Five months of...

Ruary Dale is five months old. Five months ago, I was lying in a hospital bed drugged to the gills thinking, "I am not ready!" They had just sliced me open and pulled out a gigantic, screaming, beautiful boy who would change everything. And did he!

First of all, Ruary is everything I could hope for in a son. He is an entertainer, I think. He is quick to smile, and as soon as he detects that he has an audience, he starts up the fake-coughing show, the screeching show, or now, the waving show. Whatever gets a laugh from someone is repeated because he loves it when we laugh (especially Grandma, who eats it all up!!!). He is also just plain gorgeous. Besides the delicious chubber-cheeks, he is pretty attractive. He still has blue eyes, and they are the same shade of blue as mine (sorry, Rick! He has my eyes. Just accept it.). But the hair is definitely taking a bit of a ginger tone, like his father. He is also a perfect combination of facial features from both of our families... that butt-chin is still as pronounced as ever, he has the LeClaire family mouth (physical-characteristic-wise... we'll see if he inherits the wit later on), and that adorable potato-nose that I love on my husband is definitely planted in the middle of my son's face. He also has Rick's eyebrows and expressions. There is no denying that he is cute.

For posterity, here are some things he enjoys:
-His jumperoo... this is the best invention ever. He feels like he is standing, which is a hobby of his.
-Watching his dogs. They are a source of amazement and entertainment. They are also very soft, which he found out when he started reaching for them.
-He loves his bug toy (Amelia and Tony know what's up there!).
-He likes to laugh at Uncle Steve. Even a photograph of Steve will cause him to at least smile, if not screech. Yeah, soak it up, Steve.
-Owen. He is a life force unequaled by anyone else in the family, and as soon as Ruary can walk, he will be his shadow.
-Naps. Yep, the kid loves to sleep. We are quite fortunate that, most of the time, he is easy to get to sleep if we don't let him go too long without a nap.
-FOOOOOOD. He loves his bottle, but he also really likes to watch us eat our food.
-Grabbing Mom's hair. This is why I am wearing it up most of the time these days.
-Being naked. Strip him down to nothing but a diaper, and if it is at least room temperature, he is a happy-scrappy boy.
-Elmo. Yes, the furry red muppet-devil has already sunk his talons into my child. Rick played the Andrea Bocelli/Elmo duet on YouTube one day, and he has been hooked ever since.

Watching him discover the world is incredible. I love how he looks in the mirror and smiles... I don't know when he will become aware that the baby in the mirror is actually him, but in the meantime, that baby is fun because he is always there! He also loves to touch things he sees now. He grabs at photos on the wall, and the tree painted on our bathroom wall is a long-time friend of his worthy of screeches. And every time we take him somewhere new, he spends a lot of time studying his surroundings. For instance, when we went to dinner the other night (Urban Cafe, for the first time since pre-baby), he was asleep in his car seat when we arrived. He slept through ordering and salads, and when he awoke, he just sat in his seat with WIDE eyes, watching people walk by and gawking at the food that was delivered to the table. Plus, the fish tank was a big hit. Bottom line, this little blank slate is constantly soaking up everything that his eyes, ears, fingers and nose come in contact with, and I can't imagine starting from scratch and learning everything again like he is... I feel privileged to watch this process.

He's a good kid.

About me, at five months (if you care... I know you all visit this blog for Ruary news, so feel free to skip part two):
Yep, still pumping. If you didn't know, it's called "EP-ing" (Exclusively Pumping) to do what I do. There is an entire online community of women who do this (who I unfortunately did not discover until I had been at it for about two and a half months) that I consult if I have a problem. And I have had several. But it was nice to find out that I am not the only one doing this, that I am not a freak, and that I am not the only person in the world who gets up at 2:30 am to make sure my boobs don't explode. For a while, I was thinking, "is this worth it? I am tired!" All I have to do is look at Ruary's shiny, fat cheeks and I know that I made the right decision. I have the supply, so there was no excuse... and as of today, Ruary hasn't had any formula since he was two months old (we had to use a couple ounces here and there while my supply was establishing itself). Since he gets antibodies to any illness I am exposed to and fight off, he is one healthy little guy... I am exposed to all sorts of nasty bugs from my teenagers, all of which I have conquered. Yep, the 2:30 am pumping is so worth it. At six months, we will try solids and I will cut out the night pumping and go from 5x a day to 3 or 4, I hope, which means my first eight hours of continuous sleep since, well, I was about 5 months pregnant. That will feel AMAZING.

My hair is falling out, in handfuls. Any other post-partum broads have this happen to them? Sure, everything I read states that this is normal (and it began at three months postpartum like clockwork!), but I'm starting to worry that it will never end and I will have to get a mom haircut, and eventually go bald. Don't get me wrong... some people look cute as a bug with short hair (and part of me feels like I could sport an Ellen DeGeneres 'do and perhaps pull it off), but I have never, ever had a short cut that I liked. So I will hold onto my long locks, kicking and screaming, until every last hair falls out of my head and my lumpy skull is exposed for the world to see... because I will NOT get a mom haircut and I will NOT wear mom jeans and I will NOT lick my finger to remove dirt from Ruary's face (okay, that last one... I have already done it. Sorry.).

I am a better mom than I thought I would be. I was afraid that I had wasted all of my nurturing on my puppies, but there was an abundance left over for my hairless puppy. Ruary smiles, a lot, and I think I might have had a part in that. I am trying to teach him how to be fearless... that the dogs barking is funny, not scary, and that every new person he meets can also make him smile. The instincts have kicked in for sure, and I am now SOOOO much more confident in my own ability than I was at the beginning, when those STUPID hormones were coursing through my veins and saying to me, "You will NEVER get this mom thing down and you will have to rely on other people FOREVERRRRR!!!". Those hormones can suck it. I still have my moments of crying, but all in all I know I can do this. A couple of days ago, I had to go back in to school in the afternoon to lead my advisory students in an activity (normally this is done in the morning). I freaked out, thinking that I couldn't possibly take Ruary with me to school, that it would be a disaster. But, at 2:00, as soon as he showed signs of waking up from his nap, I scooped him up, changed him, put him in a cute one-piece with yellow socks, got him into the car, and made it to school by 2:20, which gave me ten minutes to prepare for my students. I put Ruary in the Ergo and he happily watched my sophomores ask me questions for a half an hour. I'm sure he was thinking, "Why does Mom talk in a different voice than she does at home?" But it was FINE. Now I feel like I can do anything! But in my opinion, those hormones that render you useless in your own mind are so counter-productive. Shouldn't we get a dose of super-hormones at the beginning that make us invincible? What is the function of those terrible chemicals? To humble you and make you a better person? Ugh. Whatever, it's over.

Okay, that's all for now. Happy belated Earth Day to everyone!