Seven Months with Atticus

He’s not officially seven months old until Wednesday, but tomorrow we’re taking him on a 20-hour journey to the other side of the planet, and we lose Wednesday somewhere in the middle there (we leave on Tuesday, and arrive on Thursday, but it only takes 20 hours…WHAT HAPPENED TO WEDNESDAY), so there will be no photo on the rocking chair until we get back. Or maybe I’ll do it tonight, if I don’t have enough other things to do to prepare for tomorrow’s adventure.

Anyway! My kid, he keeps getting bigger. This month he basically just became an even larger, cuter, heart-asploding handsome little chubby-cheeked monster. He laughs at everything now, and holy fuck you guys I am so intensely in love with him. It literally hurts to look at him sometimes. I physically feel it in my insides, this deep, overwhelming desire to hug and protect and squeeze and observe and just BE near him.

jihwesdkuhwieruhiuhjhj$#%$^$#%@#$% brain: kaput.

He is still stuffing everything into his mouth.

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EVERYTHING. He somehow added a new channel to our roku player by chewing on the remote.

The weather has been totally incredible lately. Gorgeous sunny skies with a nice breeze. I spent most of all this month’s weekends on picnics with various friends.

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HOW CUTE IS THIS BABY

Yesterday A3 and I had a baby photo shoot for Easter. We got a bunch of cute pictures of them sitting up and looking adorable, but my favorite is this one where you can see them as preteens, totally over it.

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BabyClaws is being a good sport, but Atticus is DONE.

I’ve been taking a ton of pictures of the kid; for every picture I post here, there’s about 53 in my phone. Having camera phones makes taking photos so easy – I end up with a dozen new pictures every day. But I rarely have any of me with him, since I’m always taking the picture. After reading this article (and after finishing the resulting sappy cry), I’ve decided to ask people to take my picture with Atticus more often. I love baby pictures of myself with my parents – it makes me so happy to see what they looked like when I was so small. I want to make sure I provide that to Atticus, too.

So, here we are on Sunday:

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And here he is with the Lumberjack, totally cracking each other up:

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(if you follow me on instagram, you can see more of those! user: dkingneece)

I am wildly, insanely, overwhelmingly in love with my little boy.

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Flowergate 2013

I forgot about the best part of last month!

VALENTINES DAY

aka, the day I ruined my son’s life.

In case you have forgotten, I used to be a burlesque dancer. I have a shit-ton of costumes, sparkles, feathers, and random fabulous stuff that no longer gets much play. Therefore, when the holidays come around, LOOK OUT. Time to get fancy.

Everyone likes to dress up a baby! Everyone on facebook was posting photos of their cute little babies* in pink & red valentiney outfits! I was at work, and decided that first thing when I got home I would do the same.

* all these babies were girls. I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN.

So, I got home, the Lumberjack went off to class, and I dressed up the baby. ADORABLE.

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This baby is ready for V-Day

Of course, since I am me, when it came to posting him on the FB, I went for humor. Therefore, I posted this:
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with the caption “Unlike his mother, Atticus does not enjoy dressing up for thematic photoshoots.”

AND THEN EVERYONE LOST THEIR DAMN MINDS.

My aunt threatened to take away my “mom card,” the Lumberjack’s cousin asked him if he knew and approved of this (luckily the Lumberjack responded with, essentially, “who the fuck cares”), and one of his random friends told me to “stick with bats and gloves.” At work, when I mentioned it to two coworkers (who are also my friends on FB) and laughed, thinking they would also find the response ridiculous, they both individually gave me shit about it.

In case you can’t see the photo, yes: I clipped a flower to my son’s hair. ALERT THE FUCKING AUTHORITIES.

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Please send help. My mom is clearly unfit.

I laughed it off to a point, but then…what the everloving fuck is wrong with everyone? It is a flower. It is a baby. It is a flower on a baby. I didn’t even pick a pink one! It’s red! He’s dressed in red & white! I THOUGHT THOSE WERE ACCEPTABLE BOY COLORS.

I get so frustrated with the stupid fucking gender rules around kids and their clothes. Everything is so strict, and people get so upset if you don’t follow them correctly. And no one can explain why. With one coworker, I tried to make her verbalize what, exactly, the problem was. She said “But…he’s a boy! It’s mean!” what’s mean? “Putting a flower on him!” why? “Because he’s a boy!” and so on. Circular logic IS NOT LOGIC.

Finally when my cousin made some crack about how one day he’s going to be a teenager, I responded:
“Yep, and if I do my job right, he’ll be a teenager with a strong sense of self who isn’t embarrassed or threatened by a flower. And besides, who are we to assume he won’t grow up to LIKE wearing flowers? He’s a baby – he doesn’t even know what gender IS, let along how he wants to express his. So it’s my responsibility to show him myriad options, then love and support whatever he chooses. So until he can dress himself, he gets camouflage outfits, pink pajamas, onesies with a football on the butt, and a flower in his hair. I think he’ll be okay.”

fucking hell.

Six Months with Atticus

Six months! Atticus is chomping at the bit to grow up.

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ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
Seriously though, he is chomping on EVERYTHING. The little bastard has two teeth (!!!) and he gnaws on everything possible. And YES he has bitten my boob. And NO yelping in pain once doesn’t make him stop. It does make him burst into tears, however. And yet, he’ll do it again.

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This month we watched the Super Bowl. We did not win.

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He’s sitting like a champ, now (and look at him playing nicely with others!) He is also ROLLING THE FUCK OVER.

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He likes to do it when no one’s watching, however.

He has also spent some quality time with his Aunt Pippi, aka my parents’ dog.*

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Sometimes she likes it more than he does.

*I was walking with my mom, Pippi & Atticus in her neighborhood, and a woman up the street leaned down to Atticus and said “Oh, this must be the new baby!” and my mom starts trotting Pippi around, saying “I know! Isn’t she the sweetest?!” I said “Mom, she was talking about your grandson.” OOPS. I’ll be sure to tell Atticus about this when he’s nice and impressionable.

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We started giving him solids for a brief second or two, then Atticus choked a bit, vomited everywhere, and the Lumberjack decided we were done. I THINK I have convinced him to start trying again. I want him to try all the foods! The Lumberjack wants him to not choke to death. I think we can find a middle ground.

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At some point, this baby turned into a child. WEIRD. And amazing. Sometimes I think I’m going to puke from all the emotions I have when I watch him sleep. He’s absolutely incredible.