Poor Logan turned eight months this week, once again, with little fanfare, other than a brief thought, “Is it the 17th again?”
My chunk o’ love is sick again. His nose got all junky again, but he’s sleeping okay and not too fussy so I haven’t taken him in to look at his ears. Hopefully it’s just a cold.
He seems to like the crib and his new bedroom. More room to stretch out than the Pack n Play.
Logan is getting more and more mobile. If you set him in a room, he can scoot and roll to anywhere he’d like. He rocks on his knees and you can tell he is dying to sit up.
He eats like a champ. Recently I made him a bunch of homemade baby food. I freeze it in ice trays and pop the cubes into freezer bags for easy meals. I recently made sweet potato, carrot, broccoli, and mango cubes. He also eats bananas, applesauce, yogurt, various cereals, peas, green beans, pears, peaches, prunes. He still likes everything pureed smooth, and gags if it’s chunky.
He also still nurses five or so times a day, but will only nurse in his darkened, quiet bedroom. If there is any tiny distraction, he won’t nurse. Today when the carpets were drying, I had the ceiling fan on, and he would suck, suck, check out the fan. Suck, suck, check out the fan. He also only nurses now if he’s ready for bed. I tried so hard to do Babywise, nurse him when he wakes up, but he only wants to nurse to sleep now, and demands it when he’s sleepy. So I’m pretty much stuck at home until he’s weaned, unless I go out after I put him to bed.
He loves his crib, and still sleeps on his stomach. He will fall occasionally asleep in the Ergo, though. Yesterday when we visited a preschool classroom for Ben, he conked out in the Ergo, with his head rolled back.
His personality is demanding but good-natured. When he poops, he cries immediately to be changed. But he loves to belly laugh for Gavin, whose antics are his favorite. He screams quite a bit when things aren’t too his liking or he’s hungry or tired. On the other hand, he takes a quite a bit of abuse from Ben without protest. He is more likely to scream when I walk out of the room than when Ben full-force tackles him. Luckily for everyone, Logan’s pretty sturdy. I do have to say constantly, though, “Gentle with your brother!” “Don’t sit on your brother.” “Don’t squish your brother.” “Don’t kick/hit/throw things at your brother.”
Someday when Logan writes his “overcoming adversity” college essay, I’ll suggest, “You survived three-year-old Ben.”