Back by popular demand...

Three little monkeys swinging from the tree.

Side note: I had a cute monkey bib for him to wear, but when the kid wants to sleep on his side I just have to go with it.

3 month pictures

Happy Halloweenie!!!

Cameron had a great time in his halloween costume even though we didn't make it trick or treating. He started coughing during the day, and we didn't want to chance the cough turning into something more serious. Yes, our child is a hot dog. Yes, this costume made MSNbc's top 10 most ridiculous baby costumes. Yes, we did have hot dogs for supper. No, I don't think this will be the most ridiculous costume we ever put him in.

His Meme made him the onesie to commemorate his 1st halloween.

Brian carved Cameron's 1st pumpkin.

Gotta wear shades

Cuddle Buddy

I thought Cameron just liked to cuddle up with me during nap time. I was wrong. He loves cuddling with his monkey when napping.

Mommy and Me Day

When did poop become the most important conversion of my day? Cameron is finally converted to all formula no breast milk. Oh yeah, we also decided to go ahead and add rice cereal to his bottles even though the doctor said wait until 4 months. Such the rule breakers! Well I had not changed a poopy diaper since the switch, but my husband called me on the phone this weekend to tell me, "Oh Sarah, it's awful." Today I got to play stay at home mommy, and I was pretty excited. Will he roll over? Will we see cows? Will I get to see a new poopy diaper? At 8am, the smell diffused across the room. I put the kid on the changing pad and tried to brace myself. Nothing could have prepared me for...the diaper disaster! The first diaper is filled to the top (front and back). Okay, we're going to need extra reinforcement. Panic mode - the wipes are stuck and won't come out the box. Let the games begin...I put his little butt back down. Yes, back in the poop. He starts kicking which moves the diaper up his back and now his outfit is covered as well as the fresh diaper underneath. I pick up one leg, he puts the other foot in the poop. I'm still scrambling for wipes. More wipes!!! I pick up both legs, he then sends a stream of poop flying my way. It has so much air that the stream flies past the changing pad onto the carpet below. WIPES!!! WIPES!!! I just grab the diapers and as I'm wrapping them up, he puts his hand in it. So now I'm wiping Cameron's hand, his butt and foot are still covered in poop, there's no more back up diaper under him, and I'm counting as if there is a time limit as to when poop stains carpet.

I pick Cameron up to survey the damage and go get a rag and some stain remover. One pat to the back and there is an enormous burp followed by the sound of running water on the floor. Not running water. 3 of the 4 ounces he just consumed are now covering the back of my shirt, shorts and the floor. This is all before 9am.

Here's a picture of later on that day. He's still a little short for the bouncer so I put a box under his feet. It's probably a big no-no in the baby books, but it's not like I left him with the remote, a TV dinner and checked on him hours later. He only lasted about 10 minutes before we moved on.

What does a girl have to do to get a good steak?

My mouth was watering and the A 1 was ready. I got home from a long day of work to the sound of cows mooing. Yes, cows. Mooing. Looking into my back yard, there are EIGHT cows hanging out crapping up a storm. It's all fun and games until my bushes get eaten. If you've ever been to my house, my back yard bushes are the only things I've managed to keep alive, and I give myself zero credit for that. I'd like to take this time to pay respect to the Indian Hawthorns that battled with the Angus beasts and lost. These plants fought everyday since I first brought them home from Home Depot. They managed to find a way to water and weed themselves. They made it through snow, drought and Hurricane Gustav. I appreciate the pleasing aesthetic they provided for all those years. Now back to the beef. So I have cows in my yard, what to do? I called the police. Ma'am, what's your complaint? I have cows in my yard. Eight cows in my back yard. They're not mine. Sure enough, the cop rolls up fully armed and ready to protect and to serve. He and his buddy manage to startle the cows back into their pasture. They took one look at the dental floss they have for a fence and just assumed the cows wouldn't find their way back. Hahaha. One point for the cows.

Round two starts again with the mooing. The next thing I know I'm changing Cameron and through the window is a future Big Mac. They're back. I call the police again. Hi, it's me again. The one with the cows. They're back. The same cop rolls up, but he doesn't come see me this time. Why? The cows are in the FRONT YARD! The neighbors are out with their cameras because there were five future Whoppers standing in my front flower bed chowing down on those Indian Hawthorns. Of course, I'm on the phone with Brian. "We have cows!!! They are everywhere!!" Cameron is just giggling away. Then the city slicker rolls up. The police department called 1-800-rent-a-cowboy and four cowboys emerge to be the heroes of the day. One of them pulls out an Indiana Jones bull whip and goes to town. It was the coolest thing!!! The police officer is trying to tell him where the cows came in, and the cowboy puts a hand up and says, "Don't worry, they're going to find where to go." I couldn't make this last part up. The cowboy's license plate in the front said, "Beef, it's what's for dinner."

Doctor Disaster

First let me give you the statistical rundown: 13lbs 7oz (75th percentile) and 25 1/4in (90th percentile). Now let me tell you about my adventure. Cameron and I arrived for our 4pm appointment at 3:50. We signed in and took our seats in the well-baby waiting area. I started talking to Cameron and he was smiling back, but just then the eyebrows furrowed. My mom had warned me before leaving that he hadn't spit up after his bottle, which meant disaster was immanent. It started just with a small cry so I flung him on my shoulder and started patting his back. Then the cry went to code level yellow on the disaster scale. At this point the other mommies with the sweet, sleeping babies, shot me the evil eye. One mommy even went so far as to start proactively rocking her baby as if her kid's poop doesn't stink. So I gathered my belongings and carefully avoided the stones being cast at me on my way into the sick baby area. Now Cameron's cry skipped orange and was a raging threat-level red. Oh boy. (At this point I would like to say that this is what happens every evening and every night.) I then abandon my purse and diaper bag and just start pacing. I was like Godzilla climbing over towers of blocks and cars all for the sake of a little quiet sanity. You could see those parents with the sympathetic look to say, "I've been there," yet none of them offered to hold my child. That's one thing...when you have a kid who is fussy and cries, very few people want to hold him. Finally my little doo stopped crying for the 12 seconds needed to gather my belongings and walk in. The nurse says, "So sorry about all the waiting, at least now we can get you out of all that crying commotion." I said, "Yeah, no. My kid's the commotion." Cameron proceeded to send out the threat level red cry in a room that was no joke...95 degrees. I'm sweating and pacing and bouncing and praying for him to just throw up everywhere. The nurses came in to check on me, "Poor baby, did he get his shots???" "Nope, I haven't even seen the doctor yet." Well Cameron didn't make a liar out of me and the doctor was quick to write a prescription and send us on our way. One nurse even complimented me on my patience before asking if I would be okay to drive home. As I carried my screaming child on our walk of shame out the doctor's office, the Lord answered my prayers. The spray zone from Cameron's vomit encompased his bib, the front of my shirt, and the parking lot. Gotta love going to the doctor. Oh yeah, did I mention they gave him a shot?

3 months old!

Cameron is 3 months old today! He's getting really big, and his appearance is changing. I thought he had my eyes and nose, but now he's looking more and more like Brian. This also confirms my belief that someone abducted my calm, laid back child and replaced him with a baby who is training to be a police siren. I thought maybe the screams just applied to Brian, but then I realized he doesn't discriminate when it comes to crying uncontrollably. The "new" Cameron is also "going green." He decided to be eco-friendly and just throw up half his bottle in an effort to reduce the quantity of dirty diapers. I can't decide which projectile end I'd rather. The south pole, though smelly, is contained (for the most part) in one nice little package. The north pole is less smelly but can spew anywhere at any moment. The debate continues.

LSU Boys

This is one of my favorite pictures. Brian was loving on Cameron before going to the LSU vs. Tennesse game, and Cameron just couldn't get enough of him. I can assure you this isn't just gas.