This is K's "smile for the camera" smile that I always try to get him not to do:
And look, X learned how to smile too!
Tuesday, 31 May 2011
Friday, 27 May 2011
Thursday we packed up the car and headed for the airport. Nine hours later, we arrived at our destination, exhausted and covered in bodily fluids ejected from our children. K spent most of the flight clutching the barf bag for dear life and then fell asleep on top of JW. X was a little volcano, at one point spitting up directly down my sleeve and at another down my shirt, prompting the woman across the aisle to reminisce about how her baby once pooped in her husband's pocket. Normally a great napper, X was so excited that he refused to close his eyes. Every few minutes, he would realize how tired he was and start yelling and yelling. The upside to this was that while walking up and down the aisle with him, I got to chat with some of the New England Revolution guys. The entire team was on our plane, on their way to a game with the San Jose Sharks. They seem like fine upstanding gentlemen and we look forward to attending their games when the boys are older.
The rest of the trip went either uphill or downhill from there, depending on whether you consider "up" and "down" to be measures of quality or difficulty. Friday we met CT for lunch, went for a walk on a local trail, and had dinner with my cousin. Saturday morning we met up with a college friend and her baby for a park outing and lunch. Saturday evening was the wedding. CT and her husband, Mr. Trousers, came over to babysit. This turned out perfectly -- K was excited to hang out with them, they enjoyed quality time with the boys, and JW and I got our first alone time out since before X was born. The place we were staying was literally five minutes away from the wedding, so I came back to feed X instead of lugging my pump out to California. We only knew a few people at the wedding and I wasn't feeling up to doing much dancing, so we came home early and hung out with CT and Mr. Trousers after the boys were in bed. (Other high points of the wedding: a close friend was the best man and gave a great toast, and the groom's father gave a speech about how his son was born in the car on the way to the hospital, which none of us knew about despite the groom being a legendary storyteller!) Sunday we met up with another cousin and her family for a nursery school carnival, where K patted bunnies and overcame his fear of the obstacle course. Then we had a bigger family get-together for dinner and returned home to pack. The flight home on Monday went surprisingly smoothly -- X was his usual mellow self, we drugged K up with ibuprofen and Dramamine and he was fine, and both kids slept for a while.
This week has felt a little crazy even though I'm not working. We returned Monday, Wednesday night we went to a party, and tonight we're supposed to leave for my in-laws' place for Memorial Day weekend. Today is JW's birthday (happy birthday to my lovely husband!). I feel like I've spent the week recovering from our CA trip, doing laundry and grocery shopping and cleaning up, but we still have a few lingering items to unpack and we're still so tired. So, so tired. So tired that I keep hurting myself accidentally -- in the space of 24 hours, I burned my arm, bruised my other arm, hit my head on the bathroom shelving twice, and closed a metal door on my heel. So tired that while K was getting ready for bed, I went into the bathroom and stared into space for so long that he had to come find me. So tired that I have forgotten how to do math. I'm hoping to get some naps in this weekend.
In little boy news, X is nearly three months old and is becoming a delightful little baby instead of a cuddly ball of a newborn. He goos and gahs and smiles a lot. His eyes are wide open and he's lost that look of someone who's just taken off their glasses. He still has the spastic arms, so he needs to be swaddled when he sleeps -- I'm hoping he grows out of that soon, because it's been hot lately and also he can break out of anything but the tightest swaddle. He gets terrible neck rashes from spitting up, no matter how much we try to keep him clean. I don't remember that happening to K. And he also has severe cradle cap, so I've been oiling up his head. He doesn't seem to mind.
K got a haircut yesterday and screamed just as loudly as ever. I thought he was getting over that. K loves to play superheroes (or "supers", as he calls it) and is always talking about what powers he has. He is also back to counting snails now that they're out of hibernation. K has never had a dominant hand, and we thought he might be a lefty but would settle on a hand once he started writing. My theory was that he never liked to write or draw or color because he didn't have a dominant hand. Well, thanks to his preschool teacher, he now knows how to write all the letters on his own and was happy to write in Daddy's birthday card. "What hand did he use?" asked JW. "Both of them," I replied. He'd make one line of the X, or the down stroke of the D, with his left hand, then switch to his right hand for the rest of the letter. I doubt it's occurred to him that none of the other kids do this.
I have done a few interesting things so far on my maternity leave. I reviewed a manuscript of Laura Vanderkam's latest book about money, which contains lots of thought-provoking ideas about how people can allocate their money to make themselves happier. I joined the board of a community foundation that does great work in my town. I attended an alumni entrepreneurship event, and it looks like I'll be mentoring some Brown entrepreneurs this summer. I'm trying to take some time to do things that I would ordinarily love to do, but would never have time for while I'm working full-time.
I've also realized that somehow, I have become an incurable Type A. I'm not sure whether this was an effect of law school, whether it's snuck up on me over time, or whether I've always been like this and never realized it. Even on maternity leave, I have a daily to-do list and fret about getting things done. I need to remember this when I go back to work -- it's not necessarily the job, it's also me.
Okay, back to packing and laundry and I said I'd bake a cake for tomorrow night and X is napping fitfully and it's almost time to pick up K and I haven't started dinner.
The rest of the trip went either uphill or downhill from there, depending on whether you consider "up" and "down" to be measures of quality or difficulty. Friday we met CT for lunch, went for a walk on a local trail, and had dinner with my cousin. Saturday morning we met up with a college friend and her baby for a park outing and lunch. Saturday evening was the wedding. CT and her husband, Mr. Trousers, came over to babysit. This turned out perfectly -- K was excited to hang out with them, they enjoyed quality time with the boys, and JW and I got our first alone time out since before X was born. The place we were staying was literally five minutes away from the wedding, so I came back to feed X instead of lugging my pump out to California. We only knew a few people at the wedding and I wasn't feeling up to doing much dancing, so we came home early and hung out with CT and Mr. Trousers after the boys were in bed. (Other high points of the wedding: a close friend was the best man and gave a great toast, and the groom's father gave a speech about how his son was born in the car on the way to the hospital, which none of us knew about despite the groom being a legendary storyteller!) Sunday we met up with another cousin and her family for a nursery school carnival, where K patted bunnies and overcame his fear of the obstacle course. Then we had a bigger family get-together for dinner and returned home to pack. The flight home on Monday went surprisingly smoothly -- X was his usual mellow self, we drugged K up with ibuprofen and Dramamine and he was fine, and both kids slept for a while.
This week has felt a little crazy even though I'm not working. We returned Monday, Wednesday night we went to a party, and tonight we're supposed to leave for my in-laws' place for Memorial Day weekend. Today is JW's birthday (happy birthday to my lovely husband!). I feel like I've spent the week recovering from our CA trip, doing laundry and grocery shopping and cleaning up, but we still have a few lingering items to unpack and we're still so tired. So, so tired. So tired that I keep hurting myself accidentally -- in the space of 24 hours, I burned my arm, bruised my other arm, hit my head on the bathroom shelving twice, and closed a metal door on my heel. So tired that while K was getting ready for bed, I went into the bathroom and stared into space for so long that he had to come find me. So tired that I have forgotten how to do math. I'm hoping to get some naps in this weekend.
In little boy news, X is nearly three months old and is becoming a delightful little baby instead of a cuddly ball of a newborn. He goos and gahs and smiles a lot. His eyes are wide open and he's lost that look of someone who's just taken off their glasses. He still has the spastic arms, so he needs to be swaddled when he sleeps -- I'm hoping he grows out of that soon, because it's been hot lately and also he can break out of anything but the tightest swaddle. He gets terrible neck rashes from spitting up, no matter how much we try to keep him clean. I don't remember that happening to K. And he also has severe cradle cap, so I've been oiling up his head. He doesn't seem to mind.
K got a haircut yesterday and screamed just as loudly as ever. I thought he was getting over that. K loves to play superheroes (or "supers", as he calls it) and is always talking about what powers he has. He is also back to counting snails now that they're out of hibernation. K has never had a dominant hand, and we thought he might be a lefty but would settle on a hand once he started writing. My theory was that he never liked to write or draw or color because he didn't have a dominant hand. Well, thanks to his preschool teacher, he now knows how to write all the letters on his own and was happy to write in Daddy's birthday card. "What hand did he use?" asked JW. "Both of them," I replied. He'd make one line of the X, or the down stroke of the D, with his left hand, then switch to his right hand for the rest of the letter. I doubt it's occurred to him that none of the other kids do this.
I have done a few interesting things so far on my maternity leave. I reviewed a manuscript of Laura Vanderkam's latest book about money, which contains lots of thought-provoking ideas about how people can allocate their money to make themselves happier. I joined the board of a community foundation that does great work in my town. I attended an alumni entrepreneurship event, and it looks like I'll be mentoring some Brown entrepreneurs this summer. I'm trying to take some time to do things that I would ordinarily love to do, but would never have time for while I'm working full-time.
I've also realized that somehow, I have become an incurable Type A. I'm not sure whether this was an effect of law school, whether it's snuck up on me over time, or whether I've always been like this and never realized it. Even on maternity leave, I have a daily to-do list and fret about getting things done. I need to remember this when I go back to work -- it's not necessarily the job, it's also me.
Okay, back to packing and laundry and I said I'd bake a cake for tomorrow night and X is napping fitfully and it's almost time to pick up K and I haven't started dinner.
Wednesday, 18 May 2011
We're leaving on a possibly ill-advised trip to California tomorrow. I have sublimated my anxiety about traveling with the kids into preparing elaborate Plane Fun Kits for K, one for each direction. They contain Highlights magazines, puzzles, workbooks, toy cars and dinosaurs, candy, magnets, stickers, Mr. Men books, and -- the piece de resistance -- a Buzz Lightyear electronic toy.
I realized that in six hours, we can expect X to poop at least twice. The last time I changed a diaper in an airplane toilet was an adventure. I guess I can look forward to DOUBLE the adventure this time. Probably more than double. Last time we flew, when I was about 8 months pregnant and had no lap, K kept saying he was sick and insisted on sitting on top of me. He fell asleep and I spent the entire flight trying to hold on to him so he wouldn't slide off my giant belly on to the floor.
Wish us luck!
P.S. - JW points out that at least we don't have to worry about the return flight, because the Rapture will happen before we're scheduled to get back.
I realized that in six hours, we can expect X to poop at least twice. The last time I changed a diaper in an airplane toilet was an adventure. I guess I can look forward to DOUBLE the adventure this time. Probably more than double. Last time we flew, when I was about 8 months pregnant and had no lap, K kept saying he was sick and insisted on sitting on top of me. He fell asleep and I spent the entire flight trying to hold on to him so he wouldn't slide off my giant belly on to the floor.
Wish us luck!
P.S. - JW points out that at least we don't have to worry about the return flight, because the Rapture will happen before we're scheduled to get back.
Thursday, 12 May 2011
My post-baby body hasn't bothered me too much. Sure, I knew I had some extra padding, and the number on the scale was about 15 pounds above my pre-baby weight. But I thought I looked fine, and meanwhile was making slow progress toward losing the weight.
Today I made the mistake of trying on one of my pre-baby dresses while looking for an outfit to wear to a friend's wedding. I couldn't zip it up more than halfway. Then I compounded that mistake by going to Marshall's. Not only did I have to face the dressing room mirror, but I tried on jeans three sizes larger than usual because I was dying to wear some non-maternity pants that wouldn't slip down when I walked. They were a little snug.
In the midst of my dressing room trauma, I heard the most passive-aggressive conversation ever between two girls who I will call Annoying Girl and Friend. Annoying Girl kept telling Friend, over and over, that the jeans she was trying on made her look short. She alternated these statements with variations of "I'm just being honest." Friend began responding with monosyllables, then grunts, and then silence. When her honesty was no longer eliciting comment, Annoying Girl switched to, "Now you're mad at me, aren't you? You're mad! I'll just shut up and keep my opinions to myself." Friend: "No. I'm not mad. It's just a pair of jeans." This went on for another few minutes. Then Annoying Girl said, "Don't be mad, it's just that those jeans make you look as short as me." Well done, Annoying Girl! Friend was goaded into replying, "Come on. That's impossible. You're 5'2". I'm 5'9"." Annoying Girl then launched BACK into the "You look short" conversation. This did not end until an older woman interjected herself into the conversation and joked that this is why she always shops alone.
Today I made the mistake of trying on one of my pre-baby dresses while looking for an outfit to wear to a friend's wedding. I couldn't zip it up more than halfway. Then I compounded that mistake by going to Marshall's. Not only did I have to face the dressing room mirror, but I tried on jeans three sizes larger than usual because I was dying to wear some non-maternity pants that wouldn't slip down when I walked. They were a little snug.
In the midst of my dressing room trauma, I heard the most passive-aggressive conversation ever between two girls who I will call Annoying Girl and Friend. Annoying Girl kept telling Friend, over and over, that the jeans she was trying on made her look short. She alternated these statements with variations of "I'm just being honest." Friend began responding with monosyllables, then grunts, and then silence. When her honesty was no longer eliciting comment, Annoying Girl switched to, "Now you're mad at me, aren't you? You're mad! I'll just shut up and keep my opinions to myself." Friend: "No. I'm not mad. It's just a pair of jeans." This went on for another few minutes. Then Annoying Girl said, "Don't be mad, it's just that those jeans make you look as short as me." Well done, Annoying Girl! Friend was goaded into replying, "Come on. That's impossible. You're 5'2". I'm 5'9"." Annoying Girl then launched BACK into the "You look short" conversation. This did not end until an older woman interjected herself into the conversation and joked that this is why she always shops alone.
Wednesday, 11 May 2011
Today X took a two and a half hour nap. I spent the entire time making this chard and onion panade. It was tasty (and a new eating experience, since we'd never had panade before), but I'm not sure if it was worth all the time it took. I might try a less labor-intensive version some time. Actually, JW asked me why it took so long and I couldn't quite tell him. There are a few components, but the only one that takes a while is the onions and most of that time is spent occasionally stirring them while they soften on the stove. So maybe it would feel less labor-intensive next time, since I'd know what I was doing.
When I picked K up from school today, all the kids in his class clustered around to look at X. That's normal. Then one of them said, "Where did the baby come from?" "The baby store," I joked. "No," they said. "Where did you get him from?" "I grew him in my tummy," I replied. "But how did he get out?" asked one little boy. "I went to the hospital and got him out," I said. "Was it hard?" he asked. "Yes, it was hard!" "But HOW did he get out?" he asked. Another boy chimed in. "Did the doctor cut open your tummy?" "Uh, no, not this time," I replied. A little girl asked, "But WHERE did he come out?" Two other kids repeated, "WHERE did he come out?" I pretended I didn't hear, grabbed K's hand, and said, "Bye, everyone! Say goodbye to the baby!"
After X was born, K asked how the baby got out. I told him, "I pushed him out." "Where?" "Through the hole where I pee." (Creative license.) "But Mommy, that's a very small hole." "I KNOW."
I wasn't quite prepared to have this conversation with eight four-year olds. I don't want to get in trouble with the other parents.
When I picked K up from school today, all the kids in his class clustered around to look at X. That's normal. Then one of them said, "Where did the baby come from?" "The baby store," I joked. "No," they said. "Where did you get him from?" "I grew him in my tummy," I replied. "But how did he get out?" asked one little boy. "I went to the hospital and got him out," I said. "Was it hard?" he asked. "Yes, it was hard!" "But HOW did he get out?" he asked. Another boy chimed in. "Did the doctor cut open your tummy?" "Uh, no, not this time," I replied. A little girl asked, "But WHERE did he come out?" Two other kids repeated, "WHERE did he come out?" I pretended I didn't hear, grabbed K's hand, and said, "Bye, everyone! Say goodbye to the baby!"
After X was born, K asked how the baby got out. I told him, "I pushed him out." "Where?" "Through the hole where I pee." (Creative license.) "But Mommy, that's a very small hole." "I KNOW."
I wasn't quite prepared to have this conversation with eight four-year olds. I don't want to get in trouble with the other parents.
Tuesday, 10 May 2011
K has realized that I'm not going to work anymore (although I've vaguely implied that I sometimes "work at home") and has been asking to stay home with me and X. For the past few weeks, he's been home with me once or twice a week. Today I decided to give him a daycare vacation so we could go to a fun event in Boston's Public Garden. Unfortunately, the weather didn't cooperate and we ended up at home most of the day. He made me sing "We Go Together" from "Grease" about forty times in a row and we learned some new knock knock jokes. We played pirates and danced to songs on the iPod. Our big outing was to the shoe store, where I was a little concerned to learn that K's shoe size hasn't changed in well over six months. He made a friend and ran around with her while I looked for shoes and chased him down once in a while to try on a new pair. At dinnertime he refused to eat the mushroom pizza and we got in an argument about dessert. Finally I set a timer and told him that when it went off, we were going to leave the table and get ready for bed. Once he realized this was not a punishment, somehow this reset his bad mood. Before bed he sang an impromptu and very long song about the joys of nudity featuring a litany of nude activities, including "Eat dinner nude, go to space nude, swim underwater nude, go to school nude, do all the things that you can do nude!" I got a neck-up video of the tail end of this. He watched it and laughed and laughed. I laughed too, but I was thinking, "One day I'll show this to your future spouse!"
Saturday, 7 May 2011
It's incredible how many fun events are happening today. I think we'll end up at the arts festival in our town and at Rocket Day at Danehy Park. Tomorrow is the annual Mother's Day Duckling Parade. Hooray for spring!
I didn't mean to disappear into babyland for so long. Before X wakes up, a few things that have happened lately:
X is now two months old. He had his doctor's appointment yesterday and is 50th percentile for weight (12.5 pounds) and 25th for height. He got two shots and an oral vaccine, and spent the entire afternoon screaming while I frantically ran around town in search of infant Tylenol. Today he seems fine. Yesterday made me grateful that X is usually such a calm baby.
X can track objects, has become interested in mobiles, and smiles at us. Also, if his brother was the Spitup King, X is Master of the Poop Explosion. All those milk-stained onesies of K's that I debated throwing away are now in daily use because X somehow manages to poop out of his diaper and up his back at least once a day.
Speaking of poop (and aren't you glad we are?) K has learned to use the regular toilet. No more cleaning out the plastic potty for me! At least not for another two or three years.
Our niece M came to visit for Easter. Oh yeah, her parents came too. The kids had a blast playing together. In the past, they've had turf wars when visiting each other. This time they happily chased each other around and jumped on the mattress and threw toys at each other. They loved the Easter egg hunt around the house, and we all had fun (probably the adults more than the kids) decorating egg- and bunny-shaped cookies. Despite his newfound fondness for his cousin, K kept saying, "M is so whiny, isn't she?" After she left, K announced, "I'm not going to whine and fuss anymore. That's for little kids. I'm four now." I thought that was cute. But he's been surprisingly cooperative and pleasant ever since. Never underestimate a four-year old.
I've been spending more time at home with the two kids. This week K insisted he was sick and couldn't go to school. I was extremely skeptical, but decided I'd believe him and keep him at home. Unfortunately, I couldn't get over my skepticism and ended up being grumpy all day and trying to get him to admit he was lying. (He never did.) Bad Mommy. At dinnertime I apologized and told him I'd be nice to him for the rest of the day. Before he went to sleep, he said, "Mommy? Try to be nicer to me tomorrow." Anyway, I told him that if he wants to stay home he should just tell me, and we may not always be able to but I'll try.
We have had a huge number of doctor's appointments. K went to the eye doctor and was apprehensive, but ended up loving it and asking to go back. (Not for four years.) K got strep again. X had an eye infection. I had my postpartum checkup and then went back to get Mirena. Next week it's the dentist for K, and in the coming weeks I'll have a followup appointment with my OB and X will have another well baby appointment. We have a high-deductible insurance plan, so we have paid out thousands in health care costs already this year. Hopefully nearly all of that is behind us now.
I read "A Reason to Believe" by Deval Patrick, "The Reluctant Fundamentalist" by Mohsin Hamid, the Mysterious Benedict Society series by Trenton Lee Stewart, and "Nonviolent Communication: A Language of Life" by Marshall Rosenberg. I enjoyed all of them, and have more to say about some of them, but not right now.
We're preparing for a trip to California for a friend's wedding. Our first big trip with the two kids. My plan is to not worry about it, and to get an electronic toy to occupy K on the plane.
I hear a crying baby. More later.
I didn't mean to disappear into babyland for so long. Before X wakes up, a few things that have happened lately:
X is now two months old. He had his doctor's appointment yesterday and is 50th percentile for weight (12.5 pounds) and 25th for height. He got two shots and an oral vaccine, and spent the entire afternoon screaming while I frantically ran around town in search of infant Tylenol. Today he seems fine. Yesterday made me grateful that X is usually such a calm baby.
X can track objects, has become interested in mobiles, and smiles at us. Also, if his brother was the Spitup King, X is Master of the Poop Explosion. All those milk-stained onesies of K's that I debated throwing away are now in daily use because X somehow manages to poop out of his diaper and up his back at least once a day.
Speaking of poop (and aren't you glad we are?) K has learned to use the regular toilet. No more cleaning out the plastic potty for me! At least not for another two or three years.
Our niece M came to visit for Easter. Oh yeah, her parents came too. The kids had a blast playing together. In the past, they've had turf wars when visiting each other. This time they happily chased each other around and jumped on the mattress and threw toys at each other. They loved the Easter egg hunt around the house, and we all had fun (probably the adults more than the kids) decorating egg- and bunny-shaped cookies. Despite his newfound fondness for his cousin, K kept saying, "M is so whiny, isn't she?" After she left, K announced, "I'm not going to whine and fuss anymore. That's for little kids. I'm four now." I thought that was cute. But he's been surprisingly cooperative and pleasant ever since. Never underestimate a four-year old.
I've been spending more time at home with the two kids. This week K insisted he was sick and couldn't go to school. I was extremely skeptical, but decided I'd believe him and keep him at home. Unfortunately, I couldn't get over my skepticism and ended up being grumpy all day and trying to get him to admit he was lying. (He never did.) Bad Mommy. At dinnertime I apologized and told him I'd be nice to him for the rest of the day. Before he went to sleep, he said, "Mommy? Try to be nicer to me tomorrow." Anyway, I told him that if he wants to stay home he should just tell me, and we may not always be able to but I'll try.
We have had a huge number of doctor's appointments. K went to the eye doctor and was apprehensive, but ended up loving it and asking to go back. (Not for four years.) K got strep again. X had an eye infection. I had my postpartum checkup and then went back to get Mirena. Next week it's the dentist for K, and in the coming weeks I'll have a followup appointment with my OB and X will have another well baby appointment. We have a high-deductible insurance plan, so we have paid out thousands in health care costs already this year. Hopefully nearly all of that is behind us now.
I read "A Reason to Believe" by Deval Patrick, "The Reluctant Fundamentalist" by Mohsin Hamid, the Mysterious Benedict Society series by Trenton Lee Stewart, and "Nonviolent Communication: A Language of Life" by Marshall Rosenberg. I enjoyed all of them, and have more to say about some of them, but not right now.
We're preparing for a trip to California for a friend's wedding. Our first big trip with the two kids. My plan is to not worry about it, and to get an electronic toy to occupy K on the plane.
I hear a crying baby. More later.
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