Water Bottles and Growing Up

Summer 2009

Ainsley has had an insane obsession with water bottles since she could crawl.  Alysse documented this in Destin last year.

Nom nom nom

She would crawl after water bottles.  She would chew on water bottles.  She would cry if you took a water bottle away from her.  Water bottles made awesome swishy noises.  They felt good on her gums.  And, most importantly, they were nommable.






Well, now she's graduated to drinking from the water bottles.  She won't drink water in a sippy cup.  If we offer it to her in her cup--or even if her juice-to-water ratio isn't to Her Highness's liking, she'll defiantly dribble it out of her mouth.  As a matter of fact, one trip A and I took involved my not getting the ratio right as I gave her her cup in the back of the van.  Upon our arrival home (thankfully home), I discovered her cup empty and her outfit completely soaked.  She'd dribbled the whole damn cup all over herself.  Thanks, kid.

However, if the water is in a water bottle (like Daddy drinks), well, then all bets are off.  She'll drink tons and tons of water.  And after each drink, she'll narrate her action; this pleases her ENDLESSLY.  Please to enjoy:

In Xander news, Mr. X has become quite ambulatory.  He's been skooching and creeping all over the place.  His aim?  Things For the Nomming.  This is the face he makes when he goes in for a nom:

He's also becoming quite the big boy.  Want some perspective?  The picture on the left: Xander, 10 days old.  On the right: Xander, 5 months, 6 days old.  Really, he's too big for that bouncy seat, but he still loves it. For now...he gets to stay in it.  Until he realizes he's not going anywhere in it and declares it Dead. To. Him.

On the topic of his getting bigger, I have to say that I'm typing this blog as he sleeps in my lap at 11pm.  It's awesome because everybody knows a baby doesn't sleep any better than it does in its momma's lap.

It's also kinda bittersweet.  I'm really torn.  A part of me knows that he should be sleeping in his bed--and he would if I put him there.  But he's so warm (I get cold in the basement) and, more importantly, I'm cognizant that, barring unforeseen events, he is my last baby--and I want to cuddle with him as much as possible.  Too soon he'll turn into the snotty toddler telling me, "NOOO!"

Another part of me misses the independence of putting the kiddo to bed and chilling with Sean.  So, there are pros and cons for Xander and there are pros and cons for me.  Ugh.  I've been mulling this around in my head for the last couple of weeks...I've been erring on the side of cuddling.  I figure that's the best way to go.