Twelve weeks ago, I was in a hospital rocking chair, knitting, wondering what my baby would look like, pausing to breathe through the contractions as they came. I was in a bathtub, pressing my feet against the jets to take my mind off the pain. I was in a bed, with Velcro straps around my enormous, itchy belly, huffing and pushing and thinking that hey, this part isn't so bad after all.
Twelve weeks before that, I was 28 weeks pregnant. I was counting the months, the weeks, the days until I could be done with pregnancy. I was impatient, thinking twelve weeks seemed like a century, a lifetime, an eternity. And now, here we are at twelve again, and this time, twelve weeks seems like a flash, a blink, a microsecond.
I took a breath and pushed out a baby. I took another and he's twelve weeks old. He smiles. He laughs. He discovers that he controls his own voice and chats with the cashier at the supermarket. The cashier tells me about her grandson who is twelve months old, who is walking, who just had his first encounter with a bee. I hold my breath to slow down time.
I don't think it works.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Making Excuses
I know I haven't been keeping up with posting here on the blog, but if it's any consolation, I am constantly composing posts in my mind--while I feed Luke, while we're driving and he's screaming his head off, while I'm trying to fall asleep. It's my new version of self-speak, apparently, to gather my ideas together in a somewhat coherent manner. And then, I get to the computer and instead of coming to the blog to type out one of the (MILLIONS of) posts I have floating around in my head, I check my email and play sudoku.
I've decided it's because I am, by nature, a procrastinator. I like to Put Things Off. And when I was working, I used this blog as an outlet to help me put off doing things that were part of my job description. Now, however, my job description has changed drastically and really only includes things like "feed the baby," and "change the baby," and "try to make the baby smile." And the baby, as it turns out, is a far more demanding taskmaster than any of my previous bosses.
See, he expects first-rate performance all day, every day and he doesn't stand for excuses. If I tell him that I have a headache or that I didn't get any sleep the night before or that my printer is broken, he doesn't care. He just sits there and screams (Loudly. Unwaveringly. Punishingly.) until I get back on track. So my current job does not allow for procrastination of any kind. In fact, it calls for all kinds of forethought--the baby's going to wake up in 10 minutes? Well then, I'd better get a drink and go to the bathroom and switch the laundry to the dryer RIGHT NOW or there will be hell to pay. (Can I just say that I used to schedule bathroom breaks around nap schedules at the daycare, and I had fully forgotten how much that sucks until I started having to do it again?)
So the only avenue I have for procrastination is with this blog. And also, with writing emails. Which is why I have 2 weeks worth of posts getting jumbled up in my head, as well as at least three Very Important Emails that should have been written and sent out last week, but are also still jumbled up in my head.
I've decided it's because I am, by nature, a procrastinator. I like to Put Things Off. And when I was working, I used this blog as an outlet to help me put off doing things that were part of my job description. Now, however, my job description has changed drastically and really only includes things like "feed the baby," and "change the baby," and "try to make the baby smile." And the baby, as it turns out, is a far more demanding taskmaster than any of my previous bosses.
See, he expects first-rate performance all day, every day and he doesn't stand for excuses. If I tell him that I have a headache or that I didn't get any sleep the night before or that my printer is broken, he doesn't care. He just sits there and screams (Loudly. Unwaveringly. Punishingly.) until I get back on track. So my current job does not allow for procrastination of any kind. In fact, it calls for all kinds of forethought--the baby's going to wake up in 10 minutes? Well then, I'd better get a drink and go to the bathroom and switch the laundry to the dryer RIGHT NOW or there will be hell to pay. (Can I just say that I used to schedule bathroom breaks around nap schedules at the daycare, and I had fully forgotten how much that sucks until I started having to do it again?)
So the only avenue I have for procrastination is with this blog. And also, with writing emails. Which is why I have 2 weeks worth of posts getting jumbled up in my head, as well as at least three Very Important Emails that should have been written and sent out last week, but are also still jumbled up in my head.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Friday, July 24, 2009
I Call Shenanigans
Dear Cable Company,
For the past year, we've already been paying what I consider to be a rather ridiculous amount of money for our Internet service and our cable service. And now, you're telling me that our so-called promotional rate ended and you want us to pay time and a half for services that are, at best, mediocre? ARE YOU PEOPLE OUT OF YOUR EVER LOVING MINDS???
Let's discuss this, shall we? Granted, we need our Internet service, both for McMoose's job and for my own sanity, but dude! We've called you at least 5 times in the past year because our Internet has been down for long periods of time. One of those times, it was out FOR DAYS. And then, your representative came out here, tracked mud all over my apartment, and fixed a problem that we could very easily have fixed ourselves, had you told us what to look for.
And then, there's the cable extravaganza. I'd like to take this opportunity to point out that we didn't even WANT cable to begin with. What we wanted was an apartment with three bedrooms and plenty of storage, and in the course of securing such an apartment, we were forced to get cable by the management company. So okay. We have cable. And then, when I called to set up Internet a year ago, you people told me that I could get "digital cable" (aka: the HBO movie channels, which we have watched maybe 12 times in the past 12 months) and a DVR for an extra $7.00. At no point was it mentioned that this was a promotional rate.
And now that we have once again been sucked into cable TV, now that I have a child who likes to eat for an hour at a time, who makes it impossible for us to sit down and watch our favorite shows when they're regularly scheduled, NOW you tell us that it was a promotional rate? Which has ended? And we have to pay five times what we were paying for this service just one month ago? AHAHAHAHAHA. Yeah. Right.
Oh, and by the way, I think it's ridiculous and completely un-American that you fools have a monopoly over Internet and cable services in this area. That's right, I WENT THERE.
Good day.
For the past year, we've already been paying what I consider to be a rather ridiculous amount of money for our Internet service and our cable service. And now, you're telling me that our so-called promotional rate ended and you want us to pay time and a half for services that are, at best, mediocre? ARE YOU PEOPLE OUT OF YOUR EVER LOVING MINDS???
Let's discuss this, shall we? Granted, we need our Internet service, both for McMoose's job and for my own sanity, but dude! We've called you at least 5 times in the past year because our Internet has been down for long periods of time. One of those times, it was out FOR DAYS. And then, your representative came out here, tracked mud all over my apartment, and fixed a problem that we could very easily have fixed ourselves, had you told us what to look for.
And then, there's the cable extravaganza. I'd like to take this opportunity to point out that we didn't even WANT cable to begin with. What we wanted was an apartment with three bedrooms and plenty of storage, and in the course of securing such an apartment, we were forced to get cable by the management company. So okay. We have cable. And then, when I called to set up Internet a year ago, you people told me that I could get "digital cable" (aka: the HBO movie channels, which we have watched maybe 12 times in the past 12 months) and a DVR for an extra $7.00. At no point was it mentioned that this was a promotional rate.
And now that we have once again been sucked into cable TV, now that I have a child who likes to eat for an hour at a time, who makes it impossible for us to sit down and watch our favorite shows when they're regularly scheduled, NOW you tell us that it was a promotional rate? Which has ended? And we have to pay five times what we were paying for this service just one month ago? AHAHAHAHAHA. Yeah. Right.
Oh, and by the way, I think it's ridiculous and completely un-American that you fools have a monopoly over Internet and cable services in this area. That's right, I WENT THERE.
Good day.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
The Big Question
We've had a busy couple of weeks around here, filled with doctor visits, outings with friends, and generally lots of things that have thrown us out of our groove. One thing I've noticed during all of this is that everyone--from his pediatrician to my friends to the cashier at the supermarket--has one question: how's he sleeping?
The first few times I got this question from strangers, I cheerfully replied that he's a wonderful little sleeper, he goes for 6-8 hours at night without needing to eat, and so on. At which point, the other person would often respond with an "Aww, what a good baby!" And then, I'd feel all happy and proud because hey, I had a good baby.
But after having this conversation over and over (and did I mention OVER?) it is starting to grate on my nerves. Because what if, like the majority of babies his age, Luke wasn't sleeping through the night? Would that somehow make him a BAD baby? Would that mean that he's destined for a future of knocking over liquor stores and planning bank robberies? I mean, really.
So now, instead of going into details, I've started saying "He sleeps okay." Which is apparently code for "he wakes up every 15 minutes and I have lost the will to live," because the response I get nowadays is "Aww...well, hang in there, it'll get better....my kid didn't start sleeping through the night until he was 2 years old." And then, Luke and I exchange a sly grin and go home to take a nap together.
The first few times I got this question from strangers, I cheerfully replied that he's a wonderful little sleeper, he goes for 6-8 hours at night without needing to eat, and so on. At which point, the other person would often respond with an "Aww, what a good baby!" And then, I'd feel all happy and proud because hey, I had a good baby.
But after having this conversation over and over (and did I mention OVER?) it is starting to grate on my nerves. Because what if, like the majority of babies his age, Luke wasn't sleeping through the night? Would that somehow make him a BAD baby? Would that mean that he's destined for a future of knocking over liquor stores and planning bank robberies? I mean, really.
So now, instead of going into details, I've started saying "He sleeps okay." Which is apparently code for "he wakes up every 15 minutes and I have lost the will to live," because the response I get nowadays is "Aww...well, hang in there, it'll get better....my kid didn't start sleeping through the night until he was 2 years old." And then, Luke and I exchange a sly grin and go home to take a nap together.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Lunchtime Fun
I got to have lunch with some friends today, one of whom has a baby just a few months older than Luke and at some point in the afternoon, it occurred to me that the last time I had seen this baby, he was Luke-sized and Luke was very much smaller and living in a dark and watery world. In fact, I used to joke that Luke was jealous because as soon as I picked up this other baby, Luke would start kicking at him and there were a few times that he kicked so hard that the other baby actually started crying.
And now, suddenly, Luke is the baby in my lap and my friend's baby is sitting and crawling and reaching for toys and shoes and laptops and oh-my-goodness-when-did-this-happen? When I was pregnant, there was so much possibility and I was in such a state of anticipation and now, all those things I was excited about are here and happening and I just have to say, I love this ride.
And now, suddenly, Luke is the baby in my lap and my friend's baby is sitting and crawling and reaching for toys and shoes and laptops and oh-my-goodness-when-did-this-happen? When I was pregnant, there was so much possibility and I was in such a state of anticipation and now, all those things I was excited about are here and happening and I just have to say, I love this ride.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
M.D.: Mightily Dumb
I'm going to preface this by saying that this will be a LONG post. Make a cup of coffee, get a blanket, go to the bathroom, whatever.
So. Luke had his 2 month pediatrician visit today. Have I ever mentioned how much I HATE AND DESPISE the medical establishment? Oh, I have? Multiple times? Awesome. Good news first: he's growing like a champ and now weighs in at 11 lbs, which is a gain of about 2 lbs since his last visit a month ago. Granted, he's no heavyweight...in fact, he might even be classified as a bit of a peanut since he comes in at the 24th percentile for weight and the 53rd for height (23.25 inches!), but he's a cute little peanut and carrying him around is a whole lot easier this way.
I should probably mention a few things about Luke. (1) He's exclusively breastfed, so he's never had any formula, ever. He does get a bottle of pumped milk every now and then, but it's not very often. (2) He wears cloth diapers. We LIKE the cloth diapers. He gets rashes in disposables. (3) He mostly sleeps in our bed, although we have started introducing the crib just this week. He sleeps 6-7 hours in a row, which is pretty good for his age and we're perfectly happy with this. (4) He's not circumsized. Since this is not the norm, I've read plenty about how to care for him because I knew that not all doctors are knowledgeable about it. (5) He will be vaccinated using an alternative schedule, which basically just means that about half his shots will be given 1 month later than the schedule recommended by the CDC.
So as soon as we get there, the nurse called us back, and I got to have this conversation with her:
Nurse: Is he eating well?
Me: Yes.
Nurse: How many ounces does he take at a feeding?
Me: Well...he's breastfed, but I think 3-4, based on how much pumped milk he'll take from a bottle.
Nurse: *Stares* But what about formula?
Me: Uh, he doesn't get any formula.
Nurse: None? Are you sure he's eating enough?
It was at this point that I realized this would not be a happy visit. (Sidenote: Yes, he's getting enough. He's gaining weight. He's outgrowing his clothes. He has plenty of wet and dirty diapers. He's content after feedings. He's FINE.)
After the oh-so-wonderful nurse left, I expected the doctor to come in. Instead, a medical student comes in. Now, this has happened in the past because apparently, our pediatrician's office is part of some training program so 4th year med students tag along and help with the examinations. I've never minded in the past because I figured that hey, they need to learn somehow and I'm happy to help. But today, Luke was already crabby because it was naptime and I had FINALLY gotten him asleep when this woman decided to go poking around at his belly and his feet. This, of course, woke him right up and thus started ScreamFest 2009.
He screamed while she poked his soft spot. He screamed while she tested his reflexes. He screamed while she told me that "cloth diapers can cause diaper rashes," and lectured me about his vaccinations schedule. (Of course, she began this lecture by saying, "It's completely your decision, but...") He screamed when she picked him up very awkwardly in an attempt to comfort him. He screamed when she KISSED HIS HEAD. (Hey, stranger whom I've never met before in my life: Why are you picking up my child and kissing his head???) He screamed when she looked at his eyes and his ears and his nose. FINALLY, she decided she'd done enough and left the room.
10 full minutes of screaming later, I managed to get the kid calmed down again when who should walk in but the doctor. Who wanted to repeat all the exams that the med student had JUST DONE. Which of course, led to ScreamFest 2009, Part II. Which led, in turn, to the following:
Doctor: Oh, is it time to eat?
Me: No, he's tired.
Dr: Are you sure? Has he eaten yet this morning?
(Sidenote: it was 10:30 in the morning. Did he really think I hadn't fed my child yet?)
Me: Yes. Twice. At 6 and again right before we left home. He's TIRED.
Dr: Hm. At 2 months, babies start developing sleep problems, so we'll get you a brochure. The important thing is that you always put him in his crib awake so he can put himself to sleep.
(Sidenote 2: Important to WHOM? Because I don't remember complaining about Luke's sleep habits)
When I mentioned that in fact, he sleeps 6-7 hours at a stretch, he actually had the gall to say "Well, but he's in your bed, so it's not real sleep." Oh, really? So his eyes aren't really closed? He isn't really snoring? How interesting...he seems remarkably cheerful and well-rested for someone who has apparently never gotten any "real" sleep.
And then! Just to really finish the appointment in grand fashion, he proceeded to retract the child's foreskin, which is a big, fat no-no, and when I looked at him in horror, he told me that repeated retractions help "stretch it out." Um, actually, according to the American Academy of PEDIATRICS, forced retractions are unnecessary and cause pain, bleeding and infections. So. Basically, the guy has no knowledge of what is recommended by HIS OWN PROFESSIONAL ORGANIZATION.
Then came the oral vaccination (which Luke did not appreciate) and the shot (which Luke really, REALLY did not appreciate). So all said and done, we messed up our daily routine, drove a total of 50 minutes through rush hour and construction, went to a place filled with sick children, and waited for ridiculous amounts of time, just to get lectures FROM A MED STUDENT about medical decisions we've already made with the full support of our pediatrician, idiotic parenting advice that I didn't ask for, and a potentially harmful examination. Next time, I wish they'd just weigh the kid, give him his shots, and send us on our way.
So. Luke had his 2 month pediatrician visit today. Have I ever mentioned how much I HATE AND DESPISE the medical establishment? Oh, I have? Multiple times? Awesome. Good news first: he's growing like a champ and now weighs in at 11 lbs, which is a gain of about 2 lbs since his last visit a month ago. Granted, he's no heavyweight...in fact, he might even be classified as a bit of a peanut since he comes in at the 24th percentile for weight and the 53rd for height (23.25 inches!), but he's a cute little peanut and carrying him around is a whole lot easier this way.
I should probably mention a few things about Luke. (1) He's exclusively breastfed, so he's never had any formula, ever. He does get a bottle of pumped milk every now and then, but it's not very often. (2) He wears cloth diapers. We LIKE the cloth diapers. He gets rashes in disposables. (3) He mostly sleeps in our bed, although we have started introducing the crib just this week. He sleeps 6-7 hours in a row, which is pretty good for his age and we're perfectly happy with this. (4) He's not circumsized. Since this is not the norm, I've read plenty about how to care for him because I knew that not all doctors are knowledgeable about it. (5) He will be vaccinated using an alternative schedule, which basically just means that about half his shots will be given 1 month later than the schedule recommended by the CDC.
So as soon as we get there, the nurse called us back, and I got to have this conversation with her:
Nurse: Is he eating well?
Me: Yes.
Nurse: How many ounces does he take at a feeding?
Me: Well...he's breastfed, but I think 3-4, based on how much pumped milk he'll take from a bottle.
Nurse: *Stares* But what about formula?
Me: Uh, he doesn't get any formula.
Nurse: None? Are you sure he's eating enough?
It was at this point that I realized this would not be a happy visit. (Sidenote: Yes, he's getting enough. He's gaining weight. He's outgrowing his clothes. He has plenty of wet and dirty diapers. He's content after feedings. He's FINE.)
After the oh-so-wonderful nurse left, I expected the doctor to come in. Instead, a medical student comes in. Now, this has happened in the past because apparently, our pediatrician's office is part of some training program so 4th year med students tag along and help with the examinations. I've never minded in the past because I figured that hey, they need to learn somehow and I'm happy to help. But today, Luke was already crabby because it was naptime and I had FINALLY gotten him asleep when this woman decided to go poking around at his belly and his feet. This, of course, woke him right up and thus started ScreamFest 2009.
He screamed while she poked his soft spot. He screamed while she tested his reflexes. He screamed while she told me that "cloth diapers can cause diaper rashes," and lectured me about his vaccinations schedule. (Of course, she began this lecture by saying, "It's completely your decision, but...") He screamed when she picked him up very awkwardly in an attempt to comfort him. He screamed when she KISSED HIS HEAD. (Hey, stranger whom I've never met before in my life: Why are you picking up my child and kissing his head???) He screamed when she looked at his eyes and his ears and his nose. FINALLY, she decided she'd done enough and left the room.
10 full minutes of screaming later, I managed to get the kid calmed down again when who should walk in but the doctor. Who wanted to repeat all the exams that the med student had JUST DONE. Which of course, led to ScreamFest 2009, Part II. Which led, in turn, to the following:
Doctor: Oh, is it time to eat?
Me: No, he's tired.
Dr: Are you sure? Has he eaten yet this morning?
(Sidenote: it was 10:30 in the morning. Did he really think I hadn't fed my child yet?)
Me: Yes. Twice. At 6 and again right before we left home. He's TIRED.
Dr: Hm. At 2 months, babies start developing sleep problems, so we'll get you a brochure. The important thing is that you always put him in his crib awake so he can put himself to sleep.
(Sidenote 2: Important to WHOM? Because I don't remember complaining about Luke's sleep habits)
When I mentioned that in fact, he sleeps 6-7 hours at a stretch, he actually had the gall to say "Well, but he's in your bed, so it's not real sleep." Oh, really? So his eyes aren't really closed? He isn't really snoring? How interesting...he seems remarkably cheerful and well-rested for someone who has apparently never gotten any "real" sleep.
And then! Just to really finish the appointment in grand fashion, he proceeded to retract the child's foreskin, which is a big, fat no-no, and when I looked at him in horror, he told me that repeated retractions help "stretch it out." Um, actually, according to the American Academy of PEDIATRICS, forced retractions are unnecessary and cause pain, bleeding and infections. So. Basically, the guy has no knowledge of what is recommended by HIS OWN PROFESSIONAL ORGANIZATION.
Then came the oral vaccination (which Luke did not appreciate) and the shot (which Luke really, REALLY did not appreciate). So all said and done, we messed up our daily routine, drove a total of 50 minutes through rush hour and construction, went to a place filled with sick children, and waited for ridiculous amounts of time, just to get lectures FROM A MED STUDENT about medical decisions we've already made with the full support of our pediatrician, idiotic parenting advice that I didn't ask for, and a potentially harmful examination. Next time, I wish they'd just weigh the kid, give him his shots, and send us on our way.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
When Dreaming Ends
I had almost constant dreams--er, nightmares--early in my pregnancy. Then, at week 18, I had an ultrasound and from then on out, not only did the nightmares end, but I actually did not have any dreams that I could remember. This continued until about 2 weeks ago, and since then, I've been making up for lost time with some very odd dreams:
-McMoose turned into a merman and decided to live in the Atlantic and drive submarines.
-The Dog started hypnotizing everyone to do his evil bidding.
-The baby developed magical abilities that allowed him to disappear into thin air, but then he couldn't reappear, so I had an invisible baby and everyone thought I was nuts.
-Teeth were discovered to be the new fossil fuel and everyone gave up their teeth except me, so I was then being hunted for my teeth.
I've always had strange dreams, but this is just ridiculous!
-McMoose turned into a merman and decided to live in the Atlantic and drive submarines.
-The Dog started hypnotizing everyone to do his evil bidding.
-The baby developed magical abilities that allowed him to disappear into thin air, but then he couldn't reappear, so I had an invisible baby and everyone thought I was nuts.
-Teeth were discovered to be the new fossil fuel and everyone gave up their teeth except me, so I was then being hunted for my teeth.
I've always had strange dreams, but this is just ridiculous!
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Bipolar
Yesterday was a very trying day. Yesterday was my first full day at home alone with Luke in a week and it was a long day, entered into with less than 5 hours of sleep the night before. Yesterday was a day filled with tears (Luke's) and desperation (mine) and irritation with the animals (both of ours). Yesterday, I could not see how I could possibly continue to do this job for one minute longer and my most fervent wish was that it had been a Friday so that I'd get a reprieve the next day.
Today is the polar opposite. We both entered today well-rested and happy. Today has been filled with smiles and songs and sunshine. I wish I could bottle up this feeling of contentment so that the next time I have a day like yesterday, and I know I will, I could use it to shore up my patience and my confidence.
Luckily, with each passing week, days like today are increasing and days like yesterday are dwindling. I do wonder, however, why it always seems to be one extreme or another. Why is there never a day when things are going okay? Why must it always be this erratic swing between absolute joy or complete hopelessness? (And when will I find a middle ground?)
Today is the polar opposite. We both entered today well-rested and happy. Today has been filled with smiles and songs and sunshine. I wish I could bottle up this feeling of contentment so that the next time I have a day like yesterday, and I know I will, I could use it to shore up my patience and my confidence.
Luckily, with each passing week, days like today are increasing and days like yesterday are dwindling. I do wonder, however, why it always seems to be one extreme or another. Why is there never a day when things are going okay? Why must it always be this erratic swing between absolute joy or complete hopelessness? (And when will I find a middle ground?)
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
An Apology And A Warning
Dear Dog,
I appreciate the fact that you've adapted so well to life with a baby. I understand that we didn't consult you before bringing this screaming person into your life. I'm sorry that you've lost all you favorite spots on the couch and the bed to the baby. I'm even more sorry that we rarely have time to play ball with you anymore. I'd like to think we're making up for that by (a) rarely putting you in the cage anymore and (b) taking you for longer walks.
I still love you dearly. However, the next time you decide to go lick the baby's face and wake him up after I spent 45 minutes trying to get him to sleep, I'm selling you to the nearest camp of traveling gypsies.
I appreciate the fact that you've adapted so well to life with a baby. I understand that we didn't consult you before bringing this screaming person into your life. I'm sorry that you've lost all you favorite spots on the couch and the bed to the baby. I'm even more sorry that we rarely have time to play ball with you anymore. I'd like to think we're making up for that by (a) rarely putting you in the cage anymore and (b) taking you for longer walks.
I still love you dearly. However, the next time you decide to go lick the baby's face and wake him up after I spent 45 minutes trying to get him to sleep, I'm selling you to the nearest camp of traveling gypsies.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
2 Months Old!
I decided to take a hiatus from posting last week because McMoose's mom, sister, and 18-month-old nephew had come for a visit. Hey, did you know 18-month-olds are AWESOME? They're possibly the most entertaining people on the planet. Also, possibly the most accident prone. On the plus side, we now know to get edge protectors for our coffee table before Luke starts walking because apparently, coffee tables act as magnets to small heads.
Today marks 2 months from the day Luke was born and to mark this momentous event, he has decided to revert back to his newborn ways. He has been more or less sleeping through the night lately and I've been very excited that I got one of those mythical "good sleepers." Last night, of course, he decided that it was absolutely imperative to wake up in a blind fury every 3 hours. Here's hoping that was a one-night thing because dude, I'm so not feeling a return to the bleary eyed days of serious sleep deprivation.
He has spent this month becoming less blob and more person, as evidenced by the smiling, the rolling over, the focusing on faces, and the tracking of toys and animals and 18-month-old cousins. He has also spent this month becoming much more savvy about How To Get His Way, as evidenced by the staring soulfully into people's eyes while crying RIVERS OF REAL TEARS and the smiling with extraordinary charm when I'm trying to get him to take a nap that he does not want to take. (Because apparently, naps are for babies, and he feels that he is quite grown up. I told him that if that's the case, perhaps he could learn to use a toilet like all the other grown-ups in the house. He responded by rolling his eyes, I'M NOT EVEN JOKING.)
In any case, here's the month in pictures...
We started the month in the blobby phase:
Then came the discovery that sleeping on a person is more comfy than sleeping on a bed...aka: the beginning of the end:
The end of the blobby phase began with the holding up of the massive head:
And continued with the advent of the smile:
And the reaching for the camera:
And the sticking out of the tongue:
There was grouchiness about meeting new people:
And the realization that new people might not be so bad after all:
Of course, this was all a lot of work and required massive amounts of time spent sitting, thinking, and chewing on one's own hand:
Today marks 2 months from the day Luke was born and to mark this momentous event, he has decided to revert back to his newborn ways. He has been more or less sleeping through the night lately and I've been very excited that I got one of those mythical "good sleepers." Last night, of course, he decided that it was absolutely imperative to wake up in a blind fury every 3 hours. Here's hoping that was a one-night thing because dude, I'm so not feeling a return to the bleary eyed days of serious sleep deprivation.
He has spent this month becoming less blob and more person, as evidenced by the smiling, the rolling over, the focusing on faces, and the tracking of toys and animals and 18-month-old cousins. He has also spent this month becoming much more savvy about How To Get His Way, as evidenced by the staring soulfully into people's eyes while crying RIVERS OF REAL TEARS and the smiling with extraordinary charm when I'm trying to get him to take a nap that he does not want to take. (Because apparently, naps are for babies, and he feels that he is quite grown up. I told him that if that's the case, perhaps he could learn to use a toilet like all the other grown-ups in the house. He responded by rolling his eyes, I'M NOT EVEN JOKING.)
In any case, here's the month in pictures...
We started the month in the blobby phase:
Then came the discovery that sleeping on a person is more comfy than sleeping on a bed...aka: the beginning of the end:
The end of the blobby phase began with the holding up of the massive head:
And continued with the advent of the smile:
And the reaching for the camera:
And the sticking out of the tongue:
There was grouchiness about meeting new people:
And the realization that new people might not be so bad after all:
Of course, this was all a lot of work and required massive amounts of time spent sitting, thinking, and chewing on one's own hand:
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Not Exactly What I Had In Mind
One of the first baby items I started looking at when I found out that I was pregnant was a crib. After all, where does a baby spend more time than in a crib? As it turns out, EVERYWHERE. My particular baby, for instance, prefers to sleep here:
Or here:
Or here:
And what has happened to the very lovely, oh-so-expensive crib, you ask?
Or here:
Or here:
And what has happened to the very lovely, oh-so-expensive crib, you ask?
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