Note to self...

...put the gate up at the bottom of the stairs when James is alone in the living room.

This morning, as we got ready to go to work and daycare, I left James to play in the living room while I went to the kitchen to get our lunches together.  Usually, James follows me into the kitchen (if that gate is open) and pulls all the magnets off the fridge.  He really loves those magnets, mostly because he's not allowed in the kitchen that often.  If the kitchen gate is closed, then he holds onto it and "talks" to me or he finds as many toys as possible to throw into the kitchen.  I should have known that something was up when neither of those things happen.  I started to hear James make some weird noises, so I went back into the living room.  And he wasn't there.  I called his name and heard him respond "DA!" which I think is his way of saying "Yeah".  Only I'd heard him responding from upstairs.  I walked halfway up the stairs to find James peering at me from the other side of the stair railing in the upstairs hallway.  Apparently, James really wanted his upstairs toys and not his downstairs toys.  He looked amazingly proud of himself and a bit like he knew that he wasn't supposed to be up there without a parent.  Luckily, he didn't try to make his way down the stairs, as he has rolled down them on one previous occasion.  I am definitely going to have to start remembering to put the gate up when I leave the room. 

My cuddly boy

James has always been a very snugly baby.  He loved to be held as soon as he came out and I loved taking naps with him on my chest.  Even when we only had a few minutes to nap, you would find James and I on the couch, snoozing away.  What is really fun now is that he will let you know that he wants a hug.  He'll raise his arms up and if you ask "Do you want a hug?", he bounces up and down and lets you know that he definitely does want a hug.  If you ask "James can I have a kiss?", he'll lean his forehead towards you and collect his kiss.  Its so sweet to see the way he loves us and knows how much we love him.

James' 15 month stats

Adam took James for his check up yesterday, hard to believe he is actually 15 months old!  I was able to sneak out of work for a few minutes and meet them for the appointment.  Dr. Chander isn't concerned about James not walking yet, he thinks its mainly psychological, based on James' leg strength and ability to stand up while barely holding on.  If he's not walking by 18 months, we may have to get him evaluated for the delay, but we will cross that bridge when we come to it.  Other than that, James is meeting and exceeding all of his milestones.  He was very happy to show Dr. Chander where "James' tummy is" and was excited when Dr. Chander let him look at his cell phone.  I really love our pediatrician and he never fails to make me feel completely at ease.  James received his diphtheria, tetanus, and pertussis (DTAP), haemophilus influenzae type b, and pneumococcal vaccinations, so he is right on track.  At 18 months, he'll get a hepatitis b vaccination and then we should be done with shots until he is 4 or so. 
James was 24.5 pounds and 31.5 inches tall.  That puts him in about the 75th percentile, for his adjusted age, so he has definitely leveled off since the days of being in the 95th percentile.  But that is just fine with us, he's gaining weight appropriately and very healthy!

What's in a name...

Adam and I were engaged for over 2 years before we got married.  We knew we wanted a long engagement, if for nothing else other than to convince my mother that it was ok for us get married (Hi, mom!  Love you!)  During that time, a lot of people asked me what I was going to do about my name.  Me, being a rather independent woman, always thought that I'd keep my maiden name.  I never really thought it was a big thing, but then Adam spoke up.  He really firmly wanted me to take his name.  After a few days of thinking my soon to be husband was really a caveman, I asked him what his deal was.  He explained that he wanted his whole family, myself and our future children, to have the same last name.  Growing up, his half sisters, mom, and eventually step sister all had different last names.  So for him, it was important.  Eventually it ended up being more important to him for me to change my name than it was for me to keep my name.  So I became Chelsea Bednarczyk.  Now, I will still contend that if my maiden name wasn't just as long as Bednarczyk, that I would have hyphenated it.  Really though, no one hyphenates Winningham-Bednarczyk.  So after the wedding, we got the copy of our marriage certificate, and I went to Social Security and the MVA to change my name legally.  Then I wrote a list of every bank account, credit card, and student loan I had and started to contact them.  Most of them were easily, I would call customer service, find out the fax number, and send them a form letter I'd typed up with my old name, new name, and a place to write in my account number, along with copies of my new driver's license and marriage certificate.  I was really organized, and clearly not busy enough at  my previous job.  So the process was a pain, but nothing too bad and within a few days, all my accounts were updated.  Well, all but one.
Citibank Student Loans is the hold out.  They have never changed my name.  On their online system, I am still Chelsea Winningham.  When I get correspondence from them, I'm Chelsea Winningham-Bednarczyk.  And for awhile, I would send them another copy of my form letter.  When that didn't work, I started to call them.  They would tell me that they had updated their system.  I would tell them that couldn't possibly be the case, I was receiving mail with a name that never was legally my NAME.  Then I would be told that they had really updated the system that time.  But as recently as August, it was still hyphenated on correspondence that I received. 
A couple of weeks ago, I received an email that Sallie Mae bought my loans from Citibank.  I didn't think much of it, as Citibank had recently deferred my loans again and so knew nothing would be changing any time soon.  Then I got my first piece of correspondence from Sallie Mae, it was addressed to Chelsea Winninghambed.  So is this Winninghambed person on the hook for my loans?
An aside on my darling husband's forethought on the whole family having the same name.  I can't tell you how many times I've been asked for James' name (doctor's appointments, etc,) and then my name, and then the inevitable - "Same last name?" And it is much easier to answer - "Yes."

Houston, we have a MOLAR!

James and his teeth continue to perplex me.  His gums are constantly swollen and it looks like they could all pop through at any moment.  We're always on the look out for more teeth, but we usually get the best look during dinner since James isn't exactly a willing participant in oral exams.  Just a few days ago at dinner I said, "Holy crap!  I think he's got another tooth...  oh wait, that's part of a tatter tot..."  Yes folks , I am eloquent.  But last night at dinner, Adam saw something in the back of James' mouth.  So I poked around a bit and saw that two of the cusps of James' upper right (wait, his right?) molar had poked through, without so much as a complaint from the boy.  I guess as time goes on he has gotten more used to the pain and is dealing with it much better.

Splish Splash

Bath times with James have become very interesting lately.  The bath is something James has not always been so fond of.  This is mainly because for the first 9 months (if not a little longer) James didn't take baths.  As soon as his umbilical cord stump (ewwww) came off, he started taking showers with Adam every other night.  This was really the easiest way to get him clean, especially on our very cramped work week schedule.  Initially, we thought Adam could do showers so that the boys could bond since I would be breastfeeding and get my skin to skin time in that way.  Of course, plans are for chumps and breastfeeding was not to be.  But anyway, Adam would get the shower going, I'd undress the little babe, hand him off to dad who would wash him in the shower, and then pass him back off to me.  I'd get James lotioned up, diapered, and jammied (yes, I just made a verb out of jammie, to dress one's infant in pajamas) while Adam finished up his own shower.  From the beginning, James loved the shower.  I'm told that this is rare in infants, most of them hate the water in their face.  Even at 3 months, James would tilt his head into the spray of water, close his eyes, and enjoy the warmth.  Occasionally, James would shower with me, although I was not nearly as comfortable holding onto a squirmy, wet baby.  Also, since I have to shower with my glasses off, I was doing it blind.  That said, I never dropped him! 
Around 6 months I thought that we should get James used to taking baths, so I brought him in the tub with me one evening.  Talk about a fail, he screamed and cried the entire time.  So we went back to showers, but the problem of James' ever increasing weight was an issue.  He was getting too heavy to hold for that long while soaking wet.  So back to the tub James went.  There were lots more tears, screams, and pleading looks, but now, at 15 months, James is finally enjoying bath time.  He has a few toys that he plays with, his favorite being a bath time basketball set.  And when I take the toys out and get ready to drain the tub, he splashes.  A lot.  James will look at me, raise his hands all the over his head (very dramatic, my kid, no idea where he gets that from...) and then bring them down, creating a minor tidal wave in the bathroom.  I suppose his happy splashes are far better than the screams and cries, but I still end up soaked!

Something I've learned about being a mother...

...is that I may never not worry about James.  Of course I knew going into this gig that he was going to be my main concern for the next 18 years, at least.  And of course I knew that small children incite a lot of worry from their parents.  But I never knew it would be like this.  I never knew that my whole body could be aware of what this small child is doing and I never knew how much my own parents worried about me.  Now I'm not saying that I'm one of these super crazy, helicopter parents.  I don't lose sleep over germs or dirty clothes or messy dinners.  I let him explore, I don't stifle him with my worries.  In the back of my mind though, they're always there.  James growing up has been this completely bittersweet mix of pride at his accomplishments and sadness that my baby won't ever be a baby again.  Adam always says how happy he is that James is growing up and becoming more independent.  One of these days, we aren't going to have to change diapers or feed dinner to him.  I would be lying if I didn't agree that having a toddler who sleeps 12 hours straight is amazing when compared with a tiny baby who is up every 3 hours.  With growing up and becoming more independent comes more for me to worry about.  Like climbing up those damn stairs.  He can get up them just fine, but on the way down he wants to just throw himself down.  Seriously?  Stop throwing yourself downstairs!  He wants to climb up them all the time, regardless of whether mom and dad are there or not.  We put a gate up and you'd swear we'd run over his dog, he's so sad about it.  And then there are worries about what he's not doing.  He's not walking yet, is he talking enough, did I stimulate my baby's brain enough today, and did he get enough healthy foods?  All the while I know that when he does walk (or you know, just get up and run, since he's been holding back on walking for so long) I will probably long for the days when I had a crawler.  It's a fine line between cautious parent and neurotic worrier and I'm definitely walking the line.