Smiles are the best medicine

As some of you know Noah and I have spent the last couple of days at the Quakertown hospital. I could get into the details of my step-father Larry's terminal illness or relay the none too funny story of having my father admitted to the same hospital to take up Larry's former bed when they moved him from the ICU - but this blog really isn't the place for those sort of details. I will say quickly though that it appears my father's ailment is not too serious and he should be out of the hospital at any moment today - though unfortunately I can't say the same things for Larry.

I'm not too sure how my Mom would feel about me disclosing info on Larry's condition in such a public forum and plus this blog is primarily for Noah stuff. So I will just comment that a baby in a hospital is like a ray of sunshine from heaven. Quakertown Hospital doesn't have a maternity ward so all the residents and nurses alike were just so pleased to see Noah's smiling little face so they could take a break from the dealing with the sadness of illness. It was a constant barrage of "How old is he, "His eyes are enormous," and "He's so beautiful." And many times I heard "Enjoy him." This comment is the one I receive most often from women who have already raised their children. They go on to tell me how each stage felt like the best, how the years went so fast, and how much they treasure memories of their kids when they were little. And one day I'm sure I'll pass on the same info. But until then I will remind myself to "Enjoy him."

So Jen asked me the other day what makes the first three months the hardest - and I thought that was are a really valid question. Both the parents and the baby make the first three months the hardest.

For the mom (won't speak for Mark) I will say lack of experience is the most significant factor. For your first one this has got to be the biggest deal because you don't know ANYTHING - even if you read all the books - so every little thing seems like a big deal. But even for later children you don't know the child yet - and since every child is different and it takes awhile to learn their cries, learn their likes and dislikes - the learning curve is difficult. Change is also a huge component since overnight your life is changed into something completely different. Take everything you did on a typical day and throw it out the window. You start your life anew with no routine to follow. After three months you will have established patterns and schedules and after that is seems SO much easier. Also mom is physically recovering from labor or surgery and if you breastfeed it can take you that long for your nipples to "toughen up."

A newborn is harder than a slightly more developed infant for a few reasons. Newborns have no sense of day or night at first so they will often take a few weeks to sleep longer in the night. This lack of sleep for the parents makes a huge difference. Developmentally a newborn is just not as fun as an infant. They are tiny and precious but they have no real personality yet. They eat, sleep, evacuate and cry. Crying is their only real form of communication. Newborns do not make eye contact, do not giggle, do not smile and do not play. This definitely makes the first few months harder and once they can finally really connect with you it feels AMAZING. But that reward isn't really there at first.

There are probably a bunch of other reasons too - but those are the ones I can think of right now. So when everyone says "The first three months are the hardest" they are in no way kidding. That isn't to say that there aren't some wonderful things in the first few months - I still adored them. Mark and I already look back at the pictures of Noah's first couple of weeks and say fondly "Do you remember when he was that teeny tiny little worm?"

The blog may be a bit spotty in the next couple of weeks as Noah and I plan on spending a bit of time going back and forth to Qtown to spend time with Mom and help her and Larry out in any way necessary. Most likely we will just be hanging at Mom's house so she can balance all the hard times with time with her smiling, giggling grandson. Oh - and maybe me too.

Cliches are often true

Confronted with the terminal illness of a family member I can't help but marvel at how precarious and precious life is.

Bella wasn't buying Noah's fresh moves.  

Come back, Ma! These people are nuts. 

They think they're people!

So today I went to my OB for my annual visit and I was delighted to find out that Dr. Kamaljeet Murthy is pregnant with her second son and due in June. This of course brought on talk of when and if Mark and I are going to have a second child. I told the Doc that I'd like to have another sooner rather than later so that they are close in age. I then said "That of course won't be that easy on me in the beginning, but I think it will be best for the kids and in the long run." And Doc said "That's true - but the hard part is over before you know it."

But it seems the hard part IS over before you know it. When I was pregnant I heard "the first three months are the hardest" a GAZILLION times. And BOY were they right. Now Noah seems like a piece of cake in comparison. And I'm sure it will be even more daunting to be going through the first three months with a new infant while tending to a toddler. But you get through it because as hard as it is, it's also a joy and it's worth it in the long run.

Of course it would be easiest if baby number two were a carbon copy of baby number one. But those crazy babies are born as different as people. Grown people that is. They're born with different likes and dislikes and you can bet that what Noah liked won't provide much guidance for us on baby number two. Last night Mark and I had the pleasure of babysitting Ms. Bella so that Patrice and Sean could attend a screening at the film fest. We were only double babying it for an hour since Mr. Noah is a morning person (up between 4 and 6 am) and was in bed by 7:30 pm and Ms. Bella is a night owl (sleeps in) who wanted to hang out. This was perfect for last night -but can you imagine how hard it is if your two kids had totally different sleep preferences? It means you would be up late with one and up early with the other. No time for sleep! That sounds nightmarish - but it happens and parents get through.

The developmental differences and preferences between Noah and Bella are astounding considering they were born only four days apart. While Noah is a rolling fool that can barely sit up even when propped, Bella loves to sit and hates to roll. Noah eats ANYTHING like a champ but Bella is far advanced with raspberries and consonant sounds galore. Noah likes to hang out in the Bjorn but hates being strapped in the stroller while Bella is a stroller fan who puts the kibosh on the baby sling. So you see you never know what you're going to get because these silly babies are actually born with personalities. They think they're people! And don't let any book or parent tell you that your child is late or wrong because they aren't doing what another kid of the same age is doing. You certainly can't assume there's a problem. Growing and learning are really personal things that can't be judged too strictly on a universal time scale. Hell, it took me forever to learn to knit and I still suck at it - that doesn't mean I'm a slow learner or that I have a problem. At least not that I'm willing to admit to.

So in the not too distant future we might be up for a second one. And if we're lucky enough to conceive and deliver he/she will offer new challenges and the two of them will run me ragged. There will be nights when I'm so tired I won't be able to see straight and times when I wonder "what in hell was I thinking" but the hard part will be over before I know it. And later it will seem that the tender childhood years were gone in a flash and I'll want to relive them all - even the hard parts.

Moms don't get sick leave

There was a couple minutes this morning where I thought I was going to have to go to the hospital. I was laying on the hallway floor nauseated, sweating, and having abdominal pains and Noah was squawking in discontent from his Exersaucer. I called Mark and told him to look up the symptoms of appendicitis. He said nausea, sweating and abdominal pains. Luckily I think I was just suffering a minor stomach issue. It subsided after a spell in the loo. But for a couple of minutes I was in a panic. Not about the hospital or the operation but "WHAT ABOUT MY BABY?"

What does one do with an infant if you get sick? Of course this is not the first time I have thought of this. I worry about coming down with the flu, breaking a limb or being briefly incapacitated. One thing I think about frequently is falling down the basement steps while the baby is napping. If I were knocked unconscious while Noah was napping would he just scream in his bassinet until Mark came home or would he master climbing/rolling out and fall on the floor? Would Mark know if he didn't hear from me all afternoon that something might be wrong?

I know. I deserve a Nobel Prize for worrying at this point. It's just so weird to have this other little person who is totally dependent on you. I can't really do anything without having to think about what would he do, where would he be at the time. It really is an overwhelming thought.

Beware: Breast Talk

It should be no secret that I have not loved every minute of breastfeeding. I'm not a big fan of sore nipples, gihugic unwieldy breasts that can't fit in anything, unsupportive bras that fling open, leaking, or even wearing a bra at all hours of the night and day. The first three months were HARD. I was so sore. The only thing that stopped me from quitting is because I promised myself and Noah that I would breast feed him for six months - following the current medical recommendations and the "Babies were born to be breastfed" campaign.

Noah's six month check-up is just around the corner - but now I'm not so certain that it is a good time to stop. Yes, I want my breasts back to somewhat of a "normal" size before trying to wear summer apparel. Yes, I want to work out without worrying about leaking or souring my milk with lactic acid. And yes, I can't wait to wear a supportive bra - and sleep without wearing one. But I have some reasons to keep on keeping on. I'm happy to say that it stopped really hurting just after the three month mark. Breast milk is not only healthier but also FREE. It is also more convenient - rather than getting up in the middle of the night to prepare a bottle I can now practically doze through nursing Noah during his still very prevalent night feedings. Plus I am HOME and I have no good reason NOT to breastfeed. And then there is the bonding aspect - I alone won't be responsible for providing Noah's nourishment in such a primal mammalian level. Oh, and I can't forget to mention that when I stop nursing my period will return - and I haven't had it in over a year.

To ween or not to ween? I'm so torn. I change my mind every five seconds. I guess I'll just wait and see what the pediatrician and the OBGYN say. Or maybe I will flip a coin.

Truly a world wide web!

I was hesitant about starting a blog. I like to write so that part appealed to me but I felt the idea of writing about my life and expecting other people to read it seemed a bit self-centered and showy. I mean the blogosphere is filled with people just saying "Look at me world - I have something unique to say!" But my mind changed when I became addicted to other blogs - mommy blogs in general and Dooce.com in particular. Not only did I really feel like I started to know these women and their children - they gave me touch points on which I could compare my experience. They made me feel less alone and also to see what might be coming around the corner. Through reading about their highs and lows I could better value my own time with Noah. So I finally thought, "Why not write one too?" By writing about my days with Noah I could easily share info with family and friends who were interested and I could also preserve moments to compensate for my truly bad memory.

But it gets even better than I thought. Today I received an email from my Great Uncle Wolfgang in Germany! My Oma (Grandmother) immigrated to America when my Dad was only five so I never really got to know Oma's family. I met her brother Wolfgang only once briefly when he visited us in 1997. Recently Oma asked that I send Wolfgang a letter and some pictures to let him know how I was doing, and in the letter I included not only my email address but also my blog address. In my first email from Wolfgang he says that he enjoyed looking at the blog and even mentioned some details of my babblings in recent weeks. He said " So you’ve got at least one really interested reader from now on. Just go ahead! It’s so much better than just writing a letter now and then." And that made my day! Not only do I feel SO international (Ha!) - but also I feel fantastic to have made contact with a part of my family that I have never had the privilege to really know. So a big "Hello" to Great Uncle Wolfgang and his family - Roswitha, Elmar, Marius and Gerald! Noah, Mark and I send you our love.

Stand up and be counted

The handful of stranger comments I have received made me curious about how many people arrive on this page a day. So I finally got myself a counter. Of course now I'll probably get a bunch of spam from the counter people.

Maxin' and relaxin' at Casa de Ed.  

You have to give him SOME rope

Wasn't that weekend weather to die for? And thankfully this week is supposed to be just as exquisite.

Saturday afternoon we headed to see Uncle Ed Ford at his abode in Princeton Junction. We chatted in his back yard while eating potato chips, pizza and coca cola. Just writing that brings back my tummy ache. Noah of course stuck to oatmeal and breast milk. Smart boy. With a diet like that I should envy his figure - but somehow his thighs are even doughier than mine. His abs however are as flat as a board. The boys talked tech toys, TV and contrails while I just marveled at the sunshine. And I SWEAR Ed took more photos of Noah than we did - which is still an INSANE amount of photos. And I'm happy to report we talked to Ed about wiring Patrice's house for the dying hamster cam and he's putting together a strategy.

A major point of discussion on Saturday was our possible purchase of a new computer. It seems pretty certain that we may have to use some of our tax refund to dig in and buy a new system before the one I received while working at CDNOW bites it and leaves us dead to the modern world. Ed says the best way to go is to buy Dell. You folks got any input on that?

And like so many of our friends Ed has joined the ever-growing cult of Comcast DVR. On one hand we don't really want to spend any more money on television related expenses - however there would be a major plus to having a DVR. Judge Judy. Let me explain. We have significantly decreased the amount of television time we enjoy since we had Noah. The American Pediatric Association has recommended that children under the age of 2 not watch television and we are currently sticking to that. As a result the TV is not on during Noah's waking hours - except if we are listening to one of the Music Choice cable music channels. So we really only watch TV from 8pm until 11pm (like we can stay up that late - HA!). My husband however is missing his gal Judge Judy - the only woman he may love as much as me. And if we had the DVR we could set it up to record Judge Judy and Mark could spend time with her whenever his heart desired. The idea of taping only the things you really want to watch and watching them when YOU want is really appealing especially when you have limited TV time. Of course we can't even get it together most nights to watch something from Netflix. So who knows? It might not be worth the $10 a month. But our friends who have it rave about DVR so much that you think they were getting commission on the deal. Anyway, Saturday was lovely - lovely weather and lovely visit with Uncle Ed.

My blessed mother came to our place to baby-sit Noah yesterday afternoon so Mark and I could go to the movies. Because what else would you do on a beautifully sunny spring day other than sit in a dark theater? Well it's Philadelphia Film Fest time and in past years Mark and I have seen between 5 and 10 films each year. Along with Fringe Fest it is one of our favorite city activities, so I was feeling a little crestfallen this year when the film booklet came and it seemed obvious we weren’t going to be seeing squat. Happily my mom agreed to come to our place two Sundays in a row so Mark and I could go catch two matinees - and feel a little like our old selves. HA! When the time came yesterday for us to leave for the theater I felt like a wreck. I really didn't want to leave Noah and not because I didn't trust my mom. He hadn't taken a decent nap all morning and after Mark said Noah had a bit of a freak out last week when I went out - I was convinced he would cry the whole time we were gone and both he and my mother would be miserable. And it would be all my fault. You know what I fear the most? I know it is absolutely ridiculous - but I fear loss of Noah's trust. Like he is going to feel abandoned for that brief time and it will scar his emotional development and he'll never love me the same way. INSANITY, right? I know. Anywho - needless to say when we returned from the movie my mom said Noah was SO MUCH FUN while we were gone. He didn't fuss once. And I have to admit a weird little part of me felt disappointed. Like huh - I thought he's miss me more. WIERDO.

The movie we saw, "Mysterious Skin," was very good. But I would hesitate recommending it to anyone because it was also very disturbing. The subject matter was so emotional and so graphic that I felt physically ill by the end of the movie. It contrasted the coping mechanisms of two small town teenage boys who were sexually molested at the age of eight. And the flashbacks were seriously hardcore. I don't know how you get a child actor to perform in scenes like that - what you tell them the movie is about. The kid who played Tommy on Third Rock puts in an amazing performance as one of the teens. Patrice had said to me in the past that she couldn't handle this sort of subject matter because she was a mom and it put too many scary thoughts in her head and now I see exactly what she meant. I walked out of the theater thinking about how vigilant you have to be in order to keep your child safe.

So I guess the wrap up for this weekend has me realizing what a paranoid freakish mom I am already. I just love him so much and I don't want him to hurt. EVER. Of course this is impossible. It seems such a fine balance between protecting your child and suffocating them. I'm sure Mark will have to remind me many times over the course of Noah's life that leaving him some room to grow is not neglect - and that if I protect him from everything he will experience nothing. And that is not the kind of life I want for my baby. The best parts of my life I can attribute to throwing caution to the wind - so I have to not only let Noah do that but also encourage it as he grows. GOD this is hard work.

Special News Bulletin

You are NOT going to believe this. I was just spit up on. Not too surprising, right? I must have been spit up on a million times already, right? Right. So what makes this time so special? Well, I don't even know how to say it in a way that expresses my surprise. So I'll just have to come out with it plain and simple... Noah spit up on my FACE! Yup. The right side of my face, my glasses and my hair were all covered in clumpy regurgitated breast milk. Nice, huh? And how did this happen you might ask? Supra genius me was laying on the floor and holding Noah so he could stand on my abdomen. And then I started to lean his head towards me to give him a kiss and... BLEK! "I was repaid in puke."

Motherhood is SO very glamorous.

He'll rock your world!

The following are a few of the GAZILLION pictures I have taken to illustrate Noah's tumbling skills. And yes, I am fully aware that I am a complete dork.

These blocks should live in fear.  

Watch me bust a move... 

AHA! I got it! Soon I will RULE THE WORLD! 

Tacos, tumbling and blogs - OH MY!

Last night we had an unexpected adventure. Though it looked as if it might rain any minute, the three of us set out for a walk once Mark came home from work. The other night Kristen mentioned that it looked like there was a new taqueria open at Fifth and Thompson. I had read that the owners of Las Cazuelas were opening a taqueria and I had been looking forward to it. So Mark, Noah and I strolled (with stroller) in the direction of the new Taco Riendo. We wanted to see if it was open and to grab a menu for a possible future meal.

When we arrived at Taco Riendo I asked Mark to stay outside with the stroller while I ran in for a menu. But we both soon realized that inside was a friendly neighborhood couple we know (Mark met them while doing neighborhood canvassing for Move On) and their ten-month old son. I greeted them and they invited us in. We chatted briefly while they ate, and we ordered food to go. In their situation Dad stays home and Mom works - and that is always refreshing. Their son is adorable and definitely in the grabby can't sit still phase. He's on the verge of walking and talking - and he is proudly sporting one shiny new tooth. It's really nice meeting neighbors with infants - I fantasize about swapping babysitting and our kids growing up together. It would be so cute if they would interact - but I read the other day that children don't play interactively until the age of two. And of course while we were in the taqueria Noah sat quietly and scanned the room with saucer-sized eyes. SO much to see.

And the food - AMAZING. I had the enchiladas mole which came with black beans and rice. It was a delicious. And pretty reasonable. My entrée was a whole meal for $6. But skip the Mexican sodas if you're on a budget. They are $2.50 each.

Oh and we found out from said neighborhood couple that the former Zekas market on Girard which is now adorned with an awning that says "Taste" is to be a restaurant operated by the father of Hadar Nisimi, the owner of Aden. That too is very exciting. I really like Hadar. He worked at Il Cantuccio when it first opened and Mark and I went there often. Hadar remembers faces and was always super friendly and accommodating. And when he opened Aden we became regulars there too. Plus his sister who often hostesses at Aden was in our yoga class. They are really nice people. And of course the food at Aden is excellent. I would be willing to bet that Taste will be just as good.

Have I mentioned that Noah has become quite the gymnast? He's become very adept at seeing something out of his reach, rolling towards it, and reaching out and trying to grab it. He has gotten pretty agile at the rolling and reaching, but the grabbing needs some work. Often he bats something out of his reach several times before he actually gets it in his grasp. Practice. Practice. Practice. I have a series of photos to illustrate but I am having problems with my photo posting program.

And last but not least - blog talk. Yesterday I got my first comment from a stranger! So exciting. You can check out her blog. We wish her daughter Sophie gets well soon. I use the next blog function in blogspot all the time, but I never comment. But as I was next blogging yesterday I ran into this blog. Inspired by my first stranger comment and because she had a post requesting that next blog visitors leave her a comment - I did. And she was as pleased to get her first stranger comment as I was to get mine. Pay it forward. (And no, Jon, not the Haley Joel Osment movie, just the idea that spawned the movie. Though I do often see dead bloggers.)

Not cute because they are little

Today is the second day I have had the back door open. And already my kitchen is being taken over by ants. Sneaky little bastards are everywhere. They are staging a coup. So in a rash move I started spraying the crap out of them with ant poison. Now I have visions of Noah and the cats lapping up poisonous dead ants. And the fumes! What about the fumes?

It is not fair that city people have to contend with ants, or bugs of any kind. Don't those stupid ants know they'd be alot happier in some field somewhere. They could have their own lovely ant hill and not bother walking along the perimeter of my kitchen cabinets. City people have different nuissances like litter, drunk passerbys, and bus routes to name a few. We don't need no stinkin' ants!

Girard Avenue is loud. It has always been loud.And generally I enjoy being part of a vital thoroughfare. Noah and I have already taken to sitting on our front step and watching the people go by - just like our neighbors. But with the windows open and an infant napping - Girard is possibly the loudest place on earth. Just wait til they start building those new houses right out our front door. I might have to buy Noah one of those sound-proof chambers. Or at the very least an ant-proof one.

Happy jumpin' fun for all! 

On the road again

After months of stockpiling provisions, planning a fortuitous route and waiting for the weather to break, Noah and I set out yesterday on an expedition to see Ms. Janette in Reading. Noah slept in the car for most of both trips and the weather was divine. After Ms. Janette served us a lovely tea we went for a walk to the Schmoyers bakery. Yes, Schmoyers. I don't think you can get more Pennsylvania Dutch than that. I bought a raisin bread and apple dumplings. Then we walked up the hill to tackle the swings on the playground. Noah did some swinging - courtesy of being strapped to me in the Bjorn. And then back to the Cathedral de Hough-Fertig to eat said apple dumplings. It was a lovely afternoon of conversation and sunshine.

Unfortunately for Mr. Mark, the only nap time Noah had yesterday was in the car and together that accounted for only an hour and a half of sleeping rather than his three to four hours of normal nap time. And then last night I left the overly tired Noah with Mark when Patti, Kristin and I went to the Tap for a couple hours of burgers and beers. It was a great time and I barely worried about the Eggerts boys. After we returned to the house and I showed former Literacy Interns Patti and Kristin my growing collection of children's literature (only they can get as excited about "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs" as I can), Mark told me Noah had had a "little freak out." I was feeling so guilty for leaving while Mark described Noah's general discontent and crying fit. I was convinced that Noah was miserable because I had overtired him during the day and then he became more upset because I wasn't home. I felt bad for them both. I didn't want either of them to have a bad night. But Mark was right. He's Noah's father. He can take care of Noah when he fusses too. And it wasn't the whole time I was gone. Just a brief episode. I just wish it had gone better for them. Maybe next time.

In my first attempts to address the problems of Penn Treaty Park I wrote an email to the editor of one of our local papers describing my experience the other day and telling her it would be great if the newspaper would do some stories that would champion the reclamation of the park. I am happy to say that she wrote back to me saying she really liked the idea and intended on getting to work on it. Yippee!

Today will be just a normal quiet day with the possibility a brief stroller expedition. Noah and I both need to catch up on our naps. Yawn.

What would Willy Penn and the Indians think?

It is absolutely gorgeous outside. Spring seems to have sprung - and I for one could not be happier about it. The warm weather makes me so happy - I could sing. And I have. Lucky for you that you don't have to hear it.

Master Noah and I went on an afternoon stroll to Penn Treaty park and back. I wanted to take the boy out so he could enjoy the warm weather and take in a bit of the world. Of course he feel asleep in the stroller after a few minutes of our hour long adventure. Silly boy.

Unfortunately my trip was also a bit sad. There are two parks within a short distance of our home. Liberty Lands Park is lovely. It's owned and maintained by a Northern Liberties neighborhood group. I'm sure today it was teeming with earthy moms and precocious tots taking in the rays and playing on the equipment. However in the stroller I thought it best to head to Penn Treaty Park. It's on the river and has paved paths perfect for bikes and strollers. Penn Treaty is owned by the city and they do almost nothing to maintain it. It's covered in trash, flooded from the rain, and generally in disrepair. The location of the park is unfortunate in a way - it's cut off from the neighborhood by 95 and Delaware Avenue and is therefore almost forgotten. On the south side of the park was a BBQ joint that had at one time been a nightclub. Club Maui I think. I guess the BBQ place didn't do any business because it appears to be closed. How could I tell? A good number of the windows had had things thrown threw them - and the place was covered in graffiti. It is obvious that kids, dare I say hooligans, hang in this park and are intent on destroying any chance it has of being any place where families would congregate regularly. I was hopeful for a moment when I saw there were about twenty people at the end of park in white jump suits doing some sort of cleanup. I asked someone I passed if they were repairing the pier at the end of the park. The man told me that they were there cleaning the rocks that line the river - apparently they were still covered from the spill that happened so many months ago. It seems pointless when the rest of the Park is in such a state. Last year Mark and I went to one meeting of a Friends of Penn Treaty Park group that was forming. The police officer who was organizing it took our names and numbers and talked about a lot of big plans - but nothing ever came of it. He never contacted us again about a second meeting. It's such a shame. It's such a great place for a park - on the river with a great view of the Philly skyline. I would love to go there regularly with Noah. I guess I should probably find out what I can do - so I feel like I have done my part to salvage the Penn Treaty's potential.

Still very fresh

Noah is 5 months old today!

Whew. It was a busy weekend. A very grey, very rainy busy weekend.

On Saturday Ms. Patrice and Ms. Bella joined us for an excursion to the Troc for Janette's coed bar baby shower. It was a hectic day filled to the brim with misadventure - but we'll leave that story for Patrice because she got the brunt of it and she excels in relating those sort of wacky hijinks. Of course Janette was late for her own baby shower. I love Janette but her lateness is to be counted on. And if there is any justice in the world her baby won't appear until well after her May 25 due date.

Despite the rain, puddles, spilled drinks etc... Noah was well behaved so I chalk it up as a good day. I'm always paranoid that he will scream uncontrollably while I'm out in public and people will look down their noses, give us disapproving glares and whisper about what a bad mother I appear to be. This of course has not yet happened, but it could some day. So I worry about it any time I step out the door. God. I'm such a case... Anywho, on the upside when he is good out in public, as he almost always is, I am just so happy and thankful no matter what else goes on in the course of the day. And it was a nice night because Patrice and Ms. Bella stayed for dinner. I love having guests. Especially low maintenance ones. And EX-specially Patrice. And extra EX-specially Bella.

Yesterday we went to my mom's place for dinner and my Grandmother and Aunt Jill stopped by to see the Schmoah. It wasn't a special occasion or anything, just a nice visit. My mom likes to try to see her quickly growing grandson every weekend and since she is coming up the next two Sundays to baby-sit so that Mark and I can see Philadelphia Film Fest screenings, the long drive was ours this time. Plus Mark and I got pot roast and apple pie out of the deal. Yum.

My mom got me a couple of pairs of jeans that I LOVE. They almost make me feel normal sized when I wear them. No - they aren't magic jeans. At least I don't think so.

I was a bit concerned that over the course of the busy weekend Noah forgot how to take a proper long nap. Our non-blinking baby becomes too enthralled with the world to ever consider taking a lengthy nap when he's not at home. We'll see how he fares today. I know I could use a very long nap. In a completely dark room. With no distractions, no thoughts and no interruptions. And if I could wake up naturally when *I* was done sleeping - well that would be orgasmic. Of course this will never happen because though Mark often offers to take Noah away so that I can take a long nap, as soon as they leave my presence all I can think of is what they are doing without me and what I might be missing, and then I can't sleep very long at all.

And a word about the word "spoiled." I HATE it when used in regards to children. "Spoiled" means that something has gone bad irrevocably. It's ruined and it can't be fixed. You should just throw it away. This should never be used when describing a child. I'm a bit sensitive about this because as a child I was constantly called "spoiled" by my family. Even my mom called me "spoiled" and she was supposedly the one doing the spoiling. And in my family's defense they didn't necessarily mean it as a criticism most of the time. They merely meant that my mom was very vigilant about doing all she could for me. As she still does, bless her. And so it is with me and Noah. But please don’t' call him "spoiled." He might be indulged, fussed over, coddled - but he has not irrevocably gone bad. Not yet anyway.

Noah thought Patrice was getting a bit lippy. 

He's on the GROW

The thing with these infants is that they always have new tricks up their sleeves. Just when you think you know them, when you have their rap down, they up and flip yo ass. And so it is with Master Noah. Here are some of his recent accomplishments. Don't get too attached - tomorrow it might be completely different.

1. GGGGGG- G unit. As of this week Noah is the G man. He's finally added a consonant sound to his repetoire of assorted dolphin noises. And the gurgling "GaGaGaGa" can be used to express any emotion from euphoria to discontent.

2. Jump Around. My mom bought us a Jumperoo for Christmas. It's a safer version of those door harnessed jumpers that we all had when we were kids. Prior to yesterday he just sort of hung in it and I'd bounce his lazy butt. But yesterday he made a revelation. He began flailing his arms and legs as if he were trying to run for his life - but his legs kept slipping out from under him and he go bouncing back. It's HYSTERICAL! I wouldn't dare call it jumping. It looks more like a seizure. But oh how I laugh.

3. Recylcing. So our new favorite toy is not expensive. It's not brightly colored. It's not made by First Years, Graco or Carters. It's made by the fine folks at Poland Springs. My boy seems to like nothing more than an empty water bottle.

4. Pokey. I'm not entirely sure, but I think Schmoah may already be studying to be a dermatologist. He just loves to take his tiny, slobbery soft fingers and run them over my face. He noodles them over my chin, my lips, my nose, and OW! That's my eye. On Easter Sunday he started fussing in the car so I leaned into the carseat and just let him poke at me until he fell asleep.

5. Pig. Have I mentioned he eats anything? Today's new food was prunes. He sucked that crap down without even tasting it. Which leads me to the following:

6. Motility. For awhile there Noah was unwilling to free the solids he's been digesting. It would go three days, and while I was once again discussing with Mark if we should call the doctor about it, he would finally set the troops on the march. But luckily he has now gone several days in a row with normal bowel exercise. Hopefully it just took his body a little while to figure out how to process this stuff - but now everything will be as right as rain.

7. Temper, temper. Last night Noah was hungry. He was tired. And Mom and Dad wanted to eat their spinach ravioli before they fed him his oatmeal and pears. This is LUNACY. This is INJUSTICE. This is CHILD ABUSE. The Master threw his toy on the ground, spit out his pacifier and yelled at us. "GGGGGAAAAHHH!" Mark just gave him back his toy, replaced his bink and went about eating. Master Noah repeated his threats through our meal, until it was his turn to eat. "GGGGGAAAAHHH! I tell you. GGGGGAAAAHHH!"

8. More sunshine too. He smiles more. He plays more. He giggles more. But what drives me insane is that he's often too shy around strangers and too wrapped up in the chaos and glory of the world outside our house to ever do it for anyone but us. Perform, damn you, perform!!

And I'm sure there is more. But that's what I got today. And you thought you couldn't go one more second without hearing about my baby's bowels.

Wanted: Gluey shoes

Yesterday Noah and I made a solo trip to the mall. I wanted to go to Plymouth Meeting to check out H&M's baby clothes and the family restroom. For the most part our trip was successful. There was only one ten minute period where I felt exhausted, exasperated and moronic for attempting to go to the mall alone. I'm sure that is the time period you'd most like to hear about. I'll take you there.

I'm hungry because I haven't eaten any lunch. I decide to peruse the food court. Up until now Noah has been staring slack-jawed at the sights and sounds of commerce from the safety of the Bjorn. I order a six inch veggie delight meal from Subway. We sit down at a low wooden table surrounded by benches - more living room decor than food court. I start chomping away and Noah is watching the carousel. All the sudden he lets out a tortured wail. He's crying hysterically. It was idiotic hubris to think I could actual sit STILL and eat. I'm trying to get him out of the Bjorn. But the damn buttons are stuck. I can't get him out. I'm pushing and tugging, getting red in the face, and he's crying. I finally get him out and while I try to calm him down the snaps on my nursing bra pop open (for the millionth freakin' time!). After several different positions I decide the best way to calm him down is to take him to the bathroom, change him and nurse him. But the problem is that now I'm holding him with my hands - and my purse, my shopping bag, my lunch and the Bjorn are scattered about. I try to gather things with one hand but it's a no go. So I set him on the wood seat to gather things up - and I'm so worried he's going to pick now as the best time to roll. Once I get everything together I make a dash for the food court bathroom. When I get there not only do I realize that this is not the nursing bathroom I have heard tale of, but also I realize that in the path from the table to the bathroom Noah has lost a shoe. His new adorable shoes. I abandon my soda which I bought for the caffeine but haven't had one sip of and we start to backtrack. So he's still whimpering, I'm trying to hold all the crap and him, and I'm perusing the floor. Luckily another mother comes to our aid. Bless her. In the minute and a half from the time it fell off his foot until the time I started looking for it - someone picked the shoe up off the floor and just set it atop one of the counters. This of course made it harder to find because I'm looking on the floor. But soon we find the shoe. And all the action and hubbub has quieted Noah - we are back on the move and that makes him happy. The fiasco ends as I find the family restroom and diaper and feed our hero before returning to shopping.

The rest of the trip was fine, but I might think twice about going it alone again. It would have been a million times easier with another set of hands. Oh - and I wasn't that impressed with the family restroom (dirty and smelled like piss) or the H&M (nothing decent on sale). But Noah scored a few items of clearance clothing at Children's Place and Baby Gap.

After the mall adventure we went to Qtown to visit Super Oma and Grandpa Joe. My Dad asked if I wanted him to cook or if we should go out for dinner. After an already busy day I thought it best we stay in. Plus Dad is a good cook! For the first time I saw signs that Noah might be a little too attached to me. When Oma and Dad tried to hold him for longer than a minute or two he would start to fuss. And he would calm down as soon as I took him. It might have partly been because he was sleepy from being short on his typical naps. But he definitely didn't want to me to be out of sight or even out of reach. In a way that feels nice, in another way it's a concern. For the most part the kid sees me all day every day, you'd think he'd want a break. "Hey lady, don't you got no place to go?"

And all the driving? Yesterday it was a piece of pie. He slept through it all. Even when I had to get off the Blue Route at Norristown and fill up because I was worried I was going to run out of gas. But we finally made it home. And Mark was almost as happy to see us as we were to see him.

Dear Ndugu

My Oma called last week to ask that I gather some pictures to send to her brother Wolfgang in Germany. I met my Great Uncle Wolfgang once about eight years ago and I think our encounter was about an hour long. Oma said when she was speaking to Wolfgang recently about Noah that he expressed interest in photos of my family. She also requested I write him a brief letter to let him know what I have been up to since our meeting. So... how do you encapsulate the last eight years of your life?

So here is a brief summation of my brief summation. Bought a house in beginning of 2001. Got married Fall of 2002. Had baby Fall of 2004. Very excited to be parents of happy, healthy boy. Was working in medical publishing. Now staying home. Husband works in advertising and PR for local university. Enjoy living in the city.

That's my life in a nutshell. I'm a homeowner, wife and mother. It makes me sound so grown-up. I rarely feel old because I typically feel like I'm still some dumb kid without any direction. But it turns out I have fashioned a real life for myself. And it's a really happy one - filled with the love of family, friends, my husband and my baby. I feel so proud.

Of course the photos I am sending of myself are pre-pregnancy. That is definitely something I need to continue working on. But everything else is pretty damn good.

I'm a big boy chillin' in my big boy pants. 

From Famine to Feast

Just a few weeks ago I was concerned that Noah was too skinny. His weight gain between his one-month check-up and three-month check-up was minimal. Was he starving? Did he have worms? I felt like I was breastfeeding constantly. But where was it all going? Surely something was wrong with the boy.

The Doc assured us that there was nothing to worry about. Obviously she doesn’t know us very well. There is always SOMETHING to worry about. She said that he was healthy and his weight would catch up. I was doubtful. Of course.

In the last month Noah has been enjoying solids. And I do mean ENJOYING. He has gleefully sucked down everything he has been fed - rice cereal, bananas, sweet potatoes, pears, apples, and oatmeal. And at the end of every serving he cries. It's never enough. I think he'd eat until it started coming out of his ears. And as a result, malnutrition is no longer a worry. In fact he's starting to get down right chubby. And just like his poor mom, he first exhibits weight gain by growing many more chins. And his thighs are down right doughy. If his already voracious appetite is any indication of his future zeal for food we'll definitely need to keep this boy active. Luckily his Dad can eat like a Hoover and stay pretty thin. I hope all our children inherit that. Is it to late for me to inherit it?

Sick on Jelly Beans

It was a lovely Easter despite Noah being too damn slow for a proper egg hunt.

We went to Mark's father Martin's apartment for dinner. They also hosted Martin's new wife Sylvia's daughter and her husband who were visiting from Toronto, and Sylvia's son and his two teenage daughters who were visiting from Montreal. Oh, and of course Grandma Laima.

Martin had said that it would be a "light" meal because Sylvia had been entertaining her family for the last few days. Considering that Sylvia cooks enough for ten men whenever just Mark and I come to dinner, I was sure there would be plenty to eat. She cooked beef stew, chicken curry and salmon for main dishes and then many assorted vegetables. There was nothing light about it. She apologized to me for making curry for Easter and I told her she could make curry for any holiday as far as I was concerned.

This was the first time we were meeting Sylvia's family so the afternoon started off with a lot of awkward "So... What is it you do?... And you live where?.. That sounds lovely..." But they were really lovely people. And thank God on his holiest of holy days for Mad Libs - they kept the teens busy and provided the glue that now bonds us all together.

The most notable moments of the afternoon were all provided by the sassy 95 yo Laima. When Mark, Noah and I picked her up she told me I looked really good - which left me glowing about my progressing weight loss. A minute later she announced that her eyes were now completely shot and she was virtually blind. Ha! But we all got our come-uppance. She told the 13 year old she didn't smile enough and the 15 year old what she could do to lose weight. And then she initiated an online shopping search after announcing that her signature scent "Scoundrel" was discontinued. She always puts on a great show. And hell, if any of us makes it to our nineties we shouldn't have to mince words.

Oh, and Noah was there too. He was really incredibly behaved again. He's changing from a mewling infant to a wonderful little boy. He was playful, chatty and charming. I might keep him yet.

Dressed for an Easter golfing excursion.  

A Bardnt Shopping Extravaganza!

Noah had a big consumer adventure yesterday at the Willow Grove Mall. And he was an ANGEL. My God - I could not believe how well behaved he was. He bopped about in the Bjorn quietly staring at everything in his path until he nodded off. Then he awoke refreshed and continued to enjoy the sights and sounds of cha-ching. And the boy came home with a stunning outfit suitable for a golfing expedition, rad shades, hunter green loafer boots, and a bucket hat for our summer beach trip. Not to mention stories of shopping with three generations of Barndt women. How did he survive? Many thanks to his Meemaw and GG for a lovely afternoon.

I never did check out the family restroom. Instead I changed and nursed him in the luxurious accommodations of a Macy's fitting room. I can't believe it didn't occur to me before that there are tons of private places to nurse a baby at the mall.

Because he was so adorable and calm during our long shopping expedition, I can't complain too much about the calamitous drive home. He was very distraught to be locked in the damn seat for another hour - but once we returned home to Dad he was all smiles.

As if yesterdays shopping wasn't enough, Mark, Noah and I headed to Walmart this morning. We left the house at 8 am. Yup. You heard me - 8 AM!!! Since we were up at 5:45 am, we thought it'd be great to get in there early and avoid the zany atmosphere of our local ghetto Walmart. It was our most pleasurable Delaware Avenue Walmart shopping experience. But I still can't believe that on a Saturday we left the house before 8 am and returned at 9 am. Who am I again? It's amazing. Luckily we made up for it by taking a family nap from 10 am to noon. Oh how I've come to appreciate a good nap. Especially when I can share it with the men I love.

Noah will be thrilled tomorrow to celebrate an Eggerts family Easter. We look forward to seeing more family but unfortunately the day involves between three and four hours of driving. Yippee! I have started saving up to buy a helicopter. Let me know if you see a good price on a used one.

Aunt Jess is great with Baby Noah.  

Little time for Jenga

We've been MIA because we had company. My ten year old sister Jessica came to spend part of her spring break with us. The whole time she was here I was feeling a tad guilty because we couldn't really focus just on her as I would have in the past. We spent almost her entire time playing with the baby. She and I would try to play a game of cards or Jenga while Noah was sleeping, but I also needed to do the dishes, get dinner ready, and start a load of laundry. On the trip to drive her home I apologized for her visit not being all that thrilling. She said she had a good time. I promised her that next time she came Mark would watch the baby for awhile and just her and I could go to dinner, skating or the movies. She seemed pleased with that.

I'm feeling a bit better because the weight is coming off slowly but surely. It took nine months to put it on, so I should give myself nine months to take it off. Right? And what a huge amount of weight it was. The other day I saw myself right after returning from the hospital on a home movie. MY GOD! I knew I was big but not THAT big. But it shouldn't be that surprising. Not only was my pregnancy voracious, but I also packed on the pounds because I quit smoking. I'm happy to say that I 've lost 50 pounds since giving birth but unhappy to say I have about 20 more to lose. And that won't get me back to my former ideal weight - the one I had on my wedding day. I just want to return to the weight I was right before I got pregnant - after I had already gained some weight because I was depressed about my apparent inability to get pregnant. Go figure. I think my former ideal weight is not attainable for me anymore, so I set a new one. I'm now an aging former-smoker mom. Let's be realistic. I just want to feel better in my own skin. All my stretch marked skin.

Noah is getting better at sitting up with support. He's also giggling more. And I swear he made a "D" sound this morning. This afternoon we are off to the mall to meet Meemaw and GG (I didn't pick those names) for lunch and some shopping. Hopefully he'll be on his best behavior. It's a big trip - long drive, lunch and then walking around the mall. Luckily the Willow Grove Mall has a family restroom for nursing and changing.

I've said it before and I'll say it again - my mom is an overly generous angel and I don't know what we would do without her. She called me on her way to Costco yesterday to ask me what groceries we needed. I told her I was uncomfortable telling her what to buy us. It just seems so entitled and wrong. But she said that she didn't get to stay home with me long when I was a baby because she had to go back to work. But that she was glad I was staying home with Noah and she wanted to help us out. What do you say in response to that? Thank you never seems enough. I just keep telling myself that I will pay it forward - be just as generous with my kids.

The Little Music Man

Music plays a big part in our life at Maison Noah. We listen to a lot of The Beatles. It's important to get the kid interested in the basics and work out from there. Plus for some sadistic reason the boy actually likes me to sing to him and The Beatles catalog is great fun f or me to sing along. We have "Please Please Me," "Revolver," "Rubber Soul," "Magical Mystery Tour," and even "1" in heavy rotation. We also enjoy the cable Music Choice channels. Party Favorites plays an odd assortment of every song you might hear at a wedding DJed by the Pros. Even if you hate the songs I guarantee you can sing along. We also enjoy Retroactive and Light Classical - but we might need to branch out soon as the playlists have grown tiring. And of course we have some Baby Einstein and Baby Genius CDs - because no one would buy a CD promising to give their child subpar intelligence.

This weekend my mom brought Noah two new CDs by Fisher Price - "Dance, Baby, Dance" and "Baby Boogie." I was a bit worried when I first saw them - assuming it would be earth shatteringly horrible, as much music designed for babies often is. It isn't half bad. Actually I have to admit I've been enjoying them though Noah barely pays them mind. They are in fact instrumental dance remixes of songs like "Mary Had a Little Lamb," "Hush, Little Baby" and "The Itsy Bitsy Spider." I never quite imagined enjoying a cheesy techno version of "Baa Baa Black Sheep," but damn - it's pretty bumpin'.

Yesterday Noah received the LeapStart Learning Table from Mark's friend Steve and his family. Right now it's a bit too advanced for the boy, but that didn't stop Mark and I from taking it out of the box and spending at least a half hour playing with it ourselves. It uses music to teach a bunch of skills not unlike how to start a dotcom and how to file for bankruptcy. But thanks to last nights tutorial Mark and I now know our alphabet and how to scat.

Babies face off head to head in BABY WARS on Fox Fridays.  

Rock-n-Shop

It was another late night grocery shopping trip on Friday night for me. I think they should blare the music and turn on strobes to make it Rock-n-Shop after 8pm. And if I could wear roller skates, all the better.

Saturday we trekked to Ldale for Noah's date with Ms. Bella. She is getting SO big and increasingly more enchanting. Her and Noah went head to head. Photos to be added later. And of course because Patrice was intent on seeing Noah roll over, he never did it. Though I can't get the kid to stop at home. Figures. It would be so much cooler if babies operated like trained seals. Then to the LDale Ross where we bought Noah a very cute "nerd outfit" as Mark termed it. It consists of khakis, a lime green sleeveless knit vest with navy trim, and a grid checked short sleeve button up shirt. It merely lacks a pocket protector. Accountants - not so cute. Infants dressed up as accountants - cute to the point of insanity. After Noah went to bed we opened a bottle of wine and started watching Ladykillers. I was so tired that I couldn't finish one glass or watch even a smidgen of the movie. Mark had to wake me up to go to bed.

On Sunday my mother came and gave Mark and I a respite at Silk City. And while we were out Noah was introduced to the wacky world of pears. And after bedtime for Noah, it was all about the HBO lineup.

And of course there were tons of smiling, cooing and kisses. My mom once said to me that she was at her happiest when she saw me happy. And I once heard said that the best compliment you could ever get was that you raised a great kid. Raising children isn't all sunshine and roses, it requires a lot of sacrifice. But for my life I have decided it will bring with it the greatest and most long lasting rewards. So bring on the hip Friday nights at Super Fresh pricing diapers - they are the stuff that my dreams are made of.

It's Oh So Quiet

During the day the house can be so quiet. I decided after being home a few weeks that I was no longer going to watch any TV during the day. There isn't anything worthwhile on and I was wasting my time and my attention on it. But growing up we always had the TV on. And when I moved out on my own I would sleep with it on. I have often used TV for noise, for company. So it really has been an adjustment to just listen to some music or even operate with no noise but me, Noah and the Philadelphia street out our door. And part of me has grown to enjoy the silence in a way I never was before. Especially during nap time. And luckily Noah is in bed just in time for primetime - so my TV junkie ass doesn't miss Survivor, Amazing Race, or Deadwood. Ah, the best of both worlds.

Apparently in addition to fulfilling the infant sucking instinct, pacifiers are hella fun too. Noah's new trick is plucking the pacifier out of his mouth, passing it from hand to hand, staring at it, and trying, unsuccessfully thus far, to put it back in his mouth. You would not believe the amount of time he can spend just gazing at that thing. Like it was the Taj Majal.

Thank God for his easy smiles. They get me through.

I can't move, dammit!

Now that Noah can roll from his back to his stomach, he wants to do nothing but that. And once on his stomach he kicks his legs and flails his arms. He's puts all his energy and concentration into trying to move forward. Of course he isn't going anywhere and that is very frustrating. I know I'd be pissed off. So he grunts and flails for awhile and then he whines and cries. I then flip him back on his back and he literally yells at me. As if to say "MOM! I'm not going to get anywhere on my back!!" And then he flips back on to his stomach again to start it from the top. This is very frustrating for me too because I want to make him smile, to play with his little limbs, to watch him bat blissfully at the play gym- but all he wants to do is flail and bitch. Oh and eat. He still LOVES the eating. Sweet potatoes were a big hit.

I told my mom about Noah's determination and frustration. She said she clearly remembered me being frustrated and bored as an infant because I couldn't do anything. Funny, now I look forward to a chance to do nothing.

What if he tells me to shut up?

Noah was awake from 3am to 4:30am last night. Yawn. It's going to be a long day.

Have you heard about this baby sign language thing? Apparently babies are intellectually capable of expressing themselves prior to fully developing their verbal capabilities. So you can teach your child some basic signs so that they communicate to you their wants and needs earlier. They can learn signs for milk, more, hurt, bed, etc. They say as a result the children are a lot happier - less frustrated that they can't communicate. I am loving this idea so much that I already bought an instructional book and video. Of course kids can't really learn hand signals prior to nine months so I've got awhile to wait. But I really hope that I follow through with it.

We also joined the Children's Book of the Month Club. It's like Columbia House but with kids books. Of course at this point it's just for me. I ordered a bunch of award winning picture books to read to Noah - for more variety in my reading selections. I could have ordered him some easy board books to chew on and learn the alphabet - but instead I really wanted "Where the Wild Things Are." We'll get his books later.

I think today we may try sweet potatoes! Unfortunately not sweet potato fries from Silk City - but instead orangey mush. I'll let you know how that goes - because I know you are just dying to know.

Did I mention that I have a baby? A son. His name's Noah. He's four and half months old. Hadn't I mentioned it before? Oops. Must have forgotten all about it.

Pardon me, are you playing with that? 

The mat pretty much explains it. 

I'll just put these scissors right HERE

Time to batten down the hatches. Noah is on the move!

Noah had rolled over a handful of times in the past, but they seemed like flukes and he always seemed really surprised when it happened. Yesterday afternoon when I was enjoying floor time with the monkey he became very focused on rolling. For a half hour he repeatedly curled up his legs, pulled in his arms and threw his weight to the side. And when he succeeded in landing on his stomach he then very purposefully hoisted himself up on his arms and tried to throw his weight to the side so he could roll back over. It was as if he had employed himself a Russian Olympic coach who was pushing him for the Gold. And he did the same thing last night before bedtime. Mark and I were just dumbfounded by his determination.

This morning I laid him on the office floor to tackle one of his play gyms and then I turned to the computer to check my email. I soon heard Noah grunting. I turned to see him on his stomach a couple of inches away from where I left him and turned in a different direction. And laying on the floor a foot from him was a pair of scissors. I can never find a scissors when I want one, and apparently it's because we leave them laying all over the floor. Now storing sharp and dangerous things in the middle of the floor is a thing of the past. We might even have to put things away in drawers!

Don't feed a hungry child?

I don't give Noah enough credit. On the very few occasions we have taken him out into the world I have felt panicked the entire time. I'm absolutely stressed out that he is going to start crying inconsolably. People will be staring, pointing and complaining that I obviously don't know how to calm my child. And I'll be too busy having a nervous breakdown to get it together enough to even make an attempt. This is a ridiculous scenario because not only has Noah never cried inconsolably, but every time we have taken him out into the world he has just stared wide eyed at all the chaos with his mouth hanging open. So I really need to give the boy a break and expect better from him.

Eating solid food has a TREMENDOUS impact on diaper contents. My God. I've never seen anything quite like that before. 'Nuff said.

Yesterday we did something that I'm sure was truly futile. We made Noah a schedule. Both his pediatrician and our First Year book said that by now he should be transitioning into two longer naps from three. And the book said that there should be a four hour gap between his second nap and bedtime. Based on that info and the fact that during the night he typically sleeps from roughly 8pm until 6 am, we penciled in a daily schedule with a two hour nap at 9 and a second two hour nap at 2. We even went so far as to include times for his feedings and possible bath times. There is no way in hell that he's going to follow it at this point, but I like to have something to aim for.

Of course sleeping at night still isn't 't perfect. It's been getting progressively better, but when I called the pediatrician about it this morning she said she isn't convinced that his problem is reflux related. She doesn't want to up his dosage any further because it is getting high for his weight, so she made some other suggestions. When he wakes up at 1:30 am and wants to be fed, she suggested I don't feed him. That's right - don't feed him. WHAT? I'm supposed to try to settle him back to sleep without feeding him. Also she suggested that during the day that I start trying to put him down for a nap when he seems sleepy but before he has fallen asleep. She said he needs to learn to soothe himself to sleep and that this too will help him in the night. I'm so tired right now. And I think making these changes will make things worse for the time being, but hopefully in the long term it'll get better. Yawn.

Noah's new toy! 

Our home is your bar

I miss going out, and I don't. Let me explain. While I am a bit nostalgic for the freedom of Mark and I to decide to go out for Thai food at the drop of a hat, I do not really miss hanging out at the bar. Mark and I weren't exactly party animals, but we did like to go to the bar with friends fairly regularly. We'd have a few drinks, get a light buzz, chat with friends, and have a late night. I honestly feel "over it" in a way that I would never have anticipated. I miss friends, but not the locale. My ideal right now is to have friends drop over at our place for a few hours and drink a glass or two of wine - all while spending time with my son. My feeling is that our real friends, our closest friends, are just as interested in him as us. This isn't to say that I might not like to go out every once in a while and have a drink at the pub with friends, I just don't miss it being a regular part of my life. I am content having it be a special treat, a departure from the norm. This REALLY surprises me. When anticipating being parents I thought that sacrificing our nightlife would be one of the hardest parts. But now that I'm here, I'd rather be with loved ones - with my baby, with my husband, and with my friends who are excited to spend private time with us as a family. That said I have to admit that I am dying for a cheeseburger from the Standard Tap.

Yesterday was a perfect example of my ideal - we had lots of friends come to visit us and spend time with Master Noah too. Jen and Mark stopped by in the afternoon - and brought with them amazingly delicious cookies from a bakery in Rittenhouse. We ordered a pizza and caught up while Noah chilled out. As they were departing Noah's honorary Aunt Tracey came to visit. Tracey has visited us more than any other friend and it really touches me how interested she is in spending time with Noah. Then Mark's friend Tim came to visit from far away Hoboken. We all enjoyed watching Noah voraciously eat rice cereal and bananas, all the while smiling for the company and putting on a good floor show. Then Tim took Mark out for a couple of beers at Johnny Brenda's while Tracey and I talked and had a few drinks at the house. Noah was a perfect gentleman and prompt about meeting his 8pm bedtime - though I know Tracey would have loved for him to stay awake a little bit longer for extra cuddling time. It was a lovely evening - more lovely than just getting tipsy for the millionth time at the local watering hole. Who knew?

Of course I have to become a better host and have some snacks out on the table when people visit. I'm appalled at how badly I shirked my hosting duties. If you ever stop over - don't be shy about going into the pantry and fishing out some pretzels or something if you're hungry. Help yourself. Mi casa su casa. Just don't drink the breastmilk in the fridge - that stuff is like liquid gold.

When my parents were young, people had kids younger and all around the same time. So everyone was in the same boat. New parents all lived in the neighborhood they grew up in and just brought the little ones to each others homes. They got to socialize while the kids hung out and played together. Though I am certainly glad to have had so many life experiences prior to having children, part of me is nostalgic for that sort of setup. Happily since Patrice and Janette are both new mothers/mothers-to-be we can get together like that every once in awhile, it's just that they live so damn far away. I want them to move on our block.

Noah is famished! 

So fresh and so clean, clean

My boy is back to the bowl! After another cereal free day and restless night, Noah is permitted to return to the joys that are rice cereal. It seems reflux has once again reared its ugly head and Noah will have to get his Zantac dosage increased. Infant reflux is not the same as adult reflux - it is the result of an esophageal muscle not being fully matured - and therefore hopefully in the near future he will no longer need to be medicated. Infant reflux normally resolves by the age of one. Until then his dosage will need to increased incrementally as his symptoms reappear as his weight increases.

So, I'm not the cleanest person in the world. I believe things belong in their place for the most part and I do a lot of straightening and putting things away, but I do not accel in the arts of dusting, vacuuming and polishing. I keep fixating on the fact that this will have to change when Noah can move about of his own accord. I don't want him dining on dust bunnies he hunted from under the sofa. I warn myself that I will have to become a neat freak and become diligent about absolute cleanliness. This seems impossible and frightening. But then I try to reassure my inner worry wart that no one ever said their childhood was happy because their house was clean. People don't say "I'm a caring, intelligent, well-adjusted human being because my mother vacuumed every day" or "John Smith would have been an upstanding citizen rather than a serial killer had his mother just mopped more often." Do they?

My baby is such a baby!

Most likely the stupidest thing ever said to a four-month-old child is "Stop acting like such a baby." And yet, I said it yesterday. Noah was sitting in his Papasan and whining to be picked up while I tried to finish doing the dishes. I kept telling him to just sit tight two more minutes and I'd pick him up, but he just kept getting louder and more plaintive. So I told him to stop acting like a baby. At which point he unhooked himself from the papasan, jumped down from the countertops, told me he'd catch me later, threw on a blazer, and went to the corner store for smokes.

In order to entertain and verbalize my child I have made most of my inner monologue during the day an outer dialogue with a silent partner. This could have horrible repercussions as I feel the need to say everything that goes through my head out loud. I had problems with that before, but now it is probably magnified ten-fold. I'm also obviously starved for conversation. My sister called today and though she tried to end the conversation like five times, I just kept talking and asking questions. Last month when I got my hair cut by a new stylist I left with the very real feeling that the woman was going to be like "JESUS! That woman never shut up!"

So I'm sure you are all (Patrice) chomping at the bit to know how Noah slept last night in light of our rice cereal vs. reflux sleep study. Well, it seems obvious that reflux is the cause. He started showing signs that he needed his dosage increased yesterday afternoon before his 2pm dose. And he still shuffled a lot last night despite not having the rice cereal. He slept a little better though because I sat more upright with him - all the more relaxing for me. But still no cereal today for Master Noah as we want to make absolutely sure that the reflux is the culprit. And we must be empirical about our evidence.

I emailed with Ms. Janette yesterday. She is due to birth her first baby on 5/25. I can't wait to see the baby whose sex is still a mystery. But either way it will most likely be pinky pale and freckly with a shock of curly orange fuzz on its head - not to mention as full of magic and wonder as Ms. Janette herself. I was shocked and appalled to hear that her iron-pumping male OBGYN has been harping on her prenatal weight gain. What an arse! I gained 70 pounds during my pregnancy and my doctor did not say a word. She knew better. I told Ms. Janette to tell her doctor that if he was so concerned with prenatal weight gain than she could tell him when he's gaining to much weight during his pregnancy but until that time comes he should keep his trap shut. Ridiculous. Janette looks healthy and luminescent. I wish she didn't live in the far off burbs of Reading or that one of us had a helicopter. Since she is the aerialist and her hubby a rigger, they should devise some sort of pulley system to fly back and forth from here.

God, I CAN NOT wait for the weather to get nice. Just having the option of taking a walk with Noah seems like a dream. We have been holed up in this house for too damn long.

I'm thankful every day!

Every day I look at Noah and I feel so thankful and blessed to have given birth to such a happy, healthy child. Not only had I feared I would not be able to have a child, but once pregnant we had a real scare about Noah's health.

Getting pregnant wasn't as easy as I expected. In July of 2003 Mark and I planned a trip to Paris over my 29th birthday as our last childless hurrah before we settled in and planned to have a baby. I foolishly thought it would be only a month or two before a child was on the way. Though my doctor reassured me many times that it could take a healthy fertile couple an entire year to conceive naturally, every month that passed without me getting pregnant made me more convinced that we weren't going to be able to have a baby. I began researching global adoption and when my best friend Patrice told me she was pregnant, though I was overflowing with joy for her, part of me felt mournful that I wasn't. But after several months of charting my cycle and disappointing outcomes, on March 11 2004 I found out I was finally pregnant. And amazingly, because Noah was early and Patrice's daughter Bella was late, our children were born only five days apart. Not only was I blessed with a child, but also with a friend with whom to share my pregnancy and child rearing experiences.

And my pregnancy was a little worrisome too. At week 18, June 18th, we had our first ultrasound. At the actual visit the sonographer didn’t mention any concerns. In fact we were pleased that the baby looked well and that the photo really did look like a baby and not an undecipherable blob. But the following week Dr. Murthy asked me at my regular OB appt if the sonographer had mentioned the bright spot they had seen in the heart during the ultrasound. She emphasized many times that it was nothing to worry about but that they had seen a small bright spot in the heart and on the very slim chance that it was a signifier of a chromosomal disorder that they needed to do a follow-up ultrasound. She told me there was no rush to have the second ultrasound as it was merely a precaution and she wasn't concerned. But once I got home and we did some research on the Internet, Mark and I discovered the bright spot or "echogenic focus" they saw could be a signpost for Downs Syndrome. We were on edge for two weeks until our next ultrasound, but we decided not to share the information with anyone else because it seemed unnecessary to alarm everyone. Our second ultrasound was on Friday afternoon, July 9th. We had hoped they would no longer see the focus or merely rule it out as insignificant and that would be the end of it, but at that ultrasound they saw an "echogenic bowel" meaning that Noah's little bowel was showing up bright on the ultrasound. This was a second signpost for Downs Syndrome. Unfortunately the Genetic Counselor had gone home for the day and we couldn't see her until Monday morning. So we cried and worried for our babies health all weekend - looking up all sorts of things on the Internet. We soon realized from the doctor's comments and our research that what they had seen on the ultrasounds were not clear signs that Noah would have Downs Syndrome - but they were two among almost twenty things that they sometimes can see in Downs Syndrome babies in utero - however individually they were also found in normal children. Detecting them in our ultrasound just increased the possibility that Noah might have Downs Syndrome and therefore to rule it out the doctors were suggesting we get an amniocentesis - which was the only clear-cut way to be sure either way. Mark and I talked about it a lot and because an amnio holds a risk for miscarriage, and because finding out if our son had Downs Syndrome would not effect our decision to keep him - I felt really strongly that it was not necessary to have the amnio. My mom was the only person we told at the time and she was so worried about everything that she decided to come to the counseling session on Monday. On Monday we met with the counselor and after discussing the mathematical possibilities of Noah having Downs Syndrome and our feeling that we would have him regardless- we decided against the amnio. We decided to just stay positive and try to progress with the pregnancy as normal. I decided I didn't want to tell many people about the ultrasound scare because I didn't want there to be a negative shadow on the pregnancy - but I eventually told a few people like my best friends Patrice and Janette because I'm not good at keeping anything in. At week 28 and week 36 we had follow-up ultrasounds because the doctors were still considering it a high risk birth - but both of them saw no negative signs. In fact both the bowel and heart cleared up. And though as Mark said "Whatever you have in there is ours and we will love him regardless" we felt absolutely blessed when Noah was born with perfect health. All the worry the doctors caused us seemed cruel and unnecessary in retrospect, but the positive side of it is that we didn't take Noah's health for granted. It seemed like a gift from the gods.

The Wiggler strikes back

So the wiggling saga continues. From 1:30 am until 6:30 am Noah slept very fitfully. Our squirmin' wormin would wriggle about with abandon half asleep, knock his pacifier out of his mouth and start to cry. I'd pop it back in and pat/rub his back until we both drifted back to dream land. And then the cycle would repeat.

A call was made to Doc McSorley first thing this morning. She concurs with us that his reflux is probably the cause and most likely if we up just his night dosage he will be in good shape. However because this problem arose at the same time as the introduction of rice cereal we have to take that out of the equation to make sure it is not the cause. So my hungry little man will have to go solid free for two days to see if his night antics continue. Poor little guy. However the real question is how I will make it through two more restless nights. Naps and an early bedtime, I guess.

And of course changing his diaper at 1:30 am did nothing but make it extremely difficult to get him back to sleep. As soon as I laid him down for a diaper change his eyes were wide open and he had a huge grin on his face. It took all my power not to smile back at him, tickle him and tell him how sweet he was.

Last night was a bust in another way. I did not get to see my beloved Amazing Race. The hurricane-like winds knocked our cable out! So I read for awhile and went to bed early. I'll have to read the televisionwithoutpity.com summary to catch up. Last night stunk.

Wiggling to China in the night

I was very proud of Noah and myself yesterday afternoon. He napped long enough for me to straighten the house, do some laundry and prep dinner. And shortly after my father-in-law and his wife arrived he went down for an hour long nap that enabled me to prepare our meal. I was panicked when he woke up just as I was about to put our dinner on the table because I knew he too would be famished. But I made him some cereal and fed him while everyone begun eating. I typically need to nurse him right after the cereal, but he was so patient that I was able to eat dinner before I took him upstairs for the rest of his feeding. The food turned out well and Noah was a little gentleman. I was really happy that it all ended up turning out smoothly. I almost felt like a grown-up. Like little Susie Homemaker. But the best moment of the day was singing to entertain Noah while trying to peel potatoes. Thank God there is no hidden camera.

Of course this morning I am a wreck. We had a third night in a row of Noah's tossing and turning. From 2 am until 7am he tossed his head back and forth and kept waking himself up. Not to mention me. This has been going on every night since he has had cereal. But I'm not sure if that is what is causing it since his naps have been fine after his morning cereal feeding. If it goes on one more night I will have to call the doctor.

Another theory on the possible cause is diaper irritation. I don't change Noah through the night because it wakes him up. But its possible his wetness is what is causing him to toss and turn. Tonight I will have to change him at his 2am feeding and see what happens. Hopefully he returns to sleep and the case is solved.

I can barely keep my eyes open in the meantime. That boy needs to save his Axl Rose dance moves for the daylight hours.

It takes a village of pork loin

So we went to my mother's last night for dinner. My cousin, her husband and their two kids were there too. Their baby boy Evan is only about five weeks older than Noah. It's amazing how much they grow and learn in five weeks. He really sits up well and that is a huge accomplishment. They just kind of propped him up with the Boppy for support and he played with toys on the floor. Amazing. And he's super cute. He's got this thick long black hair and these ruddy little cheeks that make him look like he just came in from the cold. His older sister Aelan is about two years old and four months. She was just chatting up a storm. So adorable. I know they say the twos are terrible, but it must be so exciting when they really start communicating like that.

It's amazing how much more valuable family seems after you have kids. It really does take a village to raise a child. And I'm so glad Noah will have cousins (first removed?) close to his age to play with at family functions. I hope they're friends.

Tonight my father-in-law and his wife are coming for dinner. The house is far from perfect and I'm cooking something I never cooked before - so we have the makings of a disaster. But they are really only coming to see Noah so it doesn't matter if the pork loin is dry. At least that is what I keep trying to tell myself.

The past two nights were a bit hard. Noah hasn't slept well. I'm not sure if it is tied to the new sensation of rice cereal in his stomach or it is just a coincidence. Yesterday morning he woke up at 3:30 am and was MISERABLE. I was so tired and he was just crying and carrying on. It was a very long morning. Last night I could not leave him in the bassinet for a big portion of the night because every time I set him down he started trying to wriggle to China and to wake himself up. But when he woke up entirely too early this morning he was smiling and chipper. What a difference that makes. If I'm completely exhausted one of his smiles will get me up and running to do what has to be done. The morning before was like sleepless torture but with a smiling baby the early rise this morning was hardly a problem. Didn't his momma ever teach him that you can catch more flies with honey? I guess I didn't. Add that to my list.

Solid as a rice cereal!

My boy is an eater! Noah had his first taste of "solid" food this morning. Honestly one teaspoon of rice cereal and four teaspoons of breast milk can hardly be considered solids, but he's on his way. He has embarked on a lifelong romance with food. I really hope that he isn't a picky eater as a child. I want him to try different ethnic foods without the bat of an eye. He certainly doesn't seem finicky at the moment. He wasn't at all phased by the idea of eating cereal. I put it in his mouth and he ate it. Hooray! What a milestone. I was so excited for today that when I went grocery shopping last night I bought little bowls, a ton of little containers of baby food, and the rice cereal. I think I would like to make some of our baby food though. Maybe get a cookbook - though I believe it is as simple as boiling carrots and putting them in the blender with a bit of water. But I will find a way to make it more complicated.

The grocery store is really filled with the dregs of humanity after 9pm on a Friday night. It's just a handful of lonely losers. I bought the wrong kind of coffee because I was wierded out by a guy hanging by the rack staring at me with this look of "She must be lonely too" on his face. There were only two registers open and only one other person checking out when I was leaving. The check out girl was the slowest I have EVER encountered. She stopped ringing three times to negotiate soda purchases for herself and two friends. I think at the end she could tell I was a little peeved because she tried to make small talk. She asked if I had any interesting weekend plans. I said "I have a four month old baby at home, so not really. Mostly feeding, diapering and trying to sleep." Should I have told her I was going to a slamming rave?

I was thinking last night about how hard it is to recognize our parents as real people who have had adventures and troubles prior to our birth. I really want to make sure my children know who I was before I was "Mom." Ideally it would be great to write a memoir. I could start by talking about what I know of my parents and my early life and go all the way until Noah was conceived. Certainly how I handle things will be dictated by what age I would consider showing it to my kids. I mean I wouldn't discuss any questionable behavior with a seven year old, but I might with a seventeen year old. In fact I think the teen years is exactly when my kids will need help to think of me as a flawed human and not just an authoritarian. Will they believe my hair has been dyed most of the shades of the rainbow? That I went to the Village at 16 to see a rock band at CBGBs without my mother's knowledge? That I partied so much my freshman year of college that I worried I was an alcoholic? These are experiences that shaped me. And I feel like some day it will be important for my children to hear about them, so they really know me. I want to share my life with them as I hope they share their lives with me.

In the world of the living

Last night I went out! And I survived!
After about ten minutes of feeling totally disconnected and out of place in the bar - I got over it. I am happy to report that I enjoyed two Hoegaardens (sp?) and NO cigarettes. Though by the smell of it my clothes smoked quite a bit.
It was important to me to celebrate Jen's birthday and it was good for me to get out, despite my hemming and hawing. I got to socialize with friends who I don't see enough anymore - though I talked their childless ears off about childbirth of all things. And I am sure I should never have referenced my breasts so much or mentioned my urethra. But what can I say? I speak my mind.
Of course the night was made possible by the wonderfulness of husband Mark and best friend Patrice. She brought her whole clan (husband Sean, 12yo son Trent and baby Bella) to our place to hang with Mark and Noah while we went out to paint the town. So what do two new fathers, a preteen boy and two infants do when moms are out? Watch American Idol! Happily Noah was a good predictable boy and stayed asleep the whole time I was out. Well done!

To Noah - about you at 4 months

Dear Noah,

Happy four-month-aversary of your birth! We had your four month check-up this morning. You weighed 12 pounds, 13 ounces and were 25 inches long. We were a little worried that you were too skinny, but Dr. Bidi McSorley said there was nothing to worry about. In fact she said you were a "perfect four month old."

The big news is that we got the go ahead for you to eat solids. So your first food is on the horizon. Most likely we will give it a go on Saturday. The Dr. Said it didn't matter if we gave you cereal, veggies or fruit first - that most people give cereal first out of tradition. My baby book says that breast fed babies prefer eating mashed bananas because breast milk is sweeter than formula - and therefore they don't like the blandness of the cereal. Not sure yet what we'll do.

You are so much fun now. Your hands are always noodling around and grabbing at things. You smile, squeak and speak gibberish. You like to play shy sometimes and you play peek-a-boo when I'm in the shower in the morning. You love playing with your play gyms and you can spend quite awhile batting away while squeaking with glee - while I email with friends during the day. I make sure to read a few books, sing a few songs, and dance with you every day. Your father's music ability is far superior to mine - and he can change the lyrics of any song to be about you.

I have finally begun putting you down in your bassinet for most of the night. My mother joked "But he's not even seventeen yet." You're still a rebel and will only sleep on your stomach - experts be damned. You continue to wake up every three hours for feeding, but other than that you are a pretty great sleeper. You're in bed by 8pm almost every night. Next we have to transition you into falling asleep no your own instead of needing to be rocked to sleep and then put down. This may be a tough one.

Your father adores you. He spends a good portion of his work day looking at photos of you. And he is SO happy to see you when he gets home. Just witnessing him love you makes my heart swell. Your father is such a wonderful and loving human being. I'm a very lucky wife and you are a very lucky little boy.

In fact you are a very loved by so many people. My mom (Mee Maw) adores you and drives into the city almost every weekend to see you. When she came to see you this weekend she said your smiles made her well up with tears of joy. Grandpa Martin, Grandma Sylvia and Great Grandmom Laima are big Noah fans too. Sylvia can't stop cooing over you. Laima calls you Master Noah and even sent you a Valentines Day card. Patrice, Sean, Trent and Bella are a part of your family and they love you like you were there own. It's really special that you will grow up with a second family like that - we are really blessed to have them in our lives. And Janette has a little one on the way too - and they too are an important part of your extended family. Your Aunt Jessica is only ten, but she really enjoyed time with you two weekends ago. You could not stop smiling at her and it made her feel like a million bucks. Our friend Tracey comes by regularly just to see and hold you. She has pictures of you up on her desktop. She says you are so cute that it's ridiculous. My Dad and I were having tough times before you were born - but we put it all behind us so he could be a part of your life. It's great to see him talking to you and to see Oma holding you. And the whole McCormack clan has sent you cards and gifts over the last few months. Aunt Marilyn and Aunt Jean have called in for updates. We are very sad your Grandmom Muriel isn't with us, but if there is a "heaven" in any sense I am sure she is looking down and keeping watch over you. She's probably your guardian angel.

I am so enamored with you that I want to have another baby right away. If one is this fantastic two must be unbelievable. Plus, you are so great that I owe it to the planet to have more offspring! And I want you to have a playmate. A sibling with whom to share your life. In fact I think that is one of the best gifts I could give to you.

The last four months have been the best of my life. I've never felt so loved or so loving. Thank you. And it's only going to get better as you learn and grow.

With undying, unconditional love today and always, Mom

The Race Begins

I don't know why I'm such a motor-mouth today! I felt I had to say something about Amazing Race. I LOVE Amazing Race. Let me preface this by saying that I watch an insane amount of reality television programming. In truth I don't even like 80% of it. It's just the lesser of evils when I am looking for something to watch in the evening. But Amazing Race is a fantastic show. Contestants travel the globe with someone with whom they already have a relationship of love and baggage. It's fast paced and people don't eliminate others - they win on their merits or luck alone. Fantastic.

I'm SO glad the new season started so soon after the last ended. I was very unhappy that Freddy and Kendra won. The "pretty" couple was really annoying. And the comments Kendra made about Africa were apalling. What an ignorant moron. I wanted Kris & Jon to win. On the new season I already like the Lynn & Alex - the gay couple. But my early call for winner is the Zach Braff brothers. They seem like arses but I think they will be tough competitors. Mark picked the POW and beauty queen - who already annoy me. How many times does the POW have to point out that he was in Iraq and how many times does Rob have to mention Survivor? How nauseating. Anyway - I can't wait for the next episode.

Under or over stimulated?

So enough about me and my insecurities. There is so much to say about Noah - for whom my fatness and discomfort is a very small price to pay. I am stunned every day by how fantastic he is. He has these giant inquisitive and expressive eyes. When he is sad they break your heart and when he is happy they send you into a blissful state you couldn't have imagined. (Well - at least for me. I can't speak for you. Whoever the hell you are.)

Last night was his very first time sitting in his high chair. He didn't eat anything, but rather just watched us eat. Masochist. But he just sat there patiently. It was a nice change from one of us bouncing him while the other one felt bad that they were the only parent who got a warm dinner. I can't believe how he seems so much closer to being a little boy rather than an infant. It makes so happy and so sad too. This time is SO precious. In ten years I doubt he will just let me cuddle him for an hour and play with his little hands and feet.

So my big dilemma with him is always wondering if I am doing enough with him. I read, sing, dance and talk with him. I stretch, bounce, and roll him. He plays with his gyms, his rattles, and Brainy Baby toys. But that cycle of activities draws to a close early in the day. And then I am wondering if I start again at the beginning or if there is something else I should be doing with him. If I let him play with the gym for twenty minutes a couple of times a day while I check email, is that neglectful? Should I be engaging him constantly? I wish I could be a fly on the wall and see what other mothers do with their infants. Noah is just SO amazing. I feel so blessed to have such a healthy, engaging, beautiful little boy and I want to make sure I do the best for him.

Adhesive Pants

So I went to Old Navy to buy SOMETHING to wear out tonight. And my quest for something that would look decent on me felt like dress shopping for a hunchbacked cyclops. I tried on a billion things. In XL, XXL and even in maternity. I had a nervous breakdown in the dressing room. But I made it out of there an hour and a half later with a pair of jeans that fit a bit better than the fat lady jeans I have, a black sweater that still looks ridiculous on my huge rack, and a pair of tailored black pants of which I really liked the fit.

I put those damn pants on this morning to try to figure out what I was going to wear with them and discovered how much they suck. For some godforsaken reason they are made out of fabric akin to fly tape. Strings, lint and hair covered every inch of the damn things. WHY would anyone make pants out of a fabric that attracts every dustball in a five mile radius? Damn it. Now I have to take them back.

Oh and my hair is falling out! I think this is a postnatal thing, but I have to look it up.

Pelvis has left the building

Holy crap! I am planning to leave the house tomorrow night and go to a bar to celebrate a friends birthday. And get this - I am horribly terrified and not looking forward to it. Wierd, huh? Well there are many parts of it - none of which have to do with leaving my son in the very capable hands of my wonderful husband. The biggest reason (literally) is that I am huge and have nothing to wear that makes me feel at all presentable and certainly not cool. And that isn't just a weight thing. My lactating breasts are too large to fit in anything smaller than a tent. The next reason is my willpower. On March 11 it will be one year I have been smoke free. It was relatively easy for me to quit after I got pregnant and I could no longer go out for a few beers. It was always the smoking and drinking connection that ruined all my past attempts to quit. And now tomorrow I can have a couple of beers (within reason obviously) and I will be hanging out with smokers. I am SO scared I will want a cigarette. A third reason is that I have forgotten how to be sociable in a group - especially containing people who I don't know. I mean if I meet someone for the first time tomorrow night what the hell am I going to talk about? Lactating? Noah's nap time? His adorable dolphin noises? These things are very important to me and valid topics of discussion - but I doubt others will agree. I really am apprehensive - as if it were my first day at school. Luckily my best friend and sister in lactation will be with me and we can't stay too long since we have infants to feed.
But what the hell am I going to wear - dammit. Pants that fit my postnatal pouch are gi-normous and unattractive. Shirts that fit my lactating breasts are gi-normous and unattractive. THIS is why I just wanted to stay in the house until June. Guh.
Well, I better go start dinner before my wee one wakes.