I blame those lunatics at CERN

Nico and I had a few errands to run this afternoon, including a lunch thing with some people who hadn't met him yet. I won't deny that I like to show off my kid a bit, and dressed him accordingly in a hippie "going green" onesie, his cutest pair of pants, and my favorite pair of his warm socks. Because he views his carseat as an instrument of The Man, he protested mightily the entire time he was in it, from the dining room to the site of our lunch date. And then, because apparently he really wants that pony, he behaved like an angel through our hour-long lunch, a visit to the office where I interned in college, a quick stop at the library, and a trip to buy some cloth diapers.

But one of his socks didn't make the trip. They were both on his feet when I buckled him into his carseat, and ten minutes later when I got him out of the car, one sock was gone. I looked on both sides of his carseat base, in the carseat, even down in the crevices of his bunting. No sock. After lunch, I looked on the ground beside the car and checked behind the seat. No sock. I began to wonder if he'd kicked it off before we left the house, and when we got home I checked the garage, the path we'd taken through the backyard, the dining room, and even the places where the dog tends to put things that he takes. No sock.

The damn thing has utterly vanished. There's really only one explanation left. Testing at the Large Hadron Collider must've opened up a small black hole after all. Those guys at CERN totally owe us a new pair of tiny striped socks.

Boys

My favorite thing about these is that they weren't staged at all. I just walked into the nursery, and there they were.

Miles and miles

I know it's totally cliche to wail that my baby is growing so fast I can't keep up, but you guys, my baby is growing so. damn. fast.

two months
By the time I come to grips with having a two-month-old I have a nine-week-old and then ten weeks have gone by, and I'm sure it's going to be like this for the rest of my life.

nine weeks
Smiles are many and pretty easy to earn these days. There's not much in the world better than a big crinkle-eyed, open-mouthed, pure-joy baby grin, especially when it's meant for me. (And he has my dimple in his right cheek, hold me back!) He's even smiling at people he's just met now, which is a huge hit when we take him visiting.

I try not to get too hung up on milestones and dates, and haven't cracked my copy of What to Expect the First Year since Nico was a few weeks old. I'll admit to peeking at the developmental chart the hospital gave us, though, which I helpfully magneted to the side of the fridge when we brought him home. Of course I feel pleased every time I get to check something off, and with myself for not getting too Type A about it. (But the paper says he should be holding his head at least 45 degrees off the floor during Tummy Time. Find me a protractor!) In the past two weeks, he's begun to discover that he can make sounds other than crying, and it's awesome. No consonants or true babble yet, but there have been definite baby noises. Oh, and when we all went to visit our delightful chiropractor on Wednesday afternoon, he demonstrated a sudden talent for cheerful high-octave shrieks.

The other night I put him to bed with his feet toward the mobile, like always. When I woke up in the morning, he was still perfectly parallel to the sides of his crib, but rotated 180 degrees so that his head was toward the mobile and with both feet sticking out between the ankle snaps of his footie pajamas. He looked for all the world like he'd been placed there, and he was so perfectly aligned that I texted MB to ask if he'd moved Nico when he got up (he hadn't). This morning, he'd repeated the rotation, though he wasn't wearing an escapable pair of footies.

It was a gorgeous day on Wednesday, and I decided to follow through on my harebrained idea to take some photos of Nico in front of pretty flowers. The building next to my workplace has a small but very nice garden, and I was headed over there to meet up with Julia for a quick project meeting anyway, so I stuck the camera in the diaper bag and tossed the Bumbo seat and a quilt into the car. After my meeting, I put Nico on his quilt in front of a perfect bed of purple crocuses and started snapping away. But my poor winter-born baby...this was only the second time he's been outside without being strapped in his stroller or the front carrier, so he was all, "Sunlight? Fresh air? WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?" and in most of the pictures, his eyes are shut tight. I moved him to the Bumbo seat, and he opened his eyes but was highly suspicious of the whole operation.

Skepticism, with flowers
He was kind of hungry and sleepy, I reasoned, so I figured I'd try again with the lone clump of daffodils in our front yard once he'd eaten and was more alert. Same setup -- baby in Bumbo and then on quilt, strategically positioned in front of flowers. Same squinch-eyed results, with an added bonus. Because MB hasn't done this season's first mow yet, the grass is long enough that it was touching Nico's feet. I now have captured for posterity my small son with a very distinct "Grass?! WTF!" look on his face.



I tried to get this post finished on Wednesday, but didn't have a chance. And then Thursday came around and more stuff happened. (Skip over these next two paragraphs if you don't want to hear about breastfeeding.) Since he was born, we've been seeing the lactation consultants at the hospital for help with nursing. I came home from the hospital with instructions to nurse Nico every three hours, feed him a supplement of formula after he ate, and then pump for ten minutes. He started on 30 mL of supplemental formula or pumped breastmilk per feeding and was up to 242 mL of supplements per day when he was five weeks old. At that point, the LCs put us on track to start weaning Nico back from his supplements. For that, the goal changed to 8 - 10 nursing sessions per day and a reduction of no more than 30 mL of supplement every few days. After five weeks of recording every feeding, every dirty diaper, and every pumping session, he's down to an average daily bottle-given supplement of about 115 mL of breastmilk and hasn't had formula in two weeks.

At ten weeks, he weighs 13 pounds, 4.5 ounces and we've been officially declared normal nursers. The LC we saw yesterday took notes on Nico's progress and then said, "I'm kicking you guys out." No more weekly weight checks, no more worksheets. Just me and Nico and the milk we worked so hard for. Now that we're here, it's hard to remember what it felt like to pump for ten minutes and get 3 mL of milk. I can -- luckily -- barely recall the night in the hospital that he spent screaming with hunger and frustration while I wept onto his small stripey-hatted head. I knew something was wrong, had known something was wrong for a day and a half, but it was Sunday, none of the LCs were in the office, and we didn't know that there was an emergency beeper for the lactation department. The LCs came to see us first thing on Monday and got us started on the pumping and supplementing, and it didn't get easy right away, but here we are. We're normal. Even if he continues to take a four-ounce bottle of pumped milk every evening, he's still normal. I am so happy to be normal. Every time I look at the chub on his thighs, I feel proud of how far we've come.


And because my child is clearly a genius and knows exactly how the game is played, he laughed for the first time Thursday afternoon, at my parents' house, while my dad was making faces at him.

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Happy Egguinox

Last Saturday, Nico and I went to a cookout that my cousin Amethyst hosted to celebrate her daughter Custard's 10th birthday. My cousins had heard that at 12:32 PM on the Spring Equinox, it's possible to stand an egg on end. Sunny managed to get the egg balanced just so, and it stood there for a few minutes until Custard jarred the table and the egg fell over. After that, Sunny couldn't replicate the feat. I had heard the egg / equinox thing before, and our experience seemed to corroborate the tale. But, being a science nerd and someone who is in charge of teaching science to kids, I always triple-check my sources before talking about anything vaguely sciencey in order to avoid looking like a dumbass. Turns out this is a good thing, because the balancing egg story is a myth. It's possible to balance an egg on its end any day of the year, if you're talented enough. Click here for a cool article explaining the whole thing.

Even though the myth is busted, I think we can all agree it's still pretty impressive that she managed to balance an egg on a folding table set up on a deck on a breezy day.

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World's smallest crankiest leprechaun

By the numbers

8: weeks since Nico's birthday

12: pounds of baby at this week's checkup

24: approximate inches of hair gone

29: my age today

4: friends who joined us for cake

2: hours spent playing an epic game of Chinese Checkers

9: people having dinner at the Thai restaurant

1: hilarious photo of my kid (taken by evilducky)

The master contemplates his first move.

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Hair today, gone tomorrow

I have an appointment to get my hair cut at 10:00 tomorrow morning. I haven't had my hair cut since the week after I got married, back in 2004. Before that, my last haircut was in 1993. Nineteen ninety three. So I've had two haircuts between the ages of 12 and almost-29, and OMFG I am nervous. I have no clue what I want, so I'm going to let the stylist recommend something, with the caveats that it can't require a flat iron or hairdryer to maintain and I don't want bangs. NERVOUS.




And, after:


It's not as short as I expected, but I suppose I can have more taken off later if I want. This is after it was dried with a diffuser, sculpted a tiny bit with a curling iron, and then treated with Moroccan oil and a fancy-pants gel for curls. In other words, it'll probably never look this good again.

Nicosaurus Rex

Our friends H & C gave us this super cute dinosaur outfit at Nico's baby shower. I think it's supposed to be a Halloween costume, but it makes a perfect warm suit for walks on sunny but chilly days.

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Minutiae

Holy shit, it's March? How did this happen, and how can we appeal? In the meantime, have some loosely connected bullet points and baby pictures!

>> There's an ice cream shop near our house advertising a "giant cupcake -- serves 12!" I'm pretty sure that's just called a cake.

one month old
>> My maternity leave is half over, a fact that I can't think about too much lest I feel like I might cry. Right now Nico's sleeping on my shoulder, and I don't have anything pressing to do or anywhere to be...and I hate to think that in a few short weeks we may not have time for these long naps anymore. Not to mention being away from him all day, gaaaaah.

>> On Saturday there was a funeral Mass I wanted / needed to attend. MB was teaching and my mom had to work, so I chanced it and took Nico with me. I bet he'll never be that good in church again. He took the two small bottles of milk I'd brought without shouting about it first, and then passed out on my shoulder and slept until it was over. I was so grateful. That evening we took Nico out with us to meet MB's work friend and his wife for dinner, and he slept through that, too. It's quite possible that I owe him a pony.

How hilarious is this getup? He looks like an
old man getting ready to mow the yard.

>>Nico is growing so fast it's ridiculous. See this cute little outfit?

(modeled by six-day-old Nico)
On Sunday I tried to dress him in that puppy onesie, and the sleeves were about two inches too short. Then that night I put him in a really cute pair of 0-3 month size footie pajamas after his bath and his legs were too long. I'm so very glad that he's thriving and growing and healthy, but it's killing me all the same.

>> Speaking of his bath, it was only his third tub bath ever because we don't want his skin to get really dried out in the winter air. We have one of those plastic baby tubs with the little hammock thing for Nico to sit in, and when I first put him in the tub with his butt down in the water, he started crying. But it was just the shock of it, because after a few seconds he stopped crying and was just totally digging it. He doesn't coo yet, but he has this painfully adorable interested expression when he's really into something. He was just totally loving the bath, and I thought about how much I love baths, and then I realized how awesome it is that he's literally learning how fantastic baths are right in front of my eyes. To him, all these things he's experiencing are completely brand new and wonderful, and it feels like an incredible gift to be able to watch him as he learns about the world.

>> And then this morning, Nico was chilling on a blanket on the floor while I pumped milk for him, and when I said, "Hey, Nico, whatcha doing?" he smiled at me. Like, totally on purpose. And holy crap, y'all, that was an insanely great moment. He didn't do it again all day, until MB got home from work, and then he smiled at MB, too. Way to play it fair, kid! Just yesterday MB said he sometimes worries he's missing out on a lot of Nico's smallhood, so I am pleased he got a smile as well.

>> The pregnancy books don't include any warnings about this, so I'm just going to come right out and tell you that baby farts are often just as loud and offensive as adult farts. The more you know.

Somebody has an opinion!
>> Now that my restrictions are lifted and I can do laundry by myself again, I'm finally going to try some Bum Genius cloth diapers on Nico. I'm slightly nervous, having seen the volume of poo this tiny kid can produce, but I'm going to give it a shot. I'll let you know how it goes (as if most of you care...ha! ;) ).

>> Since I spend a huge part of each day sitting on the couch feeding Nico, I've been using the time to finally watch Bones on DVD. My sister loaned me the first four seasons, and I pretty much ripped through them. I watched the last episode of season four yesterday, and now I'm on the lookout for another good series to watch. It has to be available on DVD, and it would be nice if there were at least 2 seasons. Ultimately the local library will also have to have a copy available since we don't have Netflix, but they have a pretty good selection. Any recommendations?

Six weeks old, napping on MB.
>> I managed to prop up a book while Nico nursed for the first time today, so I may actually be able to read again instead of being limited to watching TV or surfing the internet via my phone while he eats. I started The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, which is the March book for the Book Lushes. I've never once been invited to join a book club until now, so I'm super pumped about this one. It doesn't hurt that a bunch of my very favorite blog people are doing it, too.

>> One more thing, and then I think I need to stop. Does anyone have any really good oatmeal cookie recipes? I tried making these and even though the texture was fantastic, they were really bland. Then I made the oatmeal scotchies recipe from the back of the butterscotch chips bag, and they were tasty but a bit too crispy. And so, the search continues.

Oh, Lord, where has my tiny baby gone?
January 17, two days old

Pretending I know what I'm talking about

I guest posted about Olympic figure skating over on Draft Day Suit. Check it out if you're so inclined!

More cowbell!

One of the most difficult consequences of a c-section - at least for me - is the weight restriction. Upon checking out of the hospital, I was firmly told that I wasn't to lift anything heavier than 10 pounds, including the carseat carrier with Nico in it, for six weeks. At first the most annoying thing about the restriction was having to ask for help with the laundry. Even after I felt fit enough to risk a few extra trips up and down stairs, I had to get someone else to carry the baskets of clothes to the basement for me.

Of course, the restriction also means I can't go out with Nico unless another person is present to carry his seat. MB has been great about taking us out on errands once or twice a week, but not being able to run out and pick up a gallon of milk or a library book without complex strategizing has been an adjustment. I suppose I could carry Nico's empty seat out to the car, then carry Nico out separately, but that just seems like a lot of work when I don't really have anywhere pressing to be most of the time. Plus, upon arriving at my destination, getting the stroller in and out of the car would definitely break the ten-pound rule. I'm very lucky to have parents who live nearby and are happy to help. Dad has driven over several times to pick up Indy for playdates with their dogs, and Mom is going with us to a babywearing class on Thursday and my six-week followup appointment with my OBGYN on Friday. And at that appointment, I'm hoping the doctor will lift the weight restriction so that all of this finagling is behind us.

The first week or two after Nico was born, I was too sore to be interested in going out much. Besides, he was eating every hour and a half, so we didn't really have much time. Once I started feeling better, the weather turned snowy and inhospitably cold, so that kept me from wanting to go out for another week or two. Lately, though, the cabin fever has started to set in, in a big way. Last Monday, my work friend Julia sprang us for lunch, which was awesome since I love Christopher Walken as much as the next girl, but I need a lot more than cowbell for this fever. Then yesterday my friend S came by and met us for another lunch out. Woohoo! Of course, each time I had my lunch date carry Nico out in his carseat. S and I went out the back door, and I guess it was the first time Indy had seen anyone other than MB carrying Nico in his seat. He was absolutely beside himself. Usually once he knows I'm leaving, he'll wait at the top of the back steps and watch me go. But when S stepped out the back door with Nico, Indy darted past me and placed himself in front of her on the sidewalk. He hovered there, shifting from foot to foot, whining and looking from me to the carseat, me to the carseat, like, Dude. Are you just going to let her walk away? ALERT, ALERT, SHE IS TAKING THE BABY! I finally convinced him to go back inside so we could leave, but I tell you what. You have NEVER seen a dog as relieved as Indy was when we came back from lunch and S returned Nico. He was all, Oh, thank God. I won't have to tell MB that I lost the kid. My house dog privileges won't be revoked!

A mother for a month

Nico is a month old now, a fact that catches me off guard at times and scrambles my brain a bit. Not too long ago he was still inside my belly, and before I had the chance to get completely used to the idea that he was out and a newborn, he wasn't a newborn anymore. Each day seems a mirror of all the days that came before as we move through the rhythm of the hours -- feeding, use the breastpump, change a diaper, fit in a chore or two or eat a sandwich while Nico naps, then start over with another feeding. But when I look back on the days that are gone, I can see how fast he's changing, and it both thrills me and makes me feel like crying.

Nursing was not easy for us at the beginning. My milk was very late and Nico lost too much weight while we were still in the hospital. He was so frustrated that he would scream and scream and refuse to latch. We've come a long, long way since then. It's not always easy, but it's so much easier than it was. At a month old, Nico mostly nurses well, a relief and a blessing. We started taking him out on errands right away; I think he made his first trip to Target at nine days old. He only tolerates his carseat when it's in a moving car or stroller, but usually the drive to the store is long enough to put him to sleep for the duration of the errand. He is not a fan of tummy time, not remotely. I still make him do it, though probably not as often as I should. This week we got out his giant playmat, and he seems to like it. He is also learning to like his swing, after weeks of hating it, and sometimes lets me put him in his bouncy chair long enough to eat a snack or wash the dishes. Soon he'll be grabbing at toys and trying to roll over.

Because he lost so much weight at the hospital -- he was born at 8 lbs 9.5 oz and discharged at 7 lbs 7 oz -- getting him to gain weight has been at the forefront since we brought him home. Luckily, I was able to focus on making sure he was getting good feedings rather than worrying too much about the numbers. I think this kept me from noticing how much he was growing week to week. I watched his cheeks and skinny thighs for signs of plumping, but didn't realize just how much he'd changed until I compared these two photos:

6 days old
29 days old

He's still so, so small, but day to day things happen. The socks that were a bit too big when my mom knitted them for him are now a perfect fit. The sleeves of one of my favorite onesies are getting too short. When I sit him upright on my lap, he holds his head up for longer stretches of time. And just last night, I discovered he's grown too long for his two cutest newborn-sized pairs of jammies. But he's still so, so small. At the end of each day, I carry Nico up the stairs to our bedroom. If I'm lucky I get to brush my teeth and wash my face, and then I swaddle him in a soft flannel blanket and lay him across the Boppy pillow on my lap. Head toward one hip and feet toward the other, he nurses in nearly the same position he was in on the inside just before he was born. He's allowed 20 minutes on each side, and at the end he usually slips to sleep, lying limp and heavy in my arms. I might hold him forever if I could, or at least freeze time for a little while, so that he'd stay small and sweet-smelling and serene for just a bit longer.

Four weeks old

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Baby photo driveby

I have so much to say, but every time I think about writing, the kid does this:


Luckily he also does quite a bit of this, so I'm sure I'll find some balance soon:


I feel like I spend half my time feeding him and maybe a quarter of the time snuggling him while he sleeps, changing him, and smelling his fuzzy head. He's pretty irresistible, really. And apparently I'm still supposed to devote some time to boring stuff like eating, showering, and washing the dishes...what's up with that?


Quick updates:

MB decided he wants to keep the baby anonymous online, and I think he's right. There are already enough markers on this blog that someone who was really looking could find me and recognize me, and I don't want to make it worse. I love the name we chose for him and I hate not sharing it, but safety first. Of course, this leaves me with a dilemma of what to call him when I talk about him. "The baby" doesn't seem right, and while "the brachiopod" was a fabulous nickname for him while he was in utero, I don't feel like it'll grow well with him. I thought about using one of the names from our shortlist that we rejected, but that doesn't feel right either since those names are not him. In the end, I think I've decided to call him Nico. It has one of his initials in it, which I like, so we'll see if it sticks.

Nico is a real boy now, with a real belly button and everything. I'm looking forward to his first real bath in the baby tub.

I have a lot of things to say about breastfeeding, but that's going to need an entire post of its own. For now, I'll just say that the entire process of feeding my baby is both wonderful and really goddamn hard.

Thus far, Indy / Nico relations are going well. Indy is sweetly curious about the baby without being too pushy. If Nico gets too screamy, Indy will go and ring his bell to be let outside, but other than that he doesn't seem too perturbed about the baby's presence. I feel pretty guilty that the weather plus my c-section restrictions have prevented Indy from getting any walks, though. Poor pooch.

Nico hasn't managed to pee on his own head yet, though I hear that's inevitable. He did, however, manage to pee on the nursery wall twice on the day he turned a week old, and he pooped out of his diaper for the first time yesterday. Where's the spot in the baby book for those milestones?


Here he is last Friday, two weeks old:


Here he is yesterday, either deep in contemplation or trying to tell me that I stink:


Here he is looking really goofy (definitely my child):


And wearing what MB mockingly calls his "manpris," a newborn outfit I couldn't resist putting on him one more time even though he's clearly too lanky to wear it now: