5 hour stretch, but honestly, I don't know how many or how much I actually slept.  My husband did get some evil stares envious glances tossed his way throughout the night, although he was comatose so I don't think they affected him much.  Not sure if was more annoyed or impressed that he could sleep through it all.  He did get up to change Brady before he went to work around 8.  We knew he needed to be changed since Brady actually woke himself up with one of his farts and gave his parents a fit of laughter.  Brady sensed that dad missed out on the excitement of the night, so he waited until the dirty diaper came off and decided on a re-do, pooping all over the changing table.  Mom may or may not have been laughing to herself when she heard dad's cries from the other room.  

Above is a picture of Brady at 11 am this morning, snoozing quite soundly in his sleeper.  You would have thought this thing had metal spikes in it last night. There is definitely a reason God made babies so cute!