Monday Monday

I have this really horrible habit of wanting to eat whatever other people are eating. Other people typically being my husband or my sisters. Though, I admit that when anyone orders French fries, I have seriously considered sneaking one while they're not looking. To not do so involves a little tact and a lot of self-restraint. But mostly self-restraint.

Fortunately, I do not have to practice restraint with family. Doesn't a warm, toasted bagel with a slathering of cream cheese always seem so much more delicious when someone else fixes it? I think so. Likewise with a simple ham sandwich. Don't get me wrong, I could easily slap some meat and cheese between two slices of bread and call it a day, but oh how my mouth waters when I see Chels making one. Chels even knows to make two of whatever she's making to avoid the inevitable sharing she will be obligated to do if she only makes one. Smart girl.

I tell you all of this because B is sitting two feet from me having fixed the most splendid smelling bowl of popcorn that has ever touched my nostrils. And all I can think about is eating it. If I ask for a handful, I will surely ask for seconds. I'm like the mouse in If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. If I get seconds, I will take too much and then end up eating three-fourths of B's snack without ever really meaning to do so. Sigh.

Let it be known that the pediatrician gave me a good scolding today for getting up in the middle of the night with Baby B. Her question was innocent enough...

Doc: How's he sleeping?
Me: Well, he's started this thing where he wants to get up and play. At 2:30am.
Doc: What do you do?
Me: I get up with him. (Duh!)
Doc: QUIT DOING THAT! You're never going to get sleep. He's six months old now. He's not crying because he's hungry or lonely. He's crying because he knows you will come running. I'm going to tell you something, you're going to be saying 'no' to this kid a lot for the next 21 years - get used to it. So start saying no now - no I will not get you out of bed at 2:30am. If it's dark outside, he should be sleeping.......

And then she began to sound a lot like the teacher from Charlie Brown and I did a bunch of head nodding, and I think I finally agreed to let him cry it out. Could you imagine the beating I would have received if I told her he still slept in his pack-n-play NEXT TO MY BED. Thank goodness her doc-dar didn't let her know that he's been sleeping in my bed at some point during the night every night since he's been born too. Oh, and I do love this doctor and her straight-forwardness.

So, as of tonight, Baby B is officially sleeping in his crib. And we did let him cry it out. For everyone's sake, it only lasted about 20 minutes. And I did go up to put his paci in once and tell him that I love him to infinity and beyond and back infinity times. I'm not even allowed to get up in the middle of the night to nurse him. This is going to be hard.

Lest I forget to tell you that Baby B is in the 92nd percentile for height (27 in.) and weight (20.8 lbs). That's my boy.

In other news, he tried bananas today which resulted in a bitter beer face. See below.