Be Gentle

Most babies hear the phrase, “Be gentle!” fairly often. It’s usually directed at older siblings or other small children who are less than delicate about interacting with a small baby. With Ryan, however, I’m usually telling HIM to be gentle. He’s such a big strong kid that when he swats at something (like my face), he can do a lot more damage than the average baby.

His size definitely has an effect on how I interact with him. I love to roughhouse and wrestle with him, but I need to be careful because when he stomps on my stomach with his full weight, it HURTS! I have bruises all over my legs from him digging his toes into me while trying to scramble up the “Mommy mountain”. When I have him in my arms and he pushes away from me, my arms are practically wrenched out of their sockets with the effort to stop him from escaping. And I haven’t been able to toss him in the air since – well, ever.

Fortunately, his daddy is big and strong and tough enough to roughhouse with him properly. In fact, it’s probably easier for Herb to deal with a big baby because he hardly has to hold himself back. Just this afternoon Ryan was crawling around on the bed while Herb was putting on his running shoes, and as Ryan snuck behind him Herb threw himself back and pinned Ryan to the bed. If he were more of a delicate flower, we’d have to be a lot more careful playing that kind of game with him. But since he’s virtually unbreakable, we don’t need to be concerned with being gentle.

It will be interesting to see how his size affects both his and our behavior as he gets older. No doubt, when he starts playing more with other kids, there will be plenty of “Be gentle”s aimed at him. No doubt we will need to remind him often that he’s bigger and stronger than the other kids and that he needs to be gentle with them. When he reaches the toy-stealing stage, we’ll definitely have our work cut out making sure he doesn’t beat up any kids who try to take his toys – and making sure he doesn’t claim every toy he wants just by using brute force!

But we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, I’ll settle for making sure he doesn’t send me to the emergency room. At least, not too often.

Big Baby, Little World, or Of Banana Peels and Socks

The trouble with baby stuff, for a baby the size of Ryan, is that he tends to outgrow things physically long before he outgrows them developmentally. For example, he doesn’t fit into the infant car seat that we refer to as the “baby bucket” anymore. So we got a larger convertible car seat, which works just fine in the car. However, when we go grocery shopping and I need to use a shopping cart, I used to be able to pop the whole baby bucket into the cart, but the bigger car seat doesn’t work that way. We do have a “Floppy Seat”, which is a padded liner with a lap belt that goes into the “seat” in the front of the cart, but since Ryan can’t really sit up on his own yet, the name “Floppy Seat” takes on a whole new meaning. By the time most babies are too big for the little car seat, they’ve been sitting on their own for weeks or even months and are just fine with the Floppy Seat. But for Ryan, I need to stuff things on either side of him to prop him up or the poor things lists to the side and dangles uncomfortably by the seat belt.

Clothes also tend to be a problem. Five-month-old babies who weigh 27 pounds are just not proportioned the same way as 18-month-old toddlers at the same weight. Ryan’s 18- and even some 24-month pajamas squeeze his massive thighs like a pair of sausage casings, even though the feet are sticking out well past the end of his feet. Every pair of pants he has is rolled up several inches. And don’t even get me started on socks.

Too late, I’m started. Infant socks are designed for babies who don’t wear shoes, right? So they usually have nice little rubberized patterns or printing on the bottom so when baby is playing in his bouncy chair or practicing walking with Mommy or Daddy holding him, he doesn’t slip. But once you get to size 24-month socks, baby should be walking and therefore wearing shoes, so no more non-skid bottoms. Well, for a giant baby with giant feet who’s nowhere near walking yet, this can be a problem. When Ryan is in his Jumperoo with his big boy socks on, his feet skid this way and that like he’s slipping on banana peels! (You were wondering when I’d get to the banana peel part, weren’t you.)

And as amusing as that may be for Mommy and Daddy, eventually it gets frustrating for the little man. Not to mention that it doesn’t give him as much practice with his walking muscles as if his feet had grips. So we usually end up giving in and taking off his socks completely.

At least we know this is a problem he’ll outgrow eventually. Oh, the irony.

My Baby Ate Your Dingoes

We've all seen this T-shirt and heard the old line, "Dingoes ate my baby!" Well, no dingo alive could manage to eat my baby. In fact, any dingo crazy enough to try it is likely to get eaten itself. Because my baby continues to hold the title of World's Biggest Baby!

The latest proof is a visit we had the other day with a friend of Herb's from work who has a baby a few weeks younger than Ryan who is literally half his weight. She is a lovely, delicate little peanut who looks even more dainty and petite next to our big, rugged pumpkin:

Note that her dad is easily holding her in one hand, while I am hefting Ryan with both arms. The young lady herself seemed to be a bit dubious about the behemoth hanging out next to her:

But Ryan was a gentleman and shared his stuffed duckie, so I think his reputation as a gentle giant may be intact.

His size continues to amaze friends and strangers alike. He was a bit fussy in church yesterday so I took him into the hallway to walk while I listened to the service. Another mom was doing the same with her son, and I was chatting with her and another woman who was passing by. The other mom mentioned that her son was 10-1/2 months old and the third woman asked if the boys were about the same age. I told her that Ryan was only 3-1/2 months old and her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. "My goodness!" was her reaction. I laughed and told her we get that a lot.

He is a big bruiser, but he's perfectly healthy and strong and well-proportioned and has the shoulders of a linebacker. As tough as it is on my back some days, I wouldn't have him any other way. He is now, always has been, and always will be my perfect little baby boy. Just keep your dingoes at a safe distance.

He Obviously Didn't Get the Memo

Being a new mom in this age of technology, I am naturally subscribed to all kinds of electronic newsgroups and newsletters. Every few days a new e-mail appears in my inbox informing me of my baby's latest developmental steps. How many naps a day he's probably taking, how much and how often he's eating, when he can hold up his head on his own, when he'll start reaching for his toys, when he'll start smiling or laughing or cooing. I understand that these are only general guidelines, but I do have to laugh at how far off they often are from Ryan's actual development.

The biggest discrepancy is, of course, eating and gaining weight. Today's 16-week newsletter, for example, reassured me that the rate of my baby's growth is more important than his actual size, so I shouldn't be worried if he isn't as big as I think he should be at this point. Um, not really a problem. I'm more worried that he's going to be Andre the Giant by first grade, at the rate he's going. According to most of the newsletters and pediatricians' columns I've been reading, Ryan should be eating around 4 ounces of formula every 3-4 hours. Yeah, he DEFINITELY didn't get that memo. Even at 4 ounces every three waking hours, that would be a total of 24 ounces a day. My little man knocks back 35-45 ounces a day. But then, he weighs 24 pounds at a time when most babies weigh less than 12, so it wouldn't be unexpected for him to be eating twice as much.

Average 3-1/2 month old baby

My giant baby at 6 weeks in the same chair.

Note the location of his head sticking over the top of the chair.

SIX WEEKS, people!!

But I don't mind that Ryan seems to be a bit ahead of the curve. Sure it's a little tough on my back, and it seems we're getting him the next size up in clothes and diapers every week, and we'll be in the market for a bigger car seat before the month is out, but my big boy is healthy and strong and alert and curious. And that's what counts.