Almost A Year of Updates

Quin has never been sick a day in his life. Many people have said or thought it, both to myself and others. He started out healthy and strong, always breastfed moderately well, but my milk was not fatty enough for him. At ten months old, we switched him over to formula, then gradually over to cow's milk by eleven months. Since then, he's gained about a pound every two weeks, which is great.

 Quin a three days old, resting in my lap.

 A week and a day old! His grump face.
 Todd the cat loved to cuddle with Quin whenever Quin nursed.
 Brotherly pokes.
 More pokes! Quin at two months old, still looking healthy.
 At eight weeks old, Quin smiled for the first time. To  me, on my birthday (Halloween).
 For a very long time, this was considered one of his big smiles.
  Something like this was rare!
 He's always been a very mellow child. He doesn't cry or babble unless there's something worth making noise for.
 At four months old, he still looks healthy and happy.
 At five months, he narrows out, but it's subtle. He's less smiley and more content.
 He has a great brother that loves to play with his 'Coo Coo' [we started calling him that because Tuck couldn't say Quin].
 Quin at Bear world with mommy. Such a white kid!
 July he we finally switched him over to formula.
 Quin as we started to put him on bottles. It was a good change almost instantly. I wish I had put him on them sooner, but he did not cry. He was not acting like he was starving. He didn't smile. My milk supply was good, just not fatty.
 We began to go outside more. I'd take the stroller out (which my friend calls 'the bus') and get the kids more fresh air.
 I even took this little trooper hiking up Devil's Staircase. He was such a champ. Didn't nap during the several hours we were walking,but he did coo a lot and make random screeching noises whenever the mood struck him.
 He's a good kid. He's gained a lot of weight and a lot of happiness. Instead of being content with life, he's actually having fun.

Now a days, Quin will put himself into position and start to crawl...except he goes backwards. He's not pulling himself up on anything. He can eat all sorts of food, but doesn't feed himself quite yet.

20 Days and 18 Month Check Up

 Quin is twenty days old today! We celebrated by taking him outside and laying him on grass for the first time ever. He wasn't too thrilled to have prickly things poking on his bald head, so he quickly demanded that I pick him up again. As for how he's doing the rest of the day? He was sleeping well the first two weeks of life. Then, last week, we had anarchy. The first fifteen days he slept with us in our bed. The past five days have been a bit of trial and error to get him out. Now we seem to have a semi-established schedule where he goes in the bassinet. That way, David and myself can roll around without fear.

Speaking of rolling, turns out Quinton can already roll from his stomach to his back. He did it twice (to the left) within minutes. We found this out AS I was typing the post. 

 My three (potential) gingers. I love each of them and the different levels of insanity they each grant me.

  

 While Quinton was having some grass time, Tucker was playing with one of our playground's toys. 

 As for Tucker, he has two new addictions. He enjoys to play on my cell phone, which he does so with one finger, so it looks like he's poking it. Tuck attempts to play with his new baby brother by poking Quinton in the eye. At least there's no jealousy between them. Tucker is quite happy to share his mommy with crazy Quin.

At his eighteen month check up, we learned that Tucker is 85th percentile in weight and 92nd in height. The McKay genes keep shining through with this monster kid. Among his cousins, Tucker is actually somewhat small.

Tucker says assorted words like Mama, Dada, Grandpa, up, down, hi, bye and so forth. Since Quin, or Quinton, even, is a bit difficult to say, we call the baby 'Coo Coo' around the house. Tucker understands the English language pretty darn well. He's incredibly obedient and will walk outside with me and need almost no guidance to stay with me. His favorite activities involve splashing people during bath time and closing cabinet drawers/doors.

The Afterbirth

Yes, I gave this title a gross name. I'm tired and mildly morbid after changing upwards of sixteen poopy diapers in two days.

When Tuck was born, I called the hospital after seventy two hours of no poop and was incredibly worried about my guy. If he didn't drop some waste by the morning, we were going to have to take him to the doctor. With Quinton, I'm not worried about his bowels in the slightest. Quinn has given me no reason to worry about him. He sleeps almost all day every day, is feeding better by the day and seems entirely desensitized to noise. The only thing weird about Quinn are his teeth.

Yes. Teeth. Plural.

He has two confirmed teeth (under the gums, thankfully) at the top middle of his mouth. I was feeling around some more today and think I found one more tooth - a lower left canine. Any of these teeth could break through at anytime or stick around for months before trying to make their debut.

The brothers haven't had too much interaction. Tucker isn't jealous and Quinton is too self absorbed to care anyway. I don't mean that in a bad way. Newborns have to be selfish to survive. Compassion comes later.

As of this Friday, I'll be severely limiting visitors that see Quinton. While it's great that people want to see him, it's about to be flu season. I'm not willing to sacrifice hours or days of sanity so that one sniffly person can get their germy hands on my kid. We'll lift the ban sometime in March, April, or whenever people stop getting sick all the time.

Quinn kept trying to chew on his fist, which makes me think we may have a newborn teether. 

I was giving Quinn attention, so Tuck put himself in a clothes basket for an hour and casually asked to be let out once Quinn had settled down. Tuck is the ideal older brother. 

This was David in the hospital after Quinn was born. It's been pretty much how he's been since we've been home. My big guy likes his sleep. I won't complain, though, because his sleeping genetics have passed on to Tucker and made Tuck sleep twelve to sixteen hour nights at a time. Silly sleepy gingers. 

Bombs Away

Many women I call or contact now-a-days start the conversation not with a casual hello, but with the serious inquiry, "are you in labor?" These words contain all the excitement of a child at Christmas. Don't worry, ladies, I'll be sure to announce my incredible labor pains to those that need to hear it. I'm glad you're all so ready for me to get hurt. ;)

On a more serious note, my brother in law (Mike) made me think of a question I hadn't yet pondered. How will Tucker be as a brother?

Currently, Tucker is a dream yearling. His tantrums are laughable at the best of times and he's only mildly frustrating once a week. All in all, he's just too darn happy for me to take him seriously. As I write this post, he's happily sitting in the kitchen, playing with one of his few toys. There have been days where I've taken a nap and been awakened to a hearty tackle from my ginger (or strawberry blonde, as many are now insisting) boy.

I imagine he'll be pretty confused and frustrated with our new baby boy to start. There will be many tears as I teach him to not touch the baby swing, gouge out his little brother's eyes, or just get snappy at him because I'm tired and can't help it. My guess is, after Tucker learns the baby's limitations, that he'll want to play with him and be helpful. I just don't see jealousy being a trait in his siblinghood. Then again, I could be terribly wrong. That's the fun of making a guess now.

As for the fetus's name... I have no idea. Russell is a name that David and I have both agreed on, but neither of us love. David says he doesn't want to have a drawn out discussion about names, so we're both compiling lists and will compare them the day of the baby's birth. It's lame and frustrating, but I suppose I should let David have his way some of the time. 

Post of Updates

My house has finally settled into a routine of lovely anarchy. We recently acquired a kitten to add to our family's ranks. You know...because a newborn this September just won't be enough.

Meet Todd. He loves Zeeke and Zeeke loves him. These two will play together all day every day. Tucker loves Todd and Zeeke and Todd tolerates Tucker snuggling him, but Zeeke will still move away every time the poor kid is in the vicinity. The one and only reason Zeeke has to get close to Tucker is to steal food.

As for everything else, I've decided to answer a few common questions and make an announcement or two.

"How are you feeling?" 

I feel smaller with this kid than with Tucker. I'll post some maternity pictures in a few weeks for comparison. I can't do any dishes over my sink or else my back will go out and I'm unable to walk (since my belly makes me hunker over like Quasimodo). 

"Are you excited?"

This accident baby is still as unexpected to me as he was on day one of me discovering I'm pregnant. I don't think it'll really hit me until he's here. My mind hasn't grasped that it's real, so I'm not quite excited yet, but I'm starting to get a bit anxious. 

"Do you want anything?"

A bigger stroller. Otherwise, I'm set.

"Are you worried about Tucker with another baby?"

Nope! He's a mellow kid and may act up to get attention, but we'll just have to see how it goes. 

"Are you worried about Tucker and the baby sharing a room?"

Not one bit. Which brings me to my next announcement. 

Currently, David, Zeeke, Tuck, Todd and I are all squished together in a two bedroom apartment. Just a few days ago our apartment manager told me there's an opening in the three bedroom apartments just a hundred feet away from me and asked me if I'd like to fill the vacancy. The family that has been living there has been there for five years straight, so maintenance is going to have to get into the dwelling first and potentially fix a few things up, but we're looking at a rough move in date between late August to early September. During my summer seven week break (that's what we call the break between Spring and Fall semesters at BYU-Idaho) I get to go to Priest Lake, move and have a baby. So far I'm not stressed about anything but the baby. 

Catching Up

Right now I've got the dream. I'm in an apartment I can afford, a dog that's not too shabby, a mellow yearling, loving husband....and a crazy fetus.

RJ isn't even born yet and he's driving me nuts. During the ultrasound he kept moving around so frequently and rapidly that technician was surprised...after years and years on the job. This is the complete opposite of how Tuck's 20 week examination went - he just laid still for most of the day, then kicked around at night. But RJ....this fetus has no time where he's stationary, and I'm only 22 weeks along.

Tucker is in a strange new phase where he dislikes being at home. He feels the constant urge to be out for a drive, on a walk, or just receiving new sorts of stimulation at all times. I blame RJ's influence. This fetus is transforming my little boy! But not really. Tuck's walking, more mobile, and just in that phase where he wants to explore the world. To give him a bit more to do in the house, I moved the nursery chair out of his room and bought him a camo bean-bag chair that's just a bit too big for him. He loves to jump and play on it as often as possible. Tuck hasn't begun to do anything truly bad. He doesn't climb on the sofa, play with remotes or even try to pull the DVDs off our open bookshelf anymore. Now he plays around with everything he can - including my tablet, so I've downloaded a few applications for him.

Oh, wondering why I'm calling the fetus RJ? I like those initials. RJ McKay has a nice ring to it. We're fairly certain on the name Russell Joel McKay...but we all know how that will turn out. Remember when Tucker was going to be Nickolas?

Just Around the Corner

In less than three weeks, Tuck will be a year old. In seven weeks, we'll know the gender of Baby 2. Thus far, we have names that I like and names that David likes for Baby 2. If we're having a girl, he wants to name her Teresa. Should I catch him in a moment of weakness, I want Diana. We'll see how that goes. If it's a boy - the name will be decided on hair color. If I get my wish and have a brown haired boy, it will be Bruce Alan McKay (so he has the initials BAM). If it's a redhead, then it'll be Russel Joel McKay.

As for the boy that's out and functional, he's crawling and has been since just before he turned eleven months old. The picture below perfectly depicts just how mobile and eager to get into EVERYTHING he is.

Since Tucker insists on exploration, I've decided to train him. He now no longer tries to touch the TV or the game stations. Instead, he will leave them alone and not touch them, whether they're covered or uncovered. Our biggest problem is his love of my keyboard, so we may get him an old keyboard of his own to practice his typing with. By two or three, I'll probably cave and get him a tablet.

Tucker now sleeps from 9 pm until 8:30-10 am. He still takes three naps a day and loves to be played with. The wilder the game, the better. When he gets excited, he'll stand, hold something, and bounce up and down. Some people tell me he's dancing, but that's silly. If he is dancing, then he's definitely my son, because he does it with no music on and completely out of rhythm.