March 24, 2009
We've just been to the pediatrician (and to Sahadi's and Trader Joe's, yum). Little D was an angel except for the part where he peed all over the examining table. We learned that he's in the 16th percentile for weight and the 75th percentile for height! Long and lean, as they say, which fits well with the genes on both sides. This makes me feel like a proud mama.
We've just gone and spent a week in the wilds of the Jersey shore, where the supermarkets are as large as a Home Depot, one must use a car to travel, and shopping involves a steady diet of strip malls and chain stores. Still, it was luxurious because we didn't have to leave the house to get some sun (big windows!) and we had our very own non-coin-operated washer and dryer. We gorged ourselves on the Food channel (me) and HGTV (Derek), since we don't have cable at home, and generally enjoyed playing house. It was lovely to get out of our small apartment and do the sleep-nurse-fuss-play-sleep routine with different scenery and better air.
Little D is having some trouble with reflux. He gets upset after feeding, which can be heartbreaking, but there are blissful feedings now and then where he doesn't cry. This makes me think we can work towards more comfort for the rest, so we're troubleshooting. There's a learning curve, though.
On the up side, he loves to be on the changing table. He bicycles his legs and bats his arms and stares at whatever entertainment we have nearby. At the shore, this was a skylight. At home, it's a Whoozit. And wherever we are, it's our faces, which we contort into various expressions in order to elicit the half-grin that D gives us when he's amused. It's a blast.
It amazes me that D is already growing out of clothes. He swam in everything we had at the beginning. There are three stretchies that don't fit anymore. He'll be six weeks old on Wednesday.
March 15, 2009
Eight Things I've Learned About Being a Mom
...because I'm too tired to come up with 10.
1. Poop and wicker don't mix.
2. No matter how ready you are for it, the pee on the changing table will come when you're not looking, and will go straight up and in whichever direction the diaper is not.
3. If the baby smells strongly of poop and doesn't have any in his diaper, the poop is on you. Most likely all over your shirt.
4. Pacifiers are not at all evil.
5. Eating soup with one hand while holding the baby is not advisable.
6. Husbands are wonderful, especially when they make you food and their voices jump several octaves when changing a fussy baby.
7. The outside world is both a scary place and a wonderful place.
8. The diapers are not getting smaller -- the baby is growing!
March 14, 2009
Introducing Little D
There are so many little parenting anecdotes that I could have shared here in the past month. They play themselves in my head and I recite them to the friends and family who visit, but I rarely have more than one hand available for typing, and when I do I obsessively check email, upload photos, take a shower, etc. Still, I'd like to share some of them, so I'm writing here again. I'll warn you that I have Mommy Brain, which means I'm stupid and incoherent. I'll also warn you that they'll be stories about parenting -- these involve poop, pee, and stroller status, which we parents find fascinating.
To the uninformed, D and I had a son a month ago -- Derek Jeremiah. He's a wonder. He's beautiful. It's thrilling to see hints of a social smile, and to hold him and fall asleep together. Here's a photo of the three of us at exactly one month:
The All-Important Name
We agonized about the name because I liked Noah and D hated it. I'd wake up from a nap in the hospital, turn to D, and say, "Name! We need a name. Give me some names." We knew we wanted Jeremiah in there, but thought it might be long for a first name. At the last minute, we thought seriously about Gavin, but I didn't love it. Luke was considered and rejected. A friend showed up at the hospital with a list of suggested names. No go, so we managed to leave the hospital without naming the poor kid at all.
We were supposed to call the hospital the next morning with a name, which we failed to do. We didn't decide on something until the following Tuesday, at which point we'd gone back to the only name we've been able to marginally agree on -- Derek Jeremiah. This, because we have no imagination and the elder Derek doesn't like any names but his own.
Having two Dereks in the house in not ideal. There has to be a nickname. We thought about Remi, Jerry, DJ. Nothing is sticking. We've also discovered that having two Dereks with the same middle initial does NOT help matters.
The Ghetto Stroller
We took him on his first stroller outing today. Thus far, we've used a sling to take him anywhere, which is much more convenient, but he can't see much from inside the fabric and he's usually asleep in there anyway. I noticed him checking out the view when we had him in a car seat for a doctor visit yesterday, so we tried it again today.
Compared to the two Bugaboos in our building and the variety of upscale strollers in Park Slope, we have a pretty ghetto ride for Little D. It's a hand-me-down car seat with a universal stroller bottom (not the matching base you're supposed to have) that we picked up from our neighbors who were putting it on the street. We'll graduate to a used Maclaren as soon as he's a little bigger. We're enjoying being stroller rebels at the moment.
Little D seemed quite interested at first, looking inquisitively upwards. It's fun to put words in his mouth, so Big D said, in a mock-panicky voice, "Hey, where's the ceiling? What happened to the ceiling?", which isn't such a stretch -- he hasn't really looked up at anything but a ceiling for a while, not that he can see beyond a few inches, but a SKY is a new concept. Scary. Then he fell asleep.
We kept venturing farther away from home, thinking we could get a thing or two done. We'd pause, look at him sleeping, and then go another block. He didn't wake up and have a meltdown until we were a good 12 blocks away, at which point we realized the following simultaneously: the weather had turned icy cold, he needed a new diaper and to be fed, we'd forgotten the pacifier, and the stroller couldn't possibly be any slower.
The Stuart Smalley of Parenting
Tonight, because a bout of fussiness has been making us freak out, new parent-style, we got The Happiest Baby on the Block DVD. When you're pregnant, other parents say you MUST get and watch this to save your sanity.
I was feeling like an idiot for not watching it, but now I find it hilarious for its similarity to Stuart Smalley SNL segments. A soft-spoken, affectatious guy in a sweater vest goes on about calming babies by putting them in straightjackets and shouting in their ear (shushing as loud as a jet engine), while soft music plays and care-bear style bullet points in soft focus outline his method for success.
The method may work, but the delivery is very low-budget, self-help infomercial. It's probably because I haven't been out enough, but I was laughing hysterically two minutes into it. D pointed out that he's saying "You're good enough, you're smart enough, and your baby likes you." I need to check with other Moms to see if this is my warped response or not.
That's all for now. Here's a parting photo of D with his best friend and confidant, Mr. B. Rabbit.