Food for the five-month-old!

Yesterday, Pookie turned five months old. Where is the time going, seriously?

The day before, we finally broke out the big-people food for him. It was a couple of weeks earlier than the pediatrician recommended, but Pookie seems ready for it: He tries to grab our food, he watches us with pitiful eyes while we eat, and the bottle alone doesn't seem to suffice anymore. So we tried oatmeal mixed with formula. And what did Pookie think about it all?

First he cried, "What is this mushy stuff, and why is it on this big, long rubbery thing?

Then he considered it further and asked, "You mean, I have to wait between spoonfuls? It's not a continuous flow of nommies like from my bottle?"

After a few more bites, Pookie remained unsure whether to like or hate this oatmeal stuff. He finished the whole serving, though.

After a couple of more days of much of the same thing, he still doesn't know whether he's into it. I think he likes gnawing on the spoon more than he does actually eating the food. What ever the case might be, the whole affair usually ends the same way:

Food for the five-month-old!

The definition of love.

My whole world, my reason for being, lies on our couch.

My sleepy Valentine!

To mark Torin's first Valentine's Day, he...snoozed! But not before he spit up a lot, cried, and acted generally cranky. Okay, so he's not exactly the Cupid type; that's okay. He's Mommy's cute little Valentine, no matter what.

Here's Pookie with a Valentine from "Grandma" Shirley as well as a Valentine and a monkey from Mommy and Daddy.

We chose the monkey because we always call Torin "Monkey Face," especially when he sleeps, because of his chubby cheeks and wide mouth.

He's my little Monkey Face Pookie Valentine, and I love him like I've never loved a Valentine before.

Night fever.

And not the good kind of fever the Bee Gees sang about, unfortunately.

We spent last night in the emergency room with Torin. He has been sick all week and running a low fever, but that fever spiked to 103 degree yesterday evening. After a visit to the pediatrician earlier this week and a phone call with their nurse last night, we headed over to Medical City.

Despite Torin's uncontrollable screaming and crying, the nurses were eventually able to get enough blood and urine to run tests. They also took a radiograph of his lungs. Luckily, everything came back negative--no RSV, no flu, no fluid in the lungs, no UTI, no serious dehydration. They gave Torin an I.V. of antibiotics and sent us on our way.

Upon waking up this morning, Torin's temperature was already 101 degrees, so we visited the pediatrician's office again upon their request. The doctor suspects that it's nothing serious and that it should pass in a few days. This evening, Torin seems to be feeling a little better. His fever is certainly not as high as it was last night, and he's even smiling a bit. Let's hope the worst has passed.

Happy four months!

So slowly yet so quickly, our baby boy grows. This contradiction amazes me. But I wouldn't change any of it for the world.

Unfortunately, our big little boy is running a fever this evening. I called the doctor's office, and I was told not to worry about it just yet. I am to give Torin Tylenol every four hours, and then we will need to make a trip to see the doctor tomorrow.

While it wasn't the greatest of days for Torin, he did seem to enjoy the Super Bowl--more so than his Mommy and Daddy did!

Reaching out.

Yesterday, Torin hit another milestone. In other words, he found a new way to melt his parents' hearts. He began reaching for us when we bend over to pick him up.

There are really no words. Just love.