{Eighteen} Snooooooot! and a new cough

I haven't been able to breath since I got croup last month. Mumma refers to me as the snot factory. I had croup and felt better in a few short days but the congestion lingered and lingered and lingered. Finally I had felt better for one weekend but then there was a case of RSV at school and it seems as though I caught that. Needless to say, I haven't been feeling all that great but dada still calls me his jolly boy. I mean, why shouldn't I laugh? They say its the best medicine. So I may or may not have/had/been getting RSV. Or bronchitis.

And while I was at the doctors on Thursday, I found out I weigh 16 lbs. A pound of that could be phlegm though. 

{Seventeen} Four months old

These weeks are just flying by! This coming week will mark my four month birthday.

That makes mumma sad. I'm so old already and she doesn't get to spend enough quality time with me. She says the baby phase is already over and all she wants to do is hold me... and she never gets to. I know she loves me, she doesn't need to hold me all the time.

I like to sit up [with support] and try try try so hard to sit up from a laying position. I almost did it the other day. My parents were comparing me to my brother again about this subject matter and I guess he stayed still well until it was time to try to crawl, which was around seven months old. I watch my brother all the time, and he's very entertaining and I want to be like him. So I will try to roll, sit, crawl, walk, climb, etc., so I can be just like my big bro. Mom and dad think its so cute that I like my brother. Have you seen him? He is very funny. He likes me a lot too.

Last week I wiggled my way out of the boppy pillow and my swing. My parents try to prop me up at night so I can breath but they need a new plan.

{Sixteen} I am soggy

My clothes are wet. My hands are wet. My sleeves are wet. My bibs are wet. The shoulder of your shirt is wet. Because I drool. And drool. And leak. And slobber. And chew on my hands. And fingers. And drool.

Change my outfit. Change my bib. Change your shirt. And repeat. Bring out the teethers!

{Fifteen} Ticka Ticka Ticka

Mumma calls me her grey eyed boy. She's still all about the eye color infatuation. They are going to stay this color too.... lets call them blue steel. Everybody else calls me blue eyes but apparently they haven't seen real blue eyes. After mumma tells them to look again in natural light, then they go "ohhhh, you're right. they are grey". Or silver. But they do pick up blue reflection easily.

And wow am I highly sensitive and ticklish. When mumma rubs my feet, I can't control myself. And dada kisses and tickles my belly and neck, I giggle like a fool. It's torturous. Brayden tells mumma "ticka ticka baby christian" and then he holds up two fingers (I watch him physically fold his fingers down with the other hand) and says "goo-eee goo-eee. goo-eee bird got you" ["goo-eee" is Brayden's pronunciation of the goochy bird]

My hair is falling out. If I hear the term "male pattern baldness" one more time, I will cry. The new hair growth on top of my head is soft and spikey but the stuff i was born with on the sides and back is falling out now. It's really not attractive on my already extemely unfortunate odd shaped head (because I favor my left side).

{Fourteen} The Croup

My 2nd week of school, and I got sick. There was a confirmed case of RSV in Brayden's class and did you know that same virus causes croup? I didn't like having a fever or coughing like that but my parents got me fixed up in no time. I had to go back to that place that usually gives me shots but mumma was relieved that I didn't need steroids or breathing treatments. She says I'm too young and pure to have to put yucky stuff in my system. Mumma had to miss a day of work to take care of me and then it was the weekend. We cancelled plans and company and just hung out and nursed me back to health.

My parents are also sure Brayden brought it home. He's a walking germ. He never gets sick but he's a huge carrier. I guess he got dada sick a lot before I was around. Mumma and dada are certain I'm an angel too, no matter how bad I felt, I was still my jolly, happy, giggly, smiley self.