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.