Where do I put it?!

Christmas this year was absolutely fantastic. Having a child be amongst the festivities after years of not having it had turned my parents into comical characters. My father (and brother) insisted on opening up his gifts while he was awake, even though I continued to protest that he really wouldn't remember this.

Christmas morning, I don't recall how many times I had to sigh and say "Mom, he's a month old - he cannot unwrap the gift himself". And I myself continued stuffing the toy after toy infront of his face and saying "Do you see?" "Look what it does!" "Say thank you!" - He did, he saw, and he cannot speak yet. Being a mother, I'm allowed to be annoying, cheesy and unlogical, he will love me regardless.

Last night after days of putting it off, I packed up all of his new belongings from family, friends and the jolly, chubby red guy and brought everything to his nursery. I immediately stared in the closet, the bookcase and as his drawers and back to the newly accumulated trove of goodies.
Where? Where can any of this go?

I managed to throw two toys on top of other toys in his closet (6m+, so still unopened. Yeah, he needs toys like I need a hole in the head) and came to the conclusion this wasn't going to work. I wasn't going to have piles of new clothes and toys sitting all around his room as a trip hazzard for me running back and forth for diapers, wipes, recieving blankets, and so on.. So I began ripping toys out of boxes to condense all the toys. I began taking all of his NB (newborn) clothes, along with my tears, out of his closet and packing them away to donate (or save! This is so hard.)
By the end of the night, I had cleared out everything that he has already grown out of, unboxed 90 percent of his toys and age appropriately organized them, and eliminated everything he won't use for the next year from his room and into my closet.

Please - Remind me he doesn't need any more toys for about another year.
Or two.

Smarter than Mommy.

A few weeks ago I was contacted by a health care nurse who wanted to make sure all was well. Being registered as a single mom, she asked if it would be okay to make a home visit to ensure I was healthy, and to examine the baby and make sure everything was "going to code".

To her immediate surprise, Kaiden was awake drinking his bottle, hands around both sides, trying to hold it himself. She smiled, and started commenting on how that was unusual for a newborn, but then started handing me pamphlets on activities to do with him in the area, discussing formula feeding, ect.

She then asked me to lay him on his stomach so she can monitor his head control.
Since day one, everyone who has held him has commented that the control he has in his neck is outstanding for an infant, but I never thought much of it. "My boy is strong, okay?! I fed him right!"
He immediately planted both his hands and lifted his head up as high as he could - and she kind of stared in awe. She handed me medical charts and growth charts and started drawing lines and pointing out already existing lines. "This is where he should be, down here" she indicated at the bottom, and then she traced the line to 6 to 9 weeks and stopped her finger "He's up here. I'd say 98th percentile.. he's at least a month or more advanced."

Now, I'm not sure if she saw the alarmed look on my face, but she insisted everything was fantastic and that it may have to do with how well I carried him (health means everything!). Apparently it's common in babies whom were born late, and had mothers who were very health conscious when pregnant. Thanks for not eating so much meat, little man.

Fact of the matter is, as time has gone by I have increasingly noticed how bored he seems by common, mudane newborn activities. No, he doesn't want to just sleep. He wants to stare at his mobile and grab for the toys dangling infront of his face. He wants to be in his swing at the fastest speed it can go, staring at everything as he swings by.

Needless to say, he keeps me on my toes a lot more than the ordinary baby. My smart little baby boy. You better become a doctor, kid.