September 3rd, 2006. Beau is good. Still learning how to bottle. He spells almost everytime. He usually drinks 20 or so mL with breathing breaks inbetween. Then chokes and has a big spell. It's frustrating to watch. I am having the hardest time accepting that I can't do it for him. I so wish I could give him a piece of my brain or pass it on or show him how to do it. This is the hardest part of the journey thus far. We are so close to leaving. The nurses keep saying, "When he goes home" and everyone asks or says, "He'll be home soon." I just wish I knew when. Most of you reading this blog know I really don't have a lot of patience, especially in hurry-up-and-wait situations. Okay enough.

Now for the good stuff. When he doesn't spell, he's very organized when he takes a bottle and he definitely wants it.... bad! He's so funny leaning forward to the bottle or rooting his head to the side looking for it, mouth wide open. And when he gets impatient he starts sucking the air and smacking his lips. He's too funny. Also, he's come off the the oxygen and has been off for 4 days now! He's now waking up hungry before his feeds and often needs burping. He's awake and calm longer and longer now. I love leaning down to him and resting my head on the side of his bed. He looks at me with big, wonderous eyes and tries reaching for me. So far he's been able to grab my mouth and nose once he fingures out the depth perception. He's also mastered the art of huge, stinky, explosive poops. You all might me laughing right now, but I assure you it only gets better. Yesterday our little man hadn't pooped for about 24 hours and his nurse had no sooner called down to the pharmacy for a suppository that Beau gave a push and pooped very loud and wet sounding into his diaper. Although we giggled, we didn't mind too much seeing as it was time to change him anyhow. I assure you, the smell hit us before I even opened the diaper. So here are Neill and I trying to clean the giant amount of poop off of him when I say, forget it. I grab the dirty diaper, which is full up to his back, and wipe him as I take it off him. Then I hold his legs up and wipe him off. At this point he farts so loud that I jump back thinking he's going to poop, plus it scared me a little- wasn't expecting it and all... I know you all are laughing whole heartedly right about now! So Neill laughs at me for being such a girl about a fart when I grab Beau's legs again and reach across his bed to get a fresh diaper and he pushes, and a HUGE stream of projectile yellow brown poop squirts from all 5 lbs 11 ounces of him. He hit the end of his crib, all across it, and onto the floor 5 feet away. For all of you that might think 5 feet is a little too far for poop to fly, let me assure you we measured it. It's 5 feet. Now I'm laughing hysterically because there's nothing else I can do. Meanwhile Beau is the happiest he's been all day just calm and looking around. Neill is trying to get me to help him clean it up, nurses are coming over to survery the damages and I'm still laughing hysterically. Later, after a bath and a new bed, and 15 minutes of clean up that turned into, "Just throw it away," Neill tells me about the poop on my sleeve. Yes, I was caught in the crossfire. My beautiful little boy has had his first poop on me and my husband is still telling me about his quick jump back that saved his shirt. Now I'm hoping all of you might take a few minutes out of your laughter and fits of giggles to keep praying for Beau's bottling. Thank you!