The end of my first baseball season is coming to an end. I was very sad this month to learn that my team, the Mets (even though Dad tries to pretend I am a Tigers fan), didn't make it to the division finals. I was very bummed out, especially since Daddy forgot to tape the final game at Shea stadium for Mom and me. I am a positive kind of guy though, and the good news is that my first season of football started. I am all ready to sit back with Dad on Saturdays. Maybe my favorite football team will win...
Or maybe not.
Usually, we just find it best to take a nap and spoon. During my naps, I find it very comforting to chew on my hand. I spend much of my day trying to see if I can get my entire fist in my mouth. Almost can. The great part is that it gets all wet and slimy and then I can reach up and grab Mom's hair or face. It kind of makes me drool, too, which is really great because I can leave spit everywhere!
I want everyone to meet my friend, Helen. Dad keeps saying that she is my girlfriend, but I don't think her parents let her date yet. Plus, I don't really think you can call it a date when your Moms come along. We go walking once a week with her and her mom at the track by Lakeshore Drive. I really enjoy that. One day soon, I will get to walk and stroll with my newest friend, Ben. He was just born on October 8, and I am so excited to meet him when he can start socializing. Mom and I went to a consignment sale at the church and bought me a jogging stroller. I can't wait to use that. I will be able to show off for Ben. We will really look like professionals. 
Speaking of our workouts, Mom has started working with a personal trainer on Mondays. Apparently, the wound has caused her to have a little extra flab around the middle. I think that she needs to build muscle to carry around my car seat. I sit in my car seat, chew on my hand a little, and watch her and Joe while they work out. I like his name. I am usually pretty good, but sometimes I get really, really bored and have to let them know that it is just time to go. There are only so many squats I can watch! It makes me want to go home and get on my activity center and kick.
My activity center is my abosolute favorite place in the world! It wears me out! I spend hours and hours here. That is where Daddy always puts me when Mommy tells him to watch me...and he goes to take a shower. I have gotten really good and moving around on it. When my parents walk into the other room for just a minute, I sometimes scoot all the way off and onto the hardwood floor. I can definitely turn around and around in circles by kicking, and it is so much fun to pull on my animals. I can almost put the monkey's arm in my mouth to chew on it. I will get there soon. I am working very hard on turning over, but I can't figure out where that left arm is supposed to go. I keep getting stuck on it. Can someone help me?
Oh, boy! You have no idea what my Uncle Tommy and Aunt Nicole found for me. A ball! It is the best ball ever! I love the ball! I can hold the ball! I can chew on the ball! I can throw the ball! I can talk to the ball! It is not the dog's ball, but my very own ball! And, it goes in the dishwasher! I never knew there was anything this fun!
I am not sure that people should give me nice things. I really do appreciate them, and try to look very handsome for a photo or two. But, then, I get a little squirmy.
It seems like it is much more fun to play with the gown than to wear it, so I start to wrinkle it up a little in my hands. Then, I get an even better idea.
Nothing tastes better than a really nice, hand-embroidered gown! It was very nice to chew on a little bit. I don't really like to slobber and chew on those cheap onesies they get me. But a cute outfit just needs to be wet! Then, I get to wear several in one day. I can't wait to taste my Christening gown!
Can you believe these people? Look what they have me sleeping on now! This is my "Tucker Sling" for reflux babies. I am tied down to this thing all night long so that I do not get choked up on my reflux. Please! I think my parents have lost their minds. Okay, so I do sleep just fine on it, but I look ridiculous. It does get me near my Detroit Tigers mobile.
It goes around and around and around...Daddy is hypnotizing me into liking this team more than the Mets.
Mom goes to Bible study on Monday nights and Dad gets to baby-sit me. We have boys night. He feeds me my Neutramagin, and we watch guy movies like Rambo. He likes to put me on my Boppy pillow while we hang out. I cover my eyes at the scary parts. We both usually fall asleep before Mom gets home. She takes me and puts me in my bed and that is where I wake up. 
Sometimes I hang out on my Boppy in the mornings, too, after I wake up. Mom has really been working hard to try to get me on a schedule, but I stay one step ahead of her! I wake up at a different time every day. Sometimes, I sleep almost all night, and sometimes, I will wake up at 2:00 or 3:00 or 4:00 in the morning to eat a bottle...and I will NOT go back to sleep until that lady feeds me. I have found that they think I am cute when I wake up with my happy squeal. I hang out in my crib, strapped to my wedge, and happily scream and scream. I let them know that I am awake and need attention, but they can't get upset when I make happy sounds. The other way to get on their good side, is that I smile really big when they walk into my room in the mornings. I really am glad to see them, but the best part is giving them a big hug. I hold on very tight because I haven't seen them in a long time.
I have hit some really great milestones. I am getting pretty good at sitting up. Not quite by myself, but in Mom or Dad's lap or proped up. I sat in this Bumbo seat for this picture, but I have not been really into this since. I have started to grab Mom's hair and necklaces and shirt and anything else I can grab onto. I laugh histerically when they give me kisses on my cheek and when they touch my hands to my face. I also talk to people a lot. I try to make eye contact with them so that they know I am speaking to them.
Let me tell you about being a DuMontier. I have had my first big lesson in what that means. It means that you are born with a big head! See my Daddy's? I think he is getting tired of us making fun of it. Here is what happened. I went to see my doctor for my 4 month visit and my head was 17 1/2 inches around. That makes me be in the 90%. I started at the 50% when I was only 2 months old. So, after remeasuring my head three times because she kept saying it couldn't be right, my doctor scared us all by saying it could mean that I had hydrocephalus which is water on the brain. Even though she said we could wait and see what happens at my 6 month visit, Mom said absolutly no way! The doctor had to schedule me an appointment at Children's Hospital to get an ultrasound of my head and see what was going on in there. Mom was so freaked out and afraid. She did lots of internet research, and Dad told her to get off of the internet because it was just going to scare her. Everyone she talked to just kept saying,"Has she seen Joey's head?" This started to hurt Daddy's feelings after a little while, but Mom just really wanted us all to have big heads so that everything could be okay. Grandma Libby told us that Daddy's head was even bigger than mine when he was a baby. I got really tired of Mom staring at my head and comparing it to internet photos. So did Dad. Finally, we got to go and get the ultrasound. It was a horrible test! They pinned me down on the table and this lady pressed down on my head really hard with her machine. I let them know in no uncertain terms what I thought about all of this. After all, I knew I was fine. Guess what? They tortured me for nothing because I am fine. I am just a DuMontier. We are very smart, so we need big heads for our big brains full of knowledge. I hope I am as smart as my Daddy is one day.
This was not our only medical trauma. Mommy is about to have a nervous breakdown because she learned growing up how to be a hypochondriac. First, I got a really bad cold. I was running a fever and my nose was running like crazy and I was coughing. I went to see the doctor. She said I had a cold but to come back if I still had a fever at the end of the week. During the week, I got so tired of Daddy sticking that thing up my nose to get all my snot and buggers. He loves doing that, and it makes me so mad. On Friday, I still had a fever, and it was going up. We went back to the doctor. I had an ear infection now, and I had to take my very first antibiotics. Then, we had to go back for the check-up and had the head trauma. Because of my ear infection and slight fever, the doctor did not give me my vaccines. The next week, I had to go back and get those. They caused me to run a very high fever and scare Mom again. I felt so bad and was fussier than ever. The nurse said that it couldn't be the vaccines, but guess what? The fever came when I got them, lasted until the night of the next day, and then it was gone. It was so the vaccine! I had FIVE after all! Except for the vaccine day, I just laughed and laughed through it all.
I am now 25 inches long and 15 pounds 11 ounces. Everyone keeps telling Mom I am a big baby, but I am right where I am supposed to be.
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