Make Me a Sandwich!

So it's been forever since I posted. I rationalize that it's because I am too busy and have lots of things to do while online but really I'm reading other peoples' blogs.
Yesterday I made a sandwich and tempted Little Boy (who is now seven months and nursing upside-down while I type) to crawl to me by showing him my sandwich. Obviously I gave him bread and meat from it (we do baby-led solids), I didn't tease and then eat it all myself. Anyhow, you should have SEEN that child motor. Such a man already.
Today, he crawled to me at the mere WORD "sandwich", no proof needed.

"Kiddo, come see Mum."
*LB looks at me and whines pitifully.*
"C'mon, buddy, come see Mama."
*More whining.*
"C'mon, bud. Sandwich."

His face lit up like it was Christmas and he scooted his little belly over to me as quickly as he was able. Turns out the "Make me a sandwich" thing starts early!

Intentionally vomiting to get to Daddy?

Little Boy is now five weeks and already seems to prefer my husband to myself. When I hold him, he's either nursing or looking for Daddy.

I bought a new sweater to encourage me to trim down after having Little Boy. I wore it for the first time yesterday; it made me feel really good. I had gone through most of the day without getting anything on it, but after feeding Little Boy, he gave me a Mommy Badge by spitting up on my shoulder. I handed him to my husband to tidy up and Little Boy smiled and looked over at me.

Did he throw up on me just so I'd pass him over?

Alternative dentistry...

A bit of background info before I begin my next story.. My husband had a cake made for Valentine's Day. Now, we're fans of the TLC show, "Cake Boss", so it wasn't just a plain cake from the grocery store. He had a red velvet cake made with buttercream and fondant decorated with polka dots, also made from fondant. I'd never had fondant before, but that's beside the point. The point happens to be that this cake was quite sweet and sticky.

In any case, we three that are old enough to indulge in baked goods were enjoying a slice each, when Big Boy started picking at his teeth. I reminded him that he'd need to brush his teeth when he was done eating, and he pointed out that it wasn't bedtime and therefore, not teeth-brushing time yet, either.

Big Boy is all about routines. I hope he's a normal three-year old and isn't developing my particular brand of OCD. Only half-listening to his protests, I told him he'd need to get the fondant out of his teeth before they rotted out of his head (I can be dramatic when the need arises).

... He stated quite confidently, "Naw, Mummy, the cake will get it out."

Is there a specific place I'd go?

Why do people feel the need to assume a person will or will not have more children? When I had one child (and even now that I have two, since they're both boys) people felt the need to ask when I was having more. Is there something wrong with a person being satisfied with the number of children they have (however temporarily or permanently) or with them continuing past two or three or half a dozen?

For example, while in the mall with my husband and two sons, a woman commented on the likelihood of a girl "next time". Now, we are not sure if we'll be having more children or not. It's not that we wouldn't love more; it's a possibility in the future.. But our younger son is four weeks old today, and people were commenting within days of his birth about trying for a girl. Anyhow, this woman seemed sweet enough, and I'm certain she meant well. I laughed off her comment, while seething inside at her assumptions.

My older son turned three the day before his little brother was born, and is very perceptive to our moods. Out came this gem:

"Mommy, you have 'nother baby and then you have three kids and you'll run away and say, 'AHH!'"

I love his dark humour.