Yesterday Wes had his first taste of ice cream. The first little spoonful was of lemon ice cream. His expression didn’t change, but he didn’t spit it out either. It must have melted on his tongue and then dribbled down his throat. Since he didn’t seem opposed to it I gave him another taste, this time of chocolate ice cream. His reaction was the same as with the lemon. I fed him a second taste of the chocolate and held the spoon off to the side while I waited to see how he liked it. His face was as expressionless as before when, all of a sudden, he thrust himself toward the spoon with his mouth wide open so he could lick the spoon clean.

I think it’s the beginning of the end.

Wes and I are in Iowa this week to see my parents. Here are a few of our adventures so far.

My dad gave Wes a tour of the farm:

And my mom took him on a grander tour on the “Terminator”:

Yesterday we drove 3 1/2 hours south to Nauvoo, IL. The weather was beautiful when we left Dubuque, but turned cold and rainy by the time we reached Nauvoo. We ate lunch at the Nauvoo Mill & Bakery, bought a souvenir T-shirt (courtesy of Grandma Holt) for Wes, and walked around the Nauvoo Temple grounds. I had Wes in the Baby Bjorn with a couple blankets wrapped around him and a hat on his head to try to keep him warm. More pictures of our Nauvoo and Iowa adventures to come.

Me, Wesley, and my niece Savannah

On Monday Wes became a hulking eight-month-old.

By “hulking,” I mean that Wes:

1. Has grown out of size 1 diapers and is into size 2.
2. Has grown out of nearly all his 0-3 month clothes and is filling out his 3-month clothes, and I think he’ll be working his way into 3-6 month clothes over the course of the early summer months.
3. Is a champion sitter-upper.

He loves sitting up. He can’t get there on his own yet, but if we set him up he can hold his balance well (although he still falls over, and frequently backwards, hence the pillows in the photo).

His therapist visited yesterday and was impressed by how well he sits up. The last time she came (three weeks ago) he was just starting to sit up with propping (his hands in front of him to hold him upright). Now he’s a sitting-up machine. The next thing we’re going to work on with him is setting toys on either side of him so he’ll rotate and reach while sitting. This will strengthen his torso muscles and get him ready to learn how to exit sitting and and lead into crawling. The average baby with Down syndrome sits up around 11 months (for regular kids the average is 6-8 months), so we feel like Wes is doing great.

I take him to lap time at the library every Monday. He may miss the finer teaching moments of baby sign language and ignore the teacher when she’s reading a book out loud, but his attention is gripped by the other babies and he looks around nonstop. He seems to enjoy having so many moving things to look at. That’s why I also sometimes take him outside to sit on our porch and watch the cars drive by.

He’s more interested in things now. Before, he’d like to look at things like his toys and mirrors and people, but now he’s reaching out to touch all those things. Like when we’re walking by a toy in his room he’ll reach out his arms and throw his whole body toward it so he can touch it and play with it. He’s surprisingly opinionated, especially when he’s tired, and when he wants to look at something you’d better have a good grip on his body so it doesn’t fly out of your arms as he reaches out to touch something.

He also has favorite rooms in the house. It surprises me that babies know and remember where things are. He knows which doorways lead to the bathrooms (where the mirrors are), and if you’re holding him while walking past one such doorway, be prepared for him to fling himself in that direction. He loves looking at himself and whoever is holding him in the mirror. He especially likes to stand in front of the mirror and have you help him walk toward his reflection. He is all smiles.

We keep checking, but no sign of chompers coming in yet.

Wes was fine today, until we got back from running together (by that, of course, I mean I ran and he slept in the stroller). From about four o’clock on he wouldn’t do anything I wanted him to do. If I wanted him to play quietly so I could do something that contributes to my sanity, such as eat dinner or take a shower, he wouldn’t. He wasn’t screaming or anything, just being fussy and noisy.

The most blissful moment of my night was when I finished giving him his last bottle around 8 p.m. and he lay peacefully in my lap, staring up at me with big, glassy, tired-looking eyes. This lasted for about five minutes, him just looking up at me, until his lids finally got heavy and blinked a few times, and then he was out. FINALLY!

So THEN I got to eat dinner and do the one fun thing I had told myself I’d get to do tonight–make cookies. Only here’s how it went.

While the oven preheated I rolled the cookie dough in cinnamon and sugar (for snickerdoodles) and put them on the baking sheet. When the oven was halfway to 375 degrees I started to notice the air was getting rather smoky, and it smelled like smoke, too. I turned around and saw a thick haze of smoke right above the oven. I opened its door and smoke poured out. I shut it fast, but not before noticing some nice charred remnants of last night’s frozen pizza burning bright orange on the oven’s floor. I didn’t want to set off the smoke alarm (especially since the baby had JUST gone down to sleep), so I turned the vent on high and quickly ran around opening windows and the back door. Between the vent blaring on high speed and the book on CD I was listening to (Princess Mia, by Meg Cabot) turned up at top volume so I could hear it over the vent, it’s probably lucky the smoke alarm didn’t go off, because I likely would have blown an eardrum from all the noise. The open windows and door helped, though; soon the smoke levels diminished, and my cookies were baking merrily away in the oven.

I was just shaking my head at all the hassle I’d gone through for the sake of a batch of cookies when I noticed a strange, loud buzzing sound above me. I looked up and saw the hugest moth EVER frantically banging its head against the kitchen light fixture. This guy was two or three inches long, with a very pretty wing design that I would have admired had I observed it in its natural habitat outdoors and not in my kitchen at 9:30 at night when I’m trying miserably to make a batch of cookies. Normally I solicit John for all insect-related incidents, but he was working late and I was on my own. I had the good sense to turn off the kitchen light so the moth would quit banging against it, which it did, but then it flew frenetically all over everywhere in the dark, and I had to try to track it down with my hastily rolled-up newspaper, praying I’d smack the thing before it buzzed its way into my bowl of cookie dough. The moth finally settled against a window screen. I grabbed a dustpan and slapped it over the moth, which captured it, then slid a JCPenny ad between the moth and the screen to create a little trap. I carefully but quickly carried the moth to the back door, which I had closed as soon as I had seen the moth inside. As I was about to open it again, the moth escaped its trap and took refuge in the light fixture near the back door.

And then . . . I’m not sure what happened, exactly. Maybe the moth singed itself on the hot light as it tried to hide in the fixture. Or maybe I was a little more aggressive with the dustpan than I had thought. Because the moth didn’t move anymore after that. The three-inch guy is lying peacefully in our light fixture. And I’m not sure what to do about that.

So that’s how I ended up with a dead moth in my light fixture and a plate full of cookies. But at least Wes never woke up.

UPDATE, two hours later: I was in bed, trying to drift off to sleep when I heard that familiar fanatical flapping sound again. It was the moth, back from the dead! Or, I guess, it never was dead, but was maybe good at playing dead? Or maybe I had just tired it out from chasing it all around the kitchen. In any case, it was back. John is still at work, so I was still on my own to get rid of this guy for once and for all. This time it was me, the moth, and a giant issue of Allure magazine having a showdown in the hallway outside Wesley’s bedroom. I didn’t want to wake the baby with all my whapping, and I actually didn’t want to hurt the moth, but it’s nearly midnight and I was getting desperate. Let’s just say that the Allure magazine did the trick, at least to stun the moth well enough that I could take it downstairs and dump it out our back door. Who says fashion magazines are useless?

In February I took Wes to a professional photographer. I wanted high quality photos of my first baby while he still looked like a baby. He was five months old at the time, but the photographer said he still looked newbornish enough that she would take the type of photos she takes for newborn babies–a lot of diaper-only ones!

Wes was so good during the whole hour. He was all smiles for the photographer, throwing smiles left and right–until the photographer’s face disappeared behind the camera, that is, and then he went completely straight-faced. She managed to capture a few smiles on film, but it was lucky.

The photographer commented that she didn’t think Wes looked very strongly like he has Down syndrome. I think some of the photos capture his DS better than others. But that’s how he is in real life, too; sometimes he looks like he has it and sometimes he doesn’t. Then again, I’m his mom and I see him all the time, so maybe I’m just used to how he looks. In any case, the photos seem to capture him in a variety of moments and expressions that are authentic, and I’m glad we have them to keep forever.

Here are some of the photos that were taken. They are all copyrighted by Busath Photography.

I like that Wes knows who I am. When he sees me, he smiles.

It’s surprisingly gratifying to have that kind of an effect on someone.

Also, yesterday I took him to the park, where he had his first experience in the baby swing that didn’t involve banging his forehead on the rubber. Now that his neck and torso strength is improving, he can hold himself up pretty well.

…Although he still has a bit of growing to do before he fills up the baby swing adequately.

This picture is of his first-ever slide experience. He was sitting when I started him down it, but somehow during the going-down process he ended up on his feet.

(Thanks to Tara for the park pictures!)