{Twenty-two} Rock and Roll! And roll. And roll.

My head was turned into a very cool 3D image yesterday. We found out that there is no pressure on my brain from my extremely misshapen head after my head scan. I don’t think I want to wear a helmet but I also don’t want to live with my deformed face forever. But I still have a lot of growing to do. There is a chance it can correct itself. At least my brain is good to go! I maybe mad at mumma when I’m 16 years old though if they don’t fix me. Or if I ever want to shave my head. Or I go bald.

I learned to roll over today and wow was that fun. The minute I figured it out I wanted to do it again and again and again. Dada put me on the floor and mumma said “did you put him on his stomach?”. Nope, he sure didn’t. Look out! Crazing rolling fool at large. Woo-hoo!

{Twenty-one} 3 days, 3 doctors, 3 ailments

Life is crazy. That is what I’ve learned this last week. And it’s so fun! Everything is comical to me. From pulling mumma’s hair, to school, my brother, to projectile vomit-snot all over dada… I laugh. Mumma says I laugh like Santa, from the bottom of the belly. It’s a deep and silly laugh.

So after my skull xray a few weeks back, we discovered that I do not have craniosynostosis and do not need surgery on my skull. Sweet. However, my head is still oddly shaped and that can put pressure on my brain and cause major health problems. We call this plagiocephaly (aka flat head syndrome). Off to the specialist I went (Wednesday). He seems to think I’m borderline for needing a helmet to help with my development. Next week, skull scan! It will give us the answers we need. While at the specialist, he immediately pointed out my congenital torticollis.

Congenital torticollis is basically a shortened neck muscle on one side. There are a few different causes that either happen during birth, or immediately afterward. Usually a rip, tear, scar tissue or blood clot cause it. If not corrected, my face will continue to grow unevenly and can cause other developmental issues down the road. This is also the cause of my abnormal head shape because I lay and sit funny.

Thursday my dad took me in for my cold. You know, the one I’ve had for 7 wks. Mumma was worried that it could be turning into pneumonia or bronchitis. Good news is, my lungs are great. Bad news is, I tested positive for rhinovirus and/or enterovirus. At least we know now, and maybe there is an end in sight. Oh, and I weigh 18 lbs. Boo-yah!

And then, the nightmare happened... Muma broke my dukey. It ended up not being a big deal and just part of the healing process of my circumcision. Without giving you all the gory details, let’s just say that the doctor on Friday said “it happens” calmly, and sent me on my merry way. Phew.

We all hung out the rest of the weekend. It was great. I agree with my mother, we should do that EVERY weekend.

{Twenty} The bunny

Grandma Shirley seems to skip town a lot. I’ll be spending more time with Gma Judy in the next week.

So let’s see, what is new? I love sweet potatoes. And carrots. Not too keen on cereal though. I think mumma is trying to sneak that in the veggies. I also love foot rubs and I don’t like pacifiers. Well, maybe if I’m really, really tired.

Over the weekend I met Mr. E. Bunny. He was very cool. Tall and brown. He was a pretty funny dude. My bro didn’t seem to like him though. He kept his distance! Silly Brayden. And he calls me silly baby Christian!?

PS... I looooove bath time

{Nineteen} Four Month Check-up

Last week I went in for my 4 month check-up… and they love me. I’m a growing, happy, developing, bouncing, baby boy! I did not like the shots though. Why oh why do they keep doing that to me? One in each leg and the nurse forced me to drink some nasty stuff. Not cool.

I think I forgot to mention a few weeks ago that I slept through the night? But then since I’ve been sick I haven’t. I choke and cough a lot. My parents seem fine with our system though.

Not much to really report otherwise. Mumma took Brayden to the zoo and said I wasn’t allowed to go. Yet. I think she may take me there to see the bunny for Easter weekend. We have to see how the weather is going to be.

{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).