Not the Mama

Eli isn't much into talking. He still prefers to whine and scream and growl over more conventional forms of communication. He has, however, mastered "Dada". He says it with confidence and knows exactly what it means. He knows who Dada is and the right times to say it. Feeling a mite jealous, I have been coaxing him to say Mama for weeks now. Still everytime Eli responds with the same ol' "Dada!" I was starting to think maybe he was just a bit slow, conversationally speaking, but yesterday, I caught on to his little game.

Me: Lying on the couch.
Eli: Standing, holding onto the other end of the couch. Doesn't know I am paying attention.
Me: Paying Attention
Eli: "Mama, Mama, Mama"
Me: Perks up. Listens.
Eli: Cruises toward me. "Mama, Mama, Mama"
Me: Picks him up, smiles big. "Did you say Mama?? I heard it! You said Mama! Yea! You said Mama!"
Eli: Grins. "Dada!"

Sigh.

First Christmas

Eli's first Christmas has come and gone. I can't believe how fast it flew by! It was good fun, full of memories. There were many special moments that we will never forget. Like his time sitting on the lap of his Daddypa. And his sweet kisses he gave Grandpa. Or his sitting at the Christmas Eve table, where he reached for and grabbed the entire bowl of mashed potatoes and catapaulted a handful. And the deviled eggs he flung across the room. And the napkins he ate. And the cats he chased and the dog that chased him. And his conquering of Mimi's house. The eating of her plants. The pulling down of her lamps. The ripping of books and newspapers. The Christmas train we spent hours putting together, making perfect. The same train he demolished in five seconds flat. Oh, and the outlets he licked. The many times his head hit the floor or the table or the counter or the wall thanks to his incessant flailing. The small toys he tried mightily to consume. The countless times we practiced the CPR-course-taught-mouthsweep. The squeals. The screams. The whines.

Ah, the memories. I think it's safe to say Mimi's glad we left. Her poor teeth-mark-laden trees are, too.

'Twas A Saturday Before Christmas

As usual Eli was the only source of testosterone during our playdate today. It doesn't seem to bother him so far, and I'm sure one day he will realize what an advantage he has at our estrogen-rich church. He had much fun chowing down on chicken nuggets and marshmallows, playing with different toys, toying with climbing the stairs, and being outside. He LOVES being outside. Sarah has a superduper cool swing in her backyard, the top of which is mounted nearly twenty feet up in a pine tree. This makes for the biggest, smoothest, longest arc- he looked like he was flying on a trapeze- squealing his heart out the whole time. After he was "done" there (Chloe needed a turn causing Eli to be greatly upset), Cindy suggested I put him on the trampoline. I have never seen him have so much fun! It is completely encircled with netting and the springs are entirely covered, making it very safe. We threw in a dozen or so ballpit type balls, and let him loose. He rolled around and chased the balls around for another half hour before it was finally time to go inside and decorate our cookie creations. I have to admit I was feeling a little covetous of such a cool backyard by the time the day was through.

He Does It Well

It's been a while since I posted, and I know you are all wondering what new and exciting things Eli is up to. So, I wanted to take a moment to give you the official update: He is sleeping through the night (yay!) And getting up for good at 5am (boo!) He's eating (yay!) And not napping (boo!) At all (boo, boo!) And he's screaming. A lot. Like all the time. Including as I type this. And probably as you read this. And even after I type this and after you read this. And after you reread this. And after everyone who ever reads this comes and reads this and then rereads this. He'll still be screaming. (boo!)

10 Months

Today Eli turns ten months old. In two short months we will be making the trek to Shallotte for his first birthday. I just can't believe it. Time flies whether you're having fun or not.

At ten months, Eli is getting around and he is fast! Perhaps a good title for this post would have been "how quickly we forget". It has been little more than a year since Chloe was just starting to tangibly discover the world, but for some reason, Eli is still taking me by surprise. He is into EVERYTHING. He has discovered the joy of playing in the toilets, flushing the toilets, slamming the lid to the toilet onto his hand, emptying the bookshelves, opening drawers and cabinets and banging them shut, pulling up on everything (whether it is stable or not), eating all things that find their way onto the floor (but nothing that finds its way onto his plate), going outside where he loves to eat grass and leaves, and so on. He is all boy. Comparatively, it is amazing how innately good Chloe was. We didn't even really need child safety devices with her. A simple "no" was discouragement enough. Not Eli. What we really need is to bubble wrap the house in it's entirety. Of course, then he would eat the plastic bubbles and choke and die. Scratch that idea. What I need is a few more of me to keep up with him! Just one clone would be nice. She could hold him all day while I did whatever else it is I do. Then my back wouldn't hurt all the time. I don't know how that boy weighs as much as he does while eating so little. (It must be genetic :oP )

Eli still doesn't have any words. He prefers screeching, screaming, yelling, and making the little-Indian-boy-running-around-the-fire sound with his mouth and hand (anyone have the PC name for that?) He has just started cruising the furniture and can stand up for short periods on his own. He could probably go longer if not for a lack of confidence. He will stand for several seconds, but as soon as he realizes I don't have ahold of him, he turns toward me in a panic and collapses. Also unlike Chloe, he still doesn't really have a favorite book or toy. Just mommy. His smile is still contagious, and he is still my joy. Soon my little baby will be a little toddler, and I can't wait!

Eight is Not Enough

Eli's food repertoire of good eats has absolutely exploded over the last three days. It seems like I finally get around to blogging about a particular problem and within a couple of days, it's no longer a burden. No coincidence I'm sure! Thank you all for praying for us when we have difficulties with our lovely little ones.

The new, improved menu includes:
Corn
Oranges
Organic cereal bars in apple and strawberry
Noodles
Sliced Turkey
Mozzarella
American Cheese
Kidney beans
the inevitable french fry
the inedible Nuggets
and.....
Kashi Cookies!

We love Kashi. We've been fans of the cereals, granola bars, and frozen entrees for a while now, but the cookies are a new discovery in the Covil household. Unlike the other products, there are real drawbacks to Kashi delving into the realm of soft, sweet baked goods. The problem with Kashi cookies is they are, just like the box says, tasty little cookies. Furthermore, there are only eight in a box. Eight!! And even on sale, it's no sale. Plus, there are four people in this house that all really like those eight tasty little cookies. Eight cookies and four people can only mean one thing. A bigger cookie budget. Yum.

5 A Day the Color Way

Today was the first time in four days that Eli ate. It has been such a stressful week trying with all that I have to get the boy to eat something. Anything! No food means no sleeping through the night. So besides having a stressful daytime, we have had less than happy nights filled with howls from across the hall every hour or so. Nerveracking to say the least. However, this morning, Eli woke up a new man. He ate half of a chick-fil-a biscuit at breakfast. Cheese pizza and banana for lunch. Half of a peanut butter and apple butter sandwich for snack. An apple cereal bar for supper. Lots of milk in between. I know this list is far from the FDA's standards of nutrition, and lots of you are probably appalled by the amount of sugar and the invisibility of the vegetables, but I personally have never been happier. Well, at least not this week...

Mama's Boy

What a sweet, sweet boy.

First Thanksgiving

Eli proved to be quite the ham on Thanksgiving. It was so fun to get to share his sweetness and energy with all of the people that get to read about him, but rarely get to see him. He had lots and lots of fun at Aunt Dottie's house, especially enjoying the hot rolls, the fresh corn, the ceramic cats, the "bear", the beagles, and as always, the attention! Patrick and I were suited up and prepared for a dinner no different than the ones we enjoy Monday thru Sunday at our own home- laps laden with kids, quick bites, quicker chewing, little tasting, and no conversation. That being said, we were more than pleasantly surprised by the way our kids, especially Eli, entertained themselves long enough for us to not only savor our first plates, but also our second plates, and our desserts. Everyone had a wonderful, relaxing time. Eli got the chance to bond with family and four-footed friends, Chloe overcame her darkest fears, and Patrick and I moved back up a notch in our belts. The day couldn't have been any better.

Come On, Everybody's Doing It

As a card-carrying, dues-paying member of Weight Watchers, I can't help but hate skinny people. Nothing against them personally, of course, but they just annoy me (all of my skinny friends reading this, sorry, I do love you, but its true). I know some of them can't help it, I mean, I've seen them eat, but, well, it's just not fair. Then, on the other hand there are those skinnys, those weirdo freakish people, who just don't like to eat. You know the ones who say such insane things as "I was so busy, I just totally forgot to eat lunch" or "Yeah, chocolate doesn't do a lot for me." Those people. The people who don't love food. I don't get it.
Have you ever noticed how when there is something in life that you really don't like or think you can't love, God plops it right in the middle of your life and says "Learn this. Love this." That's my Eli. He is a weirdish freakish non-eater. As a mommy who wants to do the very best by my kids, this trait is by far the most frustrating and the most stressful of any others my children possess. You can actually hear his tummy growling as you try to get a spoon in, yet his lips remain locked. For nine solid months Patrick and I have been worried sick day in and day out because our child won't eat. He must be sick, he must have a sore throat, he's teething, he doesn't like this food or that food or any food. The list goes on and on. We've tried entertaining him, forcefeeding him, tricking him, everything we can think of. And while we have managed to keep him alive this far, it's absolutely exhausting. The newest modus operandi is the hip feed, wherein I stand and hold all 25 lbs. of him on my hip and slowly, ever so slowly, feed him his entire meal. Slow meaning roughly 20 minutes; whole meal referring to half of a banana. Apparently being attached to mommy is happiness enough to endure the agony that is eating.

I'm trying to just let go and calmly tell myself, he won't starve, he'll eat if he's that hungry. But then I remember how when he was a little baby he did almost starve because he wouldn't eat even though he was that hungry. So that's no help. It's better just to keep on and tell myself maybe he might just possibly be starting to come around. His tastebuds have, afterall, discovered the bliss that is the cheese pizza.

New Profile Pic

..is Eli's nine month portrait... his eyes don't really look like that.

9 months

Eli is officially nine months old, 3/4 the way through his first year of life. It is truly amazing how quickly the first year goes.
His doctor visit proved that he is still a big and tall boy. He weighed in at 22lbs. and is 30in. tall. Dr. Lopez gave us the go-ahead to switch him over to whole milk if Eli cooperates. That is a big blessing considering a can of generic formula costs $15. We use close to 2 cans a week for a total of $100 a month in formula. That quickly adds up! He also gave us the go on switching Eli to 100% self-feeding and giving up on the jars of baby food, as long as he still gets his fruits and veggies every day.
Last week, Eli really started crawling and getting into everything. He pulls up at every opportunity, and is just staring to cruise. He can get from room to room on his hands and knees, and has already pulled a number of objects onto his little head. (Including the giant snowman at Picture People. Ouch.) He can pull books off the shelf and open and close cabinet doors. His disposition has become bearable as he has become more mobile. He is starting to like books (kinda) and he still enjoys cuddles, kisses, jumping, flying, and being with mommy. He loves his mommy and daddy, and cries everytime daddy leaves for work in the morning. The tears are every bit worth it when I see the daily reaction to daddy's homecoming. His excitement can't be contained as he squeals, smiles, giggles, bounces, and tries with all of his might to fly himself from the front porch into his daddy's arms. I can't believe in 3 short, fast, furious months, our last little baby will be a year old! We will be cherishing his First Thanksgiving and First Christmas and looking forward to his First Birthday as his "firsts" are quickly drawing to an end.

His Own Two Feet

For the twelfth time in just under an hour, I have just returned from my journey down the hall to rescue Eli. Eli has a problem. You see, like many babies his age, he is becoming quite good at pulling up and standing tall in his crib. He grabs onto the bars and pulls and tugs and works his way up, hand-over-hand, till he is standing erect, peeking over the side Kilroy-style. This is all very cute and dandy, but the poor boy is completely inept when it comes to getting down. It's the same every time. When Eli is put down for a nap, he lays quietly until I leave the room. Soon thereafter the silence turns to little grunts as he works hard to reach the top. The grunts then become happy giggles of accomplishment. Soon its the sounds of nervous laughter which quickly evolve into panicked squeals that in no time whatsoever morph into full-force wailing. Every time, the same. The only real difference is the ending pose. Once I found him standing with his legs spread as far apart as his footed pajamas would allow, his feet still begging to slide. Another time, his attempt to land himself resulted in his arm sliding out the rail and turning akwardly away from his body. Yesterday, he had slid down until his legs popped out, one on either side of a side bar, leaving him in a sort of suspended stand, half in and half out, his feet hovering above the floor. Most of the time, however, its the same. Eli is standing there, wailing, coughing, crying, shaking, but still standing. I bend him at the knees, push his bottom down to the mattress, lay him back, and gently calm him before leaving the room. Then its time to catch a breather, take a restroom break, grab a sip of Diet Dew, kiss Chloe on the head, and get ready for Round 13. Eventually exhaustion has to win.

A Look at Eli

Count It All Joy

As I went down to pick up the kids from their respective classrooms after Bible Study this morning, the wails bellowing out of the nursery could be heard clear down the hall. They were much, much louder than usual. I got Chloe and hurried down to Eli's room wanting desperately to relieve the poor ladies that had been stuck in their for 2.5 hours. As I got closer I peeked in and saw babies EVERYWHERE and all of them were screaming at the top of their lungs. Frazzled moms were holding crying babies, patient workers were holding crying babies, swings were holding unhappy babies... it was unreal. Then, like a bright spot in the middle of the floor lay Eli looking around contentedly. The only baby in the room not wigging out. As I went in and scooped him up an older lady ran over to me and said "What number baby is he?" I searched around for my numbered sticker to show her that he was, in fact, my baby, when she continued, "surely he's your third or fourth baby. I've never seen such a happy baby.. he's the only one that didn't cry.. and that smile.. so sweet.. such a beautiful disposition...I just loved having him.." As I always do when I hear these things, I looked at the lady like she was a nutcase and explained why and how she was completely wrong. Didn't she see how he started wailing the second I walked in? He is not this happy at home! He's a pain, yadayada.... She looked hurt, and I felt awful. I ended by sheepishly telling her thank you, that he is indeed a sweet baby, and making a beeline toward the door with my bags and babies in tow. Before I could get out, the full-time nursery worker stopped me and said "I told everyone not to worry about Eli, all you'll hear from him are happy squeals. He didn't dissapoint, no sir. Such a sweet baby."

I've been thinking a lot since then. What a blessing it should be for me to see my child bless other people. He is such a joy to others, and he loves me so much! I should feel so good that he reacts to seeing me. I should love the fact that when I walk in he wants nothing more than to be in my arms. What a blessing from God. I'm reminded of the old hymn.. "count your many blessings name them one by one and it will surprise you what the Lord has done.." God is full of surprises, they're there all along. Sometimes we just need a little perspective.

Cleanliness is Next to Chloe-ness

Chloe is becoming such a good big sister. She is so very sweet about sharing toys and taking care of Eli. When he is sitting in the living room floor, she immediately surrounds him with every toy in the house. She lays them in neat circles all the way around him, making a target of sorts, with Eli as the bullseye. Eli sits and plays happily, moving from one toy to the next. Then, inevitably it happens. Chloe can't take it anymore. Too .. much.. clutter... must.. pick... up.. toys.. "Keen Up EI!" Chloe proclaims. She frantically scurries about the room picking up all of the toys and putting them back in their various toy boxes, Eli staring on in utter confusion. Within seconds he is left all alone in the middle of the floor. Dazed, confused, and toyless.

Love On Demand

It's so fun to see brother and sister showing affection toward each other. It's a nice relief from the everpresent squawking, whining, and hitting that have become staples in our house over the past few weeks. After Eli woke up from his nap this afternoon, Chloe walked into his room, demanded that she be put into his crib with him, sat down, turned to Eli and authoratatively said, "EI, Kiss!" Immediately, he opened his mouth hippo-wide, leaned over and laid a big, fat, wet kiss on her face. Chloe giggled and squirmed around and announced, "Good boy EI!"

On the Move

It's official! Eli can move! Yesterday he scooted halfway across the living room, and upon meeting the desk chair, slowly (we're talking six minutes) figured out how to pull himself up to stand. Once he got up, he had no idea what to do and was proudly stuck with his face plastered against the back of the chair, his little arms shaking and voice whimpering. I finally helped him down and gave him much praise.

Today Eli scooted all around playing with different toys. At one point, he made it into the dining room, then turned around, came back into the living room, then pulled the bottom drawer of the entertainment center open. He played alone for a solid five minutes.

His crowning moment came tonight. He saved it for daddy who had never evesomuchas seen him scoot... ELI CRAWLED! He crawled with his belly off the floor for five big crawl-steps before he collapsed in a little proud heap. Time to secure the quarters!

Sunday Best

The boy is rotten, no doubt about it. When I picked him up from the nursery tonight Kimberly chattered on and on about what a sweet boy Eli is. How cute. How wonderful. How great it is that he can play on his own for so long. How nice it must be to have such a happy baby. How she felt bad that she wasn't paying him any attention, yet he just happily scooted around the room playing with toys and keeping himself busy.

Seriously?!?!? I think I've got a Sunday morning Christian in the making...

Mercy

God's mercy is an amazing thing. Perhaps one of the most amazing aspects of His mercy is that He puts up with stuff for a long time. I mean, a really long time. An exorbitant amount of time. To the point that when you finally get it, it's embarrassing that God let you go for so long. I mean, really, sometimes He should give me what I deserve. Here's what I mean. Eli hasn't done a whole lot of moving, and I always quickly attribute it to his laziness. The fact is, he is a very active baby, nearly impossible to hold. He loves to flip out of your arms without any warning whatsoever. He is never still. The lazy ones are his parents. For months now, at least 4, Eli has been able to sit up. When Eli sits up, his head has been higher than the railing on his crib. A big, big no-no. For months now, his daddy and I have said "We really need to lower that rail. He is going to flip right out of there." And for months now, the mattress has stayed at its highest setting. See? Lazy.

Yesterday, after a couple of months of my complaining that Eli hasn't yet pulled up in his crib, it hit me. God has protected Eli from my negligence for a loooong time. God has given grace to Eli, but to me He has given great measures of mercy. I deserved to have my baby flipped out of the crib onto the floor. I really did, yet God protected Him. Still even after this realization, I didn't truly get the magnitude of the situation. I knew what I needed to do, but I still decided to put it off until the weekend. Well, God decided no more... well, maybe a little more.. but it became very clear that is was time for me to stop being lazy and get to work. During his "nap" today Eli pulled up in his crib and was hanging his top half over the side, yelling and grinning his big hippo grin. The time had come. I had to pull out the toolbox.

Eli is asleep right now as low as the mattress will go. Praise God that He doesn't give up on His children easily. Praise God that He protects my children from my many parenting gaffes. Praise God I'm not Britney Spears. Its times like these I actually feel sorry for the girl.

All Boy

Eli has finally found an activity that makes him happy for at least small amounts of time.
The JohnnyJumpUp.


(With my Carolina degree in mind) I truly didn't think there would be any"boy/girl" differences between Chloe and Eli at such an early age. I actually took exception to the phrase "all boy" and to moms that would say "just wait until you have a boy..." In my mind, everything was linked to personality, not gender. Needless to say, I have been more than a little surprised.

Chloe: hated jumping, hated flying, hated movement in general
Eli: wants nothing more than to be thrown into the ceiling at blazing speeds
Chloe: made consonant sounds early, had to be taught animal noises
Eli: has consonant sounds but uses them sparingly. prefers to growl and grunt
Chloe: sat quietly with ankles crossed looking at books by six months
Eli: sits loudly thrashing legs and throwing books by six months
Chloe: quiet
Eli: LOUD
Chloe: listened to the word "No"
Eli: grabs everything before you even know it's there for the grabbing
Chloe: never pulled hair
Eli: pulls hair. a lot. it hurts.

It's become clearer and clearer.. I've got a boy on my hands.

Dinner Theater

Supper began as usual. Eli in his high chair, bib on. Mommy at
her post, jar and spoon in hand. Spoon of sweet potatoes moves toward mouth.
Jaws lock tight. Head jerks left-right-left-up-down moving this-way-and-that avoiding any contact with spoon.

Enters Chloe wielding a construction-cone-orange flyswatter, yelling.
"Flyyyyyy, Flyyyyyyyy"
Eli stares in amazement.
"Flyyyyyyyyy, wheredyago fly?"
Swats table. Then Chair. Window.
"Flyyy. Hi, Fly!"
Eli locks eyes on Chloe, forgets he hates eating. Opens mouth. Eats. Enjoys?

Chloe begins to exit
"Flyyyyy, Flyyyyy"
Eyes return to mommy. Lips lock shut. Head jerks around.

Dinner over.

Two New Teeth

..came through on the top middle last night. Must be why he was so eager to move on to tablefoods :)

Puree Pique

Eli woke up this morning and decided that he is tired of being a baby. He's had it with the way his life has been going this far, and he wants to be grown-up now. So, his first course of action was to put a stop to the consumption of jarred baby foods or anything else that requires a spoon for consumption. And as if that isn't enough maturity for one day, bottles are completely out of the question now as well. That's right, Eli is a big boy now. Or so he thinks.

This morning "the boy" as we affectionately call him got up and refused his morning bottle. Annoyed but not dissuaded, I tried to feed him his morning yogurt. He would have no part in it. He squirmed, he kicked, he screamed, he threw the spoon, he spit on my face. He went into hysterics. At this point, it had been almost 15 hours since he last ate or drank, and I was desperate for him to at least drink a little. I forced down 4 oz. from a bottle, let him play awhile, tried again without any progress, and put him down for a nap. Again I understand why we need commercials to remind us shaking babies is bad. When he woke up, I tried again. Bottle. No. Turkey and vegetables from a jar. No. Forget it. Not happening. I am at the end of my rope. In one last desperate push, I gave him a little bit of his sister's banana. He gobbled it right up and wanted more. Score one for mommy! In the end he ate 5 Ritz crackers, 1/3 banana, dry cereal, and drank almost an entire sippy cup of water. Anyone need some pureed peas??

Covert Fun

I love the sounds of my kids laughing together in the living room while I am working in the bedrooms or kitchen. It is truly one of the greatest joys of being a mommy. I just wish I knew what was so dang funny. I learned long ago that they have no desire for me to join in their fun. An appearance from Mommy leads to instantaneous wailing on the part of Eli which results in Chloe taking her toys and going elsewhere. Apparently seeing me reminds Eli of how much pain and agony he is in when he is not attached to my hip. Today while I was making Chloe's lunch, I could hear the kids having the best time. They were squealing and giggling and shrieking.. it was a riot. I waited as long as I possibly could, but I just had to know what could possibly be so funny. I decided to go the long way around and just peek my head around the bar to try and get just a glimpse. Chloe was singing Wheels on the Bus and doing the motions with Eli's hands! It was so precious. And as always, so short lived. I was caught. The screaming must begin. Eli rared back and let it loose. Chloe instantly collapsed in a heap on the floor and started crying. Oh well. At least I got to know what all the commotion was about.

8 Months

Today is Eli's 8 month birthday. Poor guy has a little cold, so he just hasn't been himself the last few days. He has been such a hard baby, but such a joy at the same time. I don't think there is a happier baby on earth. His smile is like a hippotamous, mouth wiiiide open and the rest of the face disappears. He is so happy to see everyone. The best thing is his laugh. Huge and guttural, it always makes me laugh right along with him. No matter how frustrating he can be, I love him deeply, and always will. He is truly such a joy. He just makes people feel good. I love to see how much he loves his big sister and how much she loves him. Precious.

His fine motor skills are right on schedule. He enjoys feeding himself cereal, green beans, and fruit dices. He can get a spoon of food in his mouth and drink from a sippy cup with a little help. He leans in and gives me big, wet kisses. He waves and claps his hands, and can reach out and grab anything before you realize it... his favorite thing being his sister's hair.

His gross motor skills leave a little to be desired. He has been able to get on his hands and knees and rock for long periods of time for over a month now, with little to no forward motion. He just doesn't seem interested in trying. He loathes tummy time; always has. He spends most of the day on my hip or sitting up straight surrounded by toys. As soon as the toy he is interested in moves out of immediate reach, it's all over. The alarms sound. Deafening screams ensue until he is picked up and rescued from his misery. Trying to reach for the toy is completely out of the question. I can't wait until he takes off. I don't think there will be any stopping him once he finally decides he is ready to go.

He has two teeth. Bottom front and center. A third (also on the bottom) has been playing peek-a-boo for the last few days. The most exciting thing that has happened lately is that within the last couple of weeks he has begun to fall into a semblance of a schedule, including sleeping all night long. Meaning a full night of sleep for mommy and daddy, making for a much happier home :)

Intro

I thought it only fair Eli got his own space, free from his big sister's reach. This page will be true to it's name- Everything Eli.