Finn

Baby Finn has been in a dancey mood lately. It’s like he just discovered that his limbs could move in rhythm with the music and he’s all “OMG LOOK I’M MOVING, I’M MOVING, THIS IS SO AWESOME!!”

All I need to do is play his favorite Mickey Mouse Clubhouse Hot Dog song on youtube (or just sing or hum the tune) and his arms involuntarily go into a frenzy.

So. ridiculously. cute.

After having 3 kids who are equally obsessed with this song, I feel like I’m going to stab myself in the ear if I have to listen to a song about hot dogs one more time but then I see this baby going into full on dance-a-thon mode and I find myself looping it for yet another round.

And then maybe just a couple more.

We’re finally back home and I’m taking a break from all the holiday posts to say that 10 days without my baby Finn is far, far too long.

We got back at about 9 last night and I immediately broke my first cardinal rule of never waking a sleeping baby because I couldn’t bear another moment of not holding him. He was tired and a little grouchy but he rubbed his eyes and looked at me with sleepy recognition like he couldn’t believe I was home. And my heart just exploded all over the living room as we all  assaulted him with a million kisses.

Full on baby Finn mania.

Seriously, it was tougher than I expected. By day 7 or 8, I was totally baby crazy. I was like a druggie on withdrawal and my daily fix was four thousand miles away. Every single baby I saw reminded me of Finn Finn and I was turning into the creepy lady who stared too long at other people’s babies. Then after a while, even random dolls started looking like Finn. I could feel my creepiness level maxing out every time I stepped into a toy store because I would hang around at the doll section making googly eyes at all the asian dolls.

Like I saw this doll and almost bought it because it looks *exactly* like Finn but I didn’t because the husband said it was totally creepy and also, it was $69.95.

In other news, after 10 days of not having access to my boobs, baby Finn is now completely weaned. I brought my pump along to keep up the supply just in case and last night after I got back, I tried offering him his favorite boob but he made a face and spat it right out. Then I offered him the other one and he pushed it away with his hand.

So that’s it. The end of my breastfeeding journey.

I might have cried a little (ok, a lot), but I guess it just means my baby is growing up and I have to let him. I didn’t think I’d feel this way but I’m really going to miss it.

I’m starting to think that baby Finn was born with a special power that makes him immune to sleep training.

Over the past nine months, I’ve attempted to sleep train him several times and after a day or 2 into the process, he’ll come down with a mysterious illness, usually involving a high fever. It’s like he can fall ill at will whenever he’s left alone in his cot.

It’s a remarkable talent.

On the off chance that he doesn’t come down with the flu, or have diarrhea, or vomit, or develop a weird rash during sleep training, he thinks it’s a huge joke and makes a complete farce out of my attempts.

This is his idea of sleep training.

After an hour of this, he starts to get tired and he’ll muster his most mournful, heart-melting look while clambering in the general direction of my boobs. I used to have more willpower than this but he looks so longingly at my boobs that I can’t help but cave and offer it to him.

The moment he latches on, he’ll immediately close his eyes and fall asleep with a look of absolute bliss.

So much for sleep training. I think breastfeeding has ruined me.

One of my favorite things to do is look at baby Finn while he naps. Partially because it happens so rarely and when it does, I need to stand there to savor the moment. And also because he looks so irresistibly badass just lying there with his badass hair and his serious sleeping face.

So yesterday while he was sleeping, I couldn’t resist and did this. The hair is all his, by the way.

Say hello to my little columbian drug lord baby. You may call him Pablo.

Truett and Kirsten made a spider out of wool during one of our art sessions some time back and I thought I’d use it as a prop while singing Incy Wincy Spider to Finn.

It’s like one of his all time favorite songs and he was intrigued at first but then he touched it and I don’t know if he hates spiders or he hates wool or both but he immediately made a series of priceless grossed out faces.

Let’s just say that poor Incy didn’t quite make it through the song in one piece.

Baby Finn hasn’t quite mastered the art of speaking yet but he’s not letting a little thing like his lack of linguistic ability stop him from making his feelings clear to us.

Seriously, for a little guy, he’s sure got a lot of expressions.

Here are some of my favorites.