Carrots!!

My baby ate carrots!! I win! I win! I win! I will slip peas back in there soon, once I'm certain that he's over his spoon issues. It was a messy process but who really gives a flying fart? He's eating FOOD. Evidence:

Granted, it took him three days to consume one jar of baby carrots, but I have no clue what his little stomach is capable of holding, so I consider that a success.

Also, could his GORGEOUS eyes be any bluer??

I did not, in any way, doctor this photo. Obviously, because I still haven't figured out how to use Photoshop. Isn't this ridiculous though? It's almost easy to ignore the orange slop all over his face (and yes, in his HAIR TOO) with those eyes staring at you.

So now we've tackled food. Sort of. He still refuses to eat cereal. Is cereal all that necessary? Will his growth be stunted because he doesn't eat it? Could I totally skip that part of his meals? Will it drain the pretty blue from his eyes? (If the answer to that question is "yes" or even "maybe" then I will force-feed the child cereal if it comes down to it. I. Love. Those. Eyes.) I'm considering feeding him his vegetable straight from the jar for the first part of his meal and then mixing in fruit with the cereal as "dessert." I really don't want to do any fruits until we've mastered vegetables though...

Although we don't technically have solids under control, I am calling that problem "SOLVED" and moving on to the next issue; we are experiencing some troubles in the sleep department. Well, I am at least. Steve seems to have no trouble sleeping through EVERYTHING. And waking him up to go check on Sam and then answer questions about what might possibly be wrong with him wakes me up just as much as if I checked on him MYSELF so why even bother waking Steve? No sense in both of us being grouchy the next day. Sam sleeps on his side now (yes, it IS the cutest thing you've ever seen in your life), but lately, he finds himself rolling over onto his stomach during the night (MULTIPLE times a night) but can't roll himself back over onto his back. So he summons me in there many times a night to roll him onto his back, only to roll back on his side before I even leave the room. This is BEYOND frustrating because whenever he cries, I feel like I HAVE to go check on him because what if he's on his stomach and can't roll back over? Or smushed up against the bumper? What if I let him cry it out and he ends up suffocating on the bumper? What if his pacifier is oddly smashed up under his back and he can't get it out himself? What if he wet through his super-absorbent diaper and now his onesie is soaked? Who on earth (baby or not) could possibly sleep comfortably with a bumper in their face, a pacifier in their back, or a cold, wet, onesie on them?

And this is why I am not sleeping anymore... Fortunately, Sam isn't in the habit of calling me in there just to chat. There is something that usually requires taking care of, but this stomach thing? How on earth do I train him to push back over? It's getting really ridiculous, people.

Sam had his well-baby checkup yesterday with his NEW DOCTOR at his NEW CLINIC which also happens to be BRAND SPANKIN' NEW. Very nice. No wait in line, nice chatty nurse (Auburn fan- obviously, as friendly as they come), good view of the interstate out the window (read: lots of moving colors for Sam to stare at, keeping him entertained for multiple minutes at a time), and a good visit with the doctor. Everyone told me he was the cutest baby they had ever seen (well, duh, because he IS the cutest baby this side of the Mississippi). He was so cute in fact, that they didn't want to see him cry so they didn't give him his shots. Yay! Actually, they didn't have one of the shots there that he needed, so instead of doing all of the shots but one and coming back for it later (yikes, bad idea), we opted to wait until they all came in. I prefer to keep the screaming and the trauma to a minimum.
Developmentally, he's doing fine (besides eating the solid foods and all), his weight is average, and they measured his head twice, which leads me to believe that he's housing a lot of brains in that gorilla head of his. The nurse asked me questions like, "Is he experiencing any back pain? Is he depressed? Does he have suicidal thoughts?" To which I replied, "He hasn't complained about his back since I pulled that pacifier out of there. He doesn't like to talk about sad things like depression. And after listening to me sing the SAME FIVE SONGS all day long like a broken record, I'm sure there are a few suicidal thoughts swirling around in his head, but he doesn't usually voice them to me." Of course, she knew that these questions were really silly when referring to a 6-month-old baby, but she had to ask them anyway. I thought it was funny. Or maybe it was just the TALKING TO AN ADULT part that was fun for me. She kept apologizing that she was taking so long, but seriously? Like we have something else to be doing right now? TAKE YOUR TIME WOMAN.

Next up on our list of things to do is turning SIX. MONTHS. OLD.