The Five Stages of Bath Time

Confusion

What's this?

Anger

DO NOT LIKE !!!

Bargaining

If I stop screaming, can I get out?

Acceptance

Actually, this is not so bad.

Sleepiness

Zzzzzzzzz

His or Hers?

From the first smudges on the ultrasound, I've suspected that Leo would look more like Aaron than me.  As I held him for the first time, even in my exhausted, endorphin-addled state, I could tell that he had his father's nose.  Since that time, I've heard countless people say, "Oh my god, he looks just like Aaron!"  Which is a wonderful thing, because he's a good looking guy.

Still, I held out hope that Leo had gotten something of mine.  Maybe he had my chin or my face shape.  Really, I rationalized, it doesn't make sense to compare his infant face to our adult faces.  Really, the only way to tell would be to compare our newborn faces to his.

So, we rang up the respective grandparents and got our own baby pictures.

For the purpose of comparison, here's a face shot of Leo.

And here's Aaron.

My response when I saw this:  "Oh, that's freaky."  It was more than the nose.  It was really the eyes.  That sealed it for me.  This was Aaron's child.  I was just the oven. Oh, well better luck next time.

But then, I saw my pics.

By god, I think he does have my chin.  That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

Really, I think the only conclusion that can be drawn is that all babies look basically the same.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Bassinet

Last night's goal was to get Leo to sleep in the bassinet by our bed, so I spent a healthy part of the day reading message boards about how to get a kid to sleep somewhere the kid does not want to sleep (because all parenting decisions should be made based on the consensus of internet strangers with bad grammar).  The basic approach was as follows:
          Step 1) Get the kid cleaned, fed, burped, and tightly swaddled
          Step 2) Soothe the kid to drowsiness, but not sleep
          Step 3) Put kid in bassinet
          Step 4) Continue soothing, but do not pick up, until sleep is achieved
          Step 5) Cry tears of sweet relief

We worked our way up to Step 3, then I set my alarm for the next feeding / pumping time.  Then came Step 4.  And maybe it was the fact that he'd taken a solid four hour nap that afternoon or just the insane night owl genes he inherited from Aaron, but no amount of singing or shushing or head stroking got him anywhere near sleep.  In fact, it seemed to be pissing him off.  And the longer we tried this, the more pissed off he became.  Still, I did not pick him up, because every time he closed his eyes and went quiet, that little flame of hope ignited.  This time, he'd fall asleep.

Then, as if there was any question how Leo felt about this endeavor, he took a very noisy dump.  Well, that's one way to get picked up.

"Okay," I thought.  "I give up.  You win.  We'll go back to the Funbags of Death and hope for the best."

So, we got up to work on the diaper, and after I'd changed him, I put him in the crib in his room.  So far, this has been something of a holding area, a place to put him down for a few minutes while I worked on something else.

But, when I came back after dealing with the diaper, he was asleep.  And not just kind of asleep.  Konked-out, down-for-the-count, watch-carefully-to-make-sure-he's-still-breathing asleep.  And, for a moment, I thought.  "Oh no.  I can't leave him here.  He's too little to sleep in here by himself.  He needs to be in the bassinet.  Close to me."  It was a familiar argument.  I'd heard moms make it in various iterations for years.  It was why  toddlers couldn't go to daycare, kids couldn't go to sleep-away camp, and teenagers couldn't study abroad.  And, for a moment, I understood exactly how they felt.

Then, my need for sleep took over.  "Are you crazy?  SLEEPING child is SLEEPING!  Why would you move SLEEPING child back to the place where he was NOT SLEEPING?"

The need for sleep had a point.  I went back to my room, and left Leo in his, and we both slept.

Retreating with sidekick Pooh Bear to the Fortress of Solitude 

2 Week Update: We Didn't Starve the Baby!

Child protective services-- take the afternoon off!  We went in for our two week pediatrician's appointment, and Leo passed with flying colors. Our parenting has proven totally adequate!

He's now up to 8 pounds 13 oz., getting back to his birth weight and then some.  On a related note, our son is a bottomless void of ravenous hunger.  It is absolutely all I can do to keep up.  I shudder to think of what the food consumption will look like when he's a teenager.  We probably shouldn't get any delicious pets.

Even the cucumbers aren't safe!

Unfortunately, she also mentioned that we shouldn't let him sleep face down on our chests for long periods.  Although falling asleep on two warm pillows that smell like your favorite food sounds divine, it's also a smothering risk.  So, we're going to work on getting him to sleep in his bassinet.  We may be in for a long night.

Here's hoping.

Meet the Cousins

Yesterday, Aaron went back to work.  Fortunately, my cousin, Melanie, and her kids, Darren, Paige, and Sydney, were able to come by to keep us company.  After a quick meet and greet, we got some sandwiches and cookies for lunch, the headed out the playground across the street from our house, where the kids demonstrated their acrobatic skills. 

Paige

Darren

Melanie and Sydney

Leo was very impressed.

                                                                              Or, he would have been, if he had stayed awake.  

Where's Sockie?

Leo has developed the charming (read: baffling) habit of losing exactly one sock at almost every feeding.  Never both.  Just one.  When I see that tiny bare foot, I look down at his sweet face and ask "Where did your sockie go?"  (I know I could just call it a sock, but anything that small automatically gets an "-ie" at the end of it.  It's the logical extension of the boot / bootie principle.)  In reply, he gives me one of these:

Which translates roughly to:  "Not my problem."

So, then Aaron and I get to play another round of Where's Sockie, which is like Where's Waldo with fewer witty illustrations and many more couch cushions.

Now, you can play along at home.  Where's Sockie?

Seriously, where is it?  

Five Years Ago Today

On our five year anniversary, some of our favorite moments.

And the best one.  Completely candid, swear to god.

Tonight, we'll celebrate with a pie.

One Newly Minted Bellybutton

When we went to the pediatrician's office earlier this week, she pointed out that he had a nice, thick, healthy cord.  I had no idea that was even a thing. Even so, when she said it, I was like "Yeah, that is a pretty awesome cord, isn't it?"

Well, the cord is no more.  But it made a pretty quality bellybutton.

The Most Interesting Newborn in the World

I don't always sleep.

But when I do . . .

I prefer boobies.

Before and After

Before

After

Before

After

The Birth: Play-By-Play

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

2:00 AM:  I've either just peed myself, or my waters broke.
2:01 AM: Yup.  Waters broke.
3:00 AM:  Leave the house with a towel, a trash bag, and enough luggage for a week.
3:05 AM: Stumble into the Cambridge Birth Center.  Get checked out.
3:30 AM: Aaron goes into the office to get his work computer.  I go back to bed.  I win.
7:30 AM: It's pouring rain. Check in to Cambridge Hospital.
8:00 AM: First dose of misoprostol to induce labor.
9:00 AM: Nothing
9:30 AM: Still nothing.
10:00 AM: Oooh!  Breakfast!
11:00 AM: More nothing.
12:00 PM: Second dose of misoprostol.
1:00 PM: Watching Simpsons Season 8.
2:00 PM:  The whole damn thing.
2:30 PM: Still nothing.
3:00 PM: Weather's cleared up.  Go for a last pregnant waddle around the neighborhood to get things moving.  Stop by The Biscuit, my coffeehouse of choice, and get my last green iced tea as a free woman.
3:30 PM:  Climb five flights of stairs, for christ's sake.
4:00 PM: Still nothing.
4:30 PM: Order a cheeseburger and fries from S&S in Inman Square.  It's okay.  Who in their right mind gets a cheeseburger from a Jewish deli? Should have gone with the reuben.
5:00 PM:  Start pitocin.
8:00 PM: Things start getting interesting.
9:00 PM:  Really interesting.
11:30 PM:  Move from the bed to the bathtub.
11:31 PM:  Aaron mans the shower wand, hosing me down like some kind of marine mammal.  As a result, I spend a lot of time semi-hallucinating about blue whales.  Trippy.

Thursday, September 6, 2012
1:30 AM: Push!
2:18 AM:  Leo is born.
2:30 AM:  They ask me what I want to eat.  I packed a bar of my favorite fancy-pants mexican chocolate for exactly this purpose.  And I have forgotten all about it.  Instead, I opt for a hospital-issue grape popsicle. It is awesome.