Year Two

Any post that requires this much thought is bound to be late and overdue so I apologize. 

My friend once told me (pre-Jack) that it took over a year for her to feel normal again after having a child.  I scoffed at her and thought about what a lunatic she must be and just forgot about it.  But now, on the other side, I think I have to agree with her.  And it’s not normal in the physical sense, but mentally and emotionally.  I remember the first year (mainly the first 6 months) was so emotional and so dramatic with so many ups and downs.  Year two?  Somewhat even keel.  Sappy tv shows no longer send me off the deep end and the thought of taking Jack to a restaurant doesn’t send me into panic mode.  (Second half of year two on that one though…)  I feel somewhat capable and confident with just me and Jack hitting the town.  Whether it’s trips to Target or an outing to a museum or a playdate at the park…I can rest assured that we will both make it out alive with no major meltdowns.  That confidence surely only arrived with year two. 

I truly can’t imagine a better age than 1 to 2.  Adorable, cute, learning new things...but not talking back yet and very little tantrums.  It’s almost impossible to sum up everything because they change so much from 1 to 2.  Jack's mobility allowed me to put away the Baby Bjorn and go to for a walk while holding his little hand.  His communication (even pre-verbal) allowed him to tell me when he wanted a banana or squeezie or milk or juice or outside or inside.  I can’t tell you how much happier that made me AND Jack. 

But what really made this year just, spectacular, is all the learning he did.  It’s truly a miracle to watch a little brain soak up every single thing he sees.  As I’ve said before, Jack really is amazing when it comes to nerdy school skills.  So to watch him go from counting to three to counting to 120 and then counting down in reverse to zero is awesome.  Listening to him pick up the Italian numbers in about an hour from his Zia Julie was astounding.  Hearing him practice his Spanish in his crib by himself at night just makes me smile.  Somehow after thousands of readings of books over that first 18 months, he somehow not only memorized them, but started to learn how to read many of the simple words.  With a little encouragement, he easily could read 30 more words.  He is so excited to read the stop signs we see or the “no parking” signs.  The “open” signs on the stores are also fun.  But counting is his true love.  Man oh man, this kid will and does count everything.  Trashcans at the park, aisles in the grocery store, blocks in his tower, or houses on the street.  He is so proud that he knows our address (and Grandma’s address).  And I am proud of him.

 

But I can’t let this post be all ridiculous praise about his skills.  In an effort to temper that, I’ll talk about my little Jack’s personality.  He is the happiest little kid at home.  He loves our house and plays independently so well.  He knows and loves all of his grandparents and aunts and uncles.  He will giggle and laugh and bounce all around the house.  It’s his larger social skills that could use some work.  Like his mother, he is pretty shy and introverted.  Won’t sing in class even though I know he knows the words to the songs.  Won’t speak up in story time when the teacher asks what animal says “moo”.  That’s normal though.  But like his father, he would MUCH rather play by himself and wants the rest of the kids to get the heck off the playground.  (I say like his father because John claims he’s like this.  Truthfully I think my husband is a pretty social, affable guy.)  Jack does okay with the small group of friends in his playgroup that he’s known for over a year.  But get him in a big crowd with everyone climbing all over the park play equipment and he throws a tantrum and runs to mommy and doesn’t want to play.  Just too many kids in his space.   Right now at 2 and 2.5, it seems like some of his friends are finally starting to “play with each other”.  Before they were playing along side each other but now the kids are starting to pair off and really enjoy playing with each other.  Not Jack though.  This of course leads his mom to a typical freak out about how he will be friend-less in high school and not be invited to any parties, etc.  Typical ridiculous, irrational stuff I know.  But, truthfully, I don’t care if he gets all A’s in school if he doesn’t have any friends.  And, while I type all this, I know he will have friends.  It just will be a little harder for him than for his extroverted outgoing playmates.  And “harder” sucks.  “Harder” is what you want to shield your kid from. 

John is the one who always calms me down when I have crazy worries or tough days as a stay at home mom.  He is always there to remind me that Jack is an amazing, special, angel of a boy.  I know he's had a hard time working 7 days a week for the past 5 months or so, but Jack still knows him really well and misses him when he goes to work.  They've worked out an adorable morning goodbye routine which includes a high five, fist pump and "i love you".  So cute.

I have loved Year Two.  I've loved our playgroup and Jack's little group of friends and my accompanying new mom friends.  I've loved hearing him copy what I say and then slowly forming his own thoughts and sentences.  I've loved our trips to San Diego, Pennsylvania, and New York, and the parks and the kid museum and even the store where he points out the carrots, apples, and broccoli.  

So happy birthday to our lil' Jack Nunzio.  He is a devilishly handsome little sandy-haired kid.  He loves playing outside and running free.  He's shy in big groups but loves hanging out with his mommy and daddy.  My favorite sound is his laughing and giggling and my favorite part of our day is after his bath when he wraps his arms around my neck for one last hug before bedtime.  I can't wait for Year Three.  (But please stay just as sweet!)

Get involved

 

Well, I feel like I've slowed down my blogging a little.  I certainly didn't mean to.  It's just that I can only work on my computer when Jack is asleep.  So that means I don't open my computer until 8 or 8:30pm and then I have about two or three hours until bedtime.  That sounds like a long time so I don't know what in the heck I'm doing but the time sure does fly.

One thing I've been doing is getting more involved in my Moms club.  I'm sure I've mentioned the fact that I'm in a club here locally for moms who are stay-at-home or work from home.  It's a national non-profit organization with chapters in different cities.  I guess one reason it's worked for me is because there's a structure to meeting people.  You have to pay dues (a very small amount) but it means that everyone wants to be there and wants to participate.  I was never going to be the person who would make new mom friends at the local Starbucks or the park.  But within this club I got to join a smaller 15-person playgroup with kids all Jack's age.  And I got welcome phone calls and emails from the President of the club and my assigned "big sister".  Really, the only unfortunate comparison I can make is probably to a sorority.  I guess I shouldn't say "unfortunate"...it's just that I'm clearly not a sorority type of girl.  OBVIOUSLY.

It keeps us busy though because we have our playgroup once a week.  And then there are activities for the whole club (about 115 members) about once or twice a week as well.   But back to why I haven't been blogging so much.  I've gotten more involved in the club so it's taking up a little bit of my "post-Jack bedtime" time.  First I took over the newsletter coordinator position so every month I put together our 20 page newsletter.  I volunteered because I knew it would be totally something I like doing.  Like a dork, I love doing the layouts and the graphics and working with fonts (so many different fonts!!).  But, man, it certainly does take some time.  I'm sure if I wasn't such a perfectionist and into making it look good it would take less time but, alas, it is what it is.

Then a week or two ago I got a call from the president (not THAT President, just a nice mother of two who lives a few blocks away) saying that one of the executive board members dropped out and would I become the new treasurer.  Sure, I thought.  Why not?  Well, I'm sure it'll be fun for the next year but it is certainly a commitment.  Board training retreat later this month, monthly board meetings, my name on a bank account and handling all the money...yikes.  But I'm happy to be busy doing something.  It's nice to have a job.

So, that was a REALLY long way of saying, I'm sorry I've been neglecting the blog a little.  I'll try to pick up the pace because, god knows, the internet needs even more pictures of Jack being cute.  :)

Happy 4th of July!

Happy 4th of July everyone!  It just so happens that today (okay, yesterday...) marks the release of the last movie I worked on pre-Jack.  A few days ago I went to the Cast and Crew screening and got to see the movie.  It has some flaws but I think it looks spectacular and the actor playing Spidey does a great job.  It's nice to be part of such a large-scale movie with so many moving parts and crew members and know that, in some tiny way, I (and the awesome production office) helped it all run smoothly.  

Going to the screening was weird in a way because I hadn't seen any "work people" since Jack was born.  But it was so good to see everyone.  Of course, the inevitable questions about when I was coming back to work came and I answered them with some amount of tact I think.  Being there did make me miss work though.  Everyone understood that I can't come back to work if I want to see Jack at all Monday through Friday, but it's just a bummer that my career has no wiggle room for families.  Oh well...at least I love hanging out with Jack and I recognize truly how fast time flies and how quickly he's growing up.  But in a few years hopefully he'll love watching the movie and be excited that his mom's name is in the credits.  

Five for Friday: Best things about hosting grandparents

In honor of my in-laws who are in town and staying with us, here is my list of top 5 best things about having some of Jack's grandparents in town... (Obviously excluding one of the best things, their company. But that's boring.)

5.  I can shower every morning.

4.  Coffee is made and smelling delicious when I get up in the morning.

3.  I can run errands and go shopping without a squirming unhappy toddler in the cart.

2. If Jack is whining and grumpy I can walk away and leave him with Grammy.  :)

1.  Babysitter for fun nights out!
     Like last night when I got to go to a fun dinner/drinks with about 30 fellow moms.  In honor of mother's day we even had a raffle and I won something!  Very exciting.  Here is a pic from outside the private room they put us in so we wouldn't disturb the normal (and much quieter) diners.

SAHM

 

 Nowadays on the internet there is an acronym for everything and that includes "Stay at Home Mom" or SAHM. It's been over a year since I've had that job title and I'm finally starting to get used to it. People constantly ask me if I miss work and I realize I've probably never written about it. But do I? Not really. I liked my job and loved making movies but hanging out with Jack just can't compare. He's just as needy as some of the actors and producers I've encountered but at least I love him and he laughs at all my jokes. I love being around for every smile, every laugh, every new discovery, every new sound, and every first. That being said, being a SAHM is harder that working in some ways. I'd say that the hours are longer but, truthfully, they're not longer than working on a movie. But they are more tiring. There's no sitting, there's no surfing the internet, there's no leisurely lunches, and there are no private bathroom breaks.  And there's no real validation.  I know that I was pretty good at my job and sometimes people were even nice enough to tell me so.  Being a good SAHM?  There's not many ways to measure good vs. bad and there's not a ton of people telling you that you're the best they've worked with.  (Though my husband kindly tries to tell me that.)

 One of the main things I was worried about when I decided to stop working was losing my connection to other adults. Without any adults to interact with, the days can be long and draining. But, though it's taken a little while, I think I finally have a good little network of new mom friends. Truthfully, I haven't had to make new friends in a long time. My friends now I've either had since elementary/middle school or since I first moved to LA twelve years ago. So it's been a weird experience having to, in a way, start over. But joining the local MOMS Club has been a great way to make friends and get involved in activities. Every month the club and our new friends fill up our calendar.

   

 I don't know if people think Jack and I just hang out all day, but usually we have an activity or organized play date every day of the week. Which is great and makes the week go by faster.

So I guess the biggest pleasant surprise about being a SAHM has been the new friends that I've made.  The friends that now bring over cookies when Jack and I are sick, who invite us over to dinner because they know John is working late, and who text us whenever they're headed to the park or the zoo.  Yesterday I had 12 moms and 12 toddlers in our pool for Jack's playgroup and I finally thought, hey, I'm really a stay at home mom.  We're doing this and we are all in this crazy situation together.  Maybe we'll even survive it. *edited to add: I forgot. The one thing I really miss about working? The paycheck. :)

"Mama"

So, I know that every other mom with a 13 month-old had this moment about five months ago, but, nonetheless, I'm excited. As you know, Jack is a late talker. He doesn't say much. But a few days ago he said "mama" for the first time. Of course he did it in sort of distress so I don't know if it'll happen again for like 4 months, but I'll take it. He was in the bath and overtired at the end of the day. He had tried to get up and slipped in the bath and was just over it and crying and whining. So he reached out his arms and said "mama!" It was awesome. At first I couldn't believe he had said it because he hadn't even said the "ma" consonant before. But there it was. Of course, he hasn't said it again since then so it's a good thing I can remember it so clearly. :)

Year One

Our little boy is one year old. I've been putting off this post because, while I'm fine at blabbing about Jack in little daily posts, I feel like this entry requires a little bit of thought. And I'm not very good at thoughtful, quality writing. I certainly don't have the writing skills to sum up something as complex as our first year of parenthood. So I apologize in advance.

A year ago (approximately), John and I were driving to the hospital to "check in" for my induction. It was not how I envisioned the birth going but, looking back, who really cares? As my friend told me when I was 9 months pregnant, "I spent so much time thinking about and planning the birth and I should have been worrying about the following 6 months." Ain't that the truth. I know Jack's birth was painful but, at this point, I can barely remember it. And I've seemingly blocked out the first 8 weeks or so. Not completely of course. I remember our little alien being with his jerky hands and alert eyes. But the details of the "dark days" are hazy. I remember some sort of adult diaper thing the first 24 hours. I remember pain. I remember barely being able to walk around the block the first week. I remember being tired and not sleeping. I remember crying because breastfeeding wasn't as easy as I thought it would be. But it really is all a blur.

Of course what I'll remember most about Jack's first year is sleep. Or lack thereof. And it's really such a boring topic that I hate to even go into it. People tell you that you won't sleep. They'll joke to get as much sleep as you can before the baby comes. I shrugged it off and thought that I was prepared for all of those sleepless nights. I read the popular sleep books and I had it down. You coddle them for the "4th trimester" (the first 3 months) and then you merely put them down drowsy but awake and they learn to fall asleep by themselves. And then sleep 12 continuous hours a night. Man, how wrong I was. So so so wrong. I learned quickly that every baby is different. And John and I truly experienced the torture of sleep deprivation. While a lot of things are blurry, I can clearly remember how miserable we were when we were only sleeping about 2 or 3 hours a night. For an hour at a time. So many hours bouncing on a ball, rocking him in our arms, pacing the house, and, my favorite, sitting straight up in bed with him because that's the only way he'd sleep. It was the worst I'd ever felt and the closest I've ever been to insanity I think. I'm so happy it's over.

Just as I thought I knew everything about sleep, I was wrong about so many other things. I had read so much and taken classes on breastfeeding and yet it didn't go as planned. I heard that post-partum was hard and that there would be a rollercoaster of emotions. As a normally pretty stable person, I really wasn't prepared for the highs and lows. I told myself we would never let our baby cry it out and then, 5 miserable sleepless months later, we did. Pre-baby, I couldn't believe that moms let their children out of the house with food all over their face, dried prunes on their onesies, and sand in their hair. I've done all those things. I figured I wouldn't be that mom who was at the grocery store with spit-up stains down her sweater but hell if that's not me three days out of the week. I didn't think I'd let my well-behaved future baby ever meltdown in a restaurant and throw food all over the ground. Oops. I've done that too. I never ever thought that I'd have to stop watching certain TV shows and movies. I mean, for crying out loud, that's my business. I love tv and films. But, damn, both John and I have had to turn off shows that feature sick children or kidnapping or just plain sad kid stories. I am happy to say that the one thing I've been successful at is showering every day. I am fanatical about that and I've been able to keep it up. My husband is happy about that I'm sure.

And about my husband. I didn't fully comprehend how cool it would be to see him become a father but it's been pretty neat. He's a natural (as you've witnessed if you know him) and I've loved watching him with Jack. I'm lucky that he got to spend time with him right after he was born so they had a chance to bond. I think it's really paid off now because Jack has no problem staying with daddy while I go off for some much needed alone time (read: buying shirts at Target). A lot of people warn you that a baby creates a wedge in a marriage and I've certainly seen that with a lot of couples. But I can safely say that we're lucky that that hasn't happened. We love our little family of three. Life is certainly different with a kid but, at the same time, Jack has pretty effortlessly folded into our lives and house and our friends and family.

But, that being said, we couldn't have predicted how much parenthood would change us. They tell you it will but you can't understand. Which is why now I don't bother telling pregnant friends anything about it. They won't listen and can't comprehend it. But I'll talk to them in a few months when they get to the other side. Because it really is like crossing over. Parenthood is the best thing in the world but also the worst. I've never felt worry to this degree. Just the deepest darkest pit of worry. About everything. The smallest everyday things and the bigger picture things that are at least 15 years away (hopefully). But the joy is pretty intense. My very wise aunt told me that it (childbirth and parenting) is the last true miracle left in life. And with iPhones and DVRs and Facebook making everything easy and accessible, it is truly miraculous to see our baby turn into a little boy.

So happy birthday to our adorable little Jackie Nunzio. He is handsome, inquisitive, and such an alert observer. A boy of few words, he is equally happy reading his books as he is throwing dirt and pebbles from one end of the yard to the other. And his smile and laugh can melt our hearts. Can't wait for year two.

What's in a Stroller?

Like everything else in the world, strollers have gotten fancy and expensive and trendy. There are brands that tend to "say" something about the mom that's pushing them. Of course, sometimes a stroller is just a stroller and it's ridiculous to give any weight to what brand allows you to push around your kid on four wheels.

I have many strollers. It's not really my fault. We got one great Chicco stroller at my baby shower and I love it. But then we got a couple of hand-me-down strollers from friends and I took them all. When I was pregnant I didn't really have any concept of what I would like or what the little guy would like. Mainly we use the Chicco one but the other day I busted out this little Maclaren lightweight stroller. Of course, I didn't really want a Maclaren stroller because, around LA, it just means fancy and rich and it's what the beautiful 105 pound actresses push their babies around in. (Babies who are named "Bear" or "Axel" or "Zuma" by the way.) But, I have to say, it's a great little stroller. I think Jack likes it because he sits really upright and is right out in the action, no tray to come between him and his trees. Of course, I wish it didn't have the words "Maclaren" blazoned across the seatback. But hopefully I don't look too cool for school in my sneakers, stained t-shirt, and ponytail. My son on the other hand... Maybe he should lose the shades.

It gets better every day...

I've had two moms at the playground (on two different occasions) tell me that, after 6 months, it just gets better every day. In my charming "glass half empty" kind of way, I asked when it stopped getting better every day. Clearly, after seeing lots of 12 year olds at the mall telling their moms that they're stupid, I believe at some point it stops getting better and starts being quite trying. The moms both had the same answer for me. It stops being completely blissful around 18 months because the temper tantrums start. So what do you think? Is that about right? Just wondering how much longer Jack will be so completely awesome.

Child Development in 2011

Last week Jack and I (and visiting Grammy) went to a little mommy and me class that was focused on child development from 6 months to 12 months. A lot of the stuff I already knew but the woman leading the seminar brought up a few interesting points that have stuck with me.

First, someone asked about when they should start giving their child a crayon or pen or pencil. This led to a discussion about how writing skills are becoming more and more delayed in children. Babies at home don't see their parents writing as much as they used to. Adults no longer write checks at the grocery store. We type emails instead of write letters. We pay bills online rather than through the mail. Of course, I'm very old school because I still write thank you cards and Christmas cards, and keep a calendar in the kitchen that I write on. So I'm hoping I am doing enough of that.

The second conversation was about verbal skills. Turns out that verbal skills are also developing slower in babies because they don't hear as much conversation. People are isolated in their homes, no longer friends with neighbors, etc. We spend a good portion of the day surfing the web, typing emails, and texting on our phones. Babies don't hear their parents talk on the phone as much. This is all definitely true for me unfortunately. Since I'm home alone with Jack all day, I don't often talk on the phone. I mean, I talk to Jack obviously and we go for walks, but I am not talking to adults all day. I'm often texting or on iChat with my husband all day but obviously that's silent. The instructor's advice was to just read everything aloud, as silly as it might seem. But read aloud the website you're looking at. Tell your baby what you're texting or emailing.

Anyways, I just thought it was interesting and thought I'd share. :)

"I used to be cute."

I was recently at a mommy and me group and one of the moms declared with sadness that she "used to be cute". In her words, "I used to do my hair and wear cute clothes and be skinny. The other day I put on high heels and I just couldn't walk in them anymore. My husband told me to take them off."

Let me first say that I never used to be cute. But there are some definite changes in my general appearance post-baby. I would say a lot of the changes stem from the fact that I don't get up and go to work every day. It's amazing what you'll let yourself get away with if you don't have to show up to an office at 8am. My footwear of choice? Flip-flops. Or, when it gets a little cooler, sneakers. I can't fathom putting on heels or boots given my current daily schedule. I also realized, as I sweat through shirt after shirt these 100 degree days, I don't have a wardrobe equipped to handle extreme heat. Mainly because in the past I usually entered a building at 8am and left at 8pm and, for the hours in between, froze my butt off in an overly air conditioned office (often times using a space heater under my desk even if it was 80 degrees outside). I was lucky I could utilize my enormous scarf inventory year round. But no longer. I need to invest in a few more tank tops and shorts. I will admit that pre-baby I still neglected my hair and wore a lot of ponytails. But now I literally can't remember the last time that I blow-dried my hair. It's now permanently pulled back.

But let's talk about the vomit. And the stains. That's definitely the biggest change. On a daily basis, and always when I'm getting into the car to go somewhere, I look down and discover that Jack has spit up on me. Or that I have dried pureed peas on my jeans. Or that Jack has put his hand in his rice cereal then grabbed my hair, leaving strands of crusted hair. At this critical junction, I choose the path of least resistance and climb right into the car and speed away. With junk in my hair. And the stain on my shirt. But, hey, I just throw on the Baby Bjorn and no one ever knows how stained my shirt is. Now what to do when Jack outgrows the Bjorn....

New mommy skillz

Sure, there were things I knew I would learn once I had a baby. Things like how to change a diaper, how to give a bath, how to swaddle, etc. And I'm happy to say that I've mastered all those skills. But I didn't know I'd need some other skills just to survive. Some very absurd things that I'm happy I now know how to do.

1. I can now sleep sitting up, while holding a child in my arms. Now, you're going to tell me that the books and experts say not to do that because you could drop your baby. Well, I don't know a single mom who hasn't done this. And now I do it pretty much every day. Jack still likes napping in my arms so while he naps, I fall asleep. Sitting up. My neck doesn't feel great but a cat nap during the day is nice.

2. I can go to the bathroom while holding a sleeping baby. Don't get me wrong, I haven't done this in a while, but when the little guy was a newborn, it seemed essential. Looking back, I don't know why in the heck I didn't put him down, but it didn't seem like an option. No matter, because I mastered the art of going to the bathroom while holding child. I know what you're thinking... I too expect my Mother of the Year award any day now.

3. I can effectively transfer a sleeping baby from my arms to a crib and then tip toe away. Man, this one took a little while to master. Or maybe Jack's just getting to be a better sleeper. But so so many nights I would make sure he was fast asleep, bouncing him for up to 30 minutes. Then I'd creep to the crib, gingerly lay him down, and BAM. He was wide awake and crying. Are you kidding me?! But now I'm an expert. (Most of the time).

4. I can tune out crying babies. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't ignore Jack's cries. (Usually). But prior to giving birth, I was so aware of a crying baby in a restaurant or public place. Isn't that just a grating sound? And then I had a newborn and of course I jumped at any cry. Now I barely hear a crying baby in a mall. And when Jack's bored in his jumperoo and starts to cry, I look at my sandwich and think, well, I can finish this.

5. Maybe most importantly, I can now dispense my favorite frozen yogurt with one hand. This was tricky. I love frozen yogurt. And I love this place down the street that is self-serve. So I pack up the kid in the car, drive there, and then what? I'm not hauling a stroller in for a 2 minute expedition. And putting on the Baby Bjorn seems like such a pain. So I just carry him in and then juggle the cup in one hand and dispense the yogurt in the other. I thought I had it down and was making it look easy but last week another mom asked me if I needed help. What? Did she think I was actually risking dropping my kid for some peanut butter chocolate frozen yogurt? Oh. Well.... I wasn't!

How Google went from my worst enemy to my best friend

When I was pregnant, google was not my friend. I searched every symptom, every possibility, every test result. And guess what happens when you search millions and millions of websites? You're bound to get some negative results. Some sad, sad stories about pregnancies and newborns that were tragic and heartbreaking. When I came across one of these sites, it would depress and upset me for days. So about half way through my pregnancy, John forbid me from googling all that stuff. So a lot of baby sites were off limits but I could still read Go Fug Yourself...because apparently celebrity fashion tragedies weren't as depressing.

But now six months after giving birth, google is my friend. Now, in an odd way, it always makes me feel better, rather than worse. Why? Because of the auto-complete or suggestion feature. When I start typing something in google, it suggests what it thinks I'm looking for. Without exception, every time I've googled something that's worrying me about Jack, there it is on the suggestions. And if it's a suggestion, then I must not be crazy. There must be other people going through the same thing. Jack's poop can't possibly smell like popcorn...or maybe it can! There it is on the google suggestion list! (I don't know about that vinegar suggestion....) Jack hit 4 months and his sleep habits went down the drain. "4 month sleep regression" is a number 1 hit on google suggestions. You name it and google can lead me to a group of people going through the same thing. Jack has cradle cap, he's waking up up every hour, his poop is bright grass green, he's losing weight, he's got a mysterious rash... it's all on there. And it's all so so damn reassuring.

John on: "Staying at home with Jack"

On Saturday I took off to spend the day with my friend Leigh in what was the longest amount of time away from Jack ever. I was gone 8 to 5 and, while I missed him terribly, it was nice to put on earrings and a shirt that wasn't stained with spit up or dry crusted pea puree. I also got to listen to my own music for the long drive (no lullabies) and got to eat a lunch with two hands. I never really worried about how the boy was doing though because I know he loves his daddy. Still, to be a fly on the wall for John's first "stay at home dad" experience....

On a daily basis, I leave Lisa and Jack standing in the doorway, waving goodbye. Saturday, it was Lisa driving away from me and the boy.

Probably my first day as father and son tearing up the town together should have been more momentous. Throwing rocks at cars from the freeway overpass, teaching him to hold a chaw in his lip, betting the superfecta at Hollywood Park, something along those lines. But knowing Jack’s aversion to change I went with keeping it simple and playing to my strengths.

Music is my go-to move usually. I played him a record. He watches it spin. I let him pound on the piano. He’s not a big believer in having a tonal center yet. I put him in his crib and let him kick while I strummed my gee-tar, seen here:

I’m hoping extending his tongue means he likes what he hears.

This got him through to his first nap. Our goal is to keep him down longer than 30 minutes. He woke up at 30 minutes, and when I tried to get him back down, the kid actually laughed in my face. He’s lucky I love him.

Our big outing was to the Do-It Center where I Bjorned him as I knew I’d need two hands and a non-yelling kid to root through the screws and bolts section of the store. I immediately got smiles upon entering, all from the ladies. It is certainly obvious in a hardware store the different perspective men and women have of a baby. Women smile and swoon. Men grunt and move on. I turned the corner to head down the main aisle, an elderly woman spotted us from what felt like half a klick away, and said, “Can I see your baby?” (I hope my reaction didn’t come across as appalled or put off, because she followed with “I won’t get too close, I promise.” Maybe I have the same naturally pissed off face that my wife carries.) And as she approached, another woman came from the other side with a hello and smile for Jack. They were a mother-daughter tandem, who were about to become a grandmother and great-grandmother for the first time in December. In addition to cooing at Jack, they wanted an up-close look at the Bjorn. We left it at “Get one for your daughter” and “congratulations.” A sweet, nice moment.

Countered by a male sales clerk smirking at me as I left them: “Don’t you wish you had one of those when you were single? Total chick magnet, right?” Yes, a great way to pick up expecting grandmas. Like I said, the male/female perspectives have their differences.

In the bolts/nuts/screws aisle, Jack was incredibly excited, kicking and cooing away. My dad is happy to know that the hardware store appealed to his grandson. Of course, so does getting his own foot into his mouth.

By the time we left, and took a walk down the street to the bank and back, Jack was getting close to his second nap. The plan was to get him home and put him down. The plan didn’t make it out of the parking lot. I looked back once and he was rubbing his eyes. I looked back a second time and he was out cold:

He went down so fast, that I fought a serious instinct to pull the car over to make sure he was breathing. Then I did something I never thought I’d do: Travel two towns over to go through a Starbucks drive-thru to delay having to try to move the kid from his car seat still slumbering. (This is where I checked to make sure he was still breathing. I held out for a 15 minute car ride.) I relied on Starbucks having the least efficient drive-thru service in America to extend his nap as long as possible. I was not disappointed. However, I was inevitably disappointed by my inability to move the kid from car seat into the nursery without waking him up. Again, he laughed in my face. But the laughter did reconfirm the whole breathing thing, so that worked out.

I don’t know how long blog-posts are supposed to be, but I’m more verbose and do far more self-editing than my wife (*understatement of the decade), so I’ll just end it saying, generally, it was a bump-free day. Downright enjoyable. He allowed me to get a tri-tip sandwich at the Handy Market. I got to even sit and eat half of it before he started airing his grievances. Very thoughtful boy. Lisa sends me pics and video during my workdays so I don’t feel like I’m missing anything, so I tried to return the favor for her. Here are the remaining highlights I texted/emailed her throughout the day:

Waking up from his long nap of the day. Dazed, confused, and questioning who the hell I am and why I'm not mommy.

He's becoming more and more comfortable with his instinct to rip the glasses from my head. This is him eyeing them up towards the end of our day. Or looking lovingly at me. One of the two.

And I thought pregnancy brain was bad

I know when I was pregnant in one of my billion weekly pregnancy updates I complained about "pregnancy brain". I was forgetting things, it was hard to concentrate, etc. But that was nothing compared to "new mommy brain". I know my sleep-deprivation hasn't helped, but I feel like my mind has turned to mush in the past 5 months. I'm hopelessly forgetful, I can't remember what day it is, and I find myself making silly mistakes.

The other day I was spending some of my rare free minutes doing laundry when I went to transfer my wet clothes from the washer to the dryer. At that moment it dawned on me...I had forgotten to put laundry detergent in the washer. So my clothes had just gotten soaking wet and taken a spin, with no soap. I did what any other busy new mom would do...I put them in the dryer and decided they were clean enough.

Then last week I was even more colossally bone-headed. Every day it's sort of a challenge to eat a real meal during the day. Between holding Jack who hates to be put down, napping with him, and trying to take a shower every morning, I always have to hustle to find time to eat a meal. And because I'm breastfeeding, I'm generally very hungry and need to snack every few hours. Anyways, last week I looked at the clock and it was 11:15 am and I thought "man, I'm usually starving by now. I feel okay but I better make something before I get too hungry." I think I was about 90% done making my scrambled eggs when it dawned on me...I wasn't hungry because I had gone out to breakfast with John early that morning. The three of us had piled in the car, driven to a restaurant, ordered, eaten at a nice little table outside, and driven home all before 8:30. And I had promptly forgotten all about it two hours later. And THAT is mommy brain.

Note to my future self - don't depress new moms

When Jack and I are out and about, a lot of people come up to us. Yes, Jack's cute but it's also because he's a baby and, guess what? People like babies. Could you resist that face above? Anyways, yesterday for some reason, three different woman at three different stores approached us and depressed me with the same story.

It started off in the grocery store where the woman in front of me in line was talking to Jack and being very nice.

"I just dropped my baby off for his first day of high school."

"Oh, that's nice."

"I cried my eyes out. It was so sad. They grow up so fast. Cherish every moment."

"Oh. Okay. I will. Cherish every moment."

I mean, what do you say? I know what she's saying is the truth but I've heard it so often that I'm starting to get depressed about something that is at least 13 years away. And then we went to Costco....

"What an adorable baby."

"Thanks. I think he's pretty cute."

"My 'baby' is 47 years old and it went by so fast. I miss that cute cuddly baby I used to have. Now I barely see him."

"Oh. Well.... I'm sorry."

See a pattern? After that we headed to Michael's craft store. (I know...My day is just overwhelmingly exciting and you're very jealous.)

"Your son is so so cute. And what a smile!"

"Yes, he loves his Baby Bjorn."

"My kids are in high school now and it went by so fast. Now they want nothing to do with me. It literally breaks my heart."

"Oh. Well...."

That one I didn't have a response for. I mean, what do you say besides "that totally sucks?" I left feeling sad that the baby smiling up at me would one day tell me that I'm an idiot and that he doesn't want to be seen with me. But I guess that's just another phase of growing up. Hopefully it'll be a short phase and he'll go back to being nice right after his high school graduation. But I really hope that in 15 years I'm not depressing some nice new mom in the Vons check out line. I'll just say "cute baby" and leave it at that.

No one tells you about the hickies

So last week when we were out of town, I went into the bathroom, glanced in the mirror and stopped in my tracks. There was some weird spot on my arm.

I looked closer, and then closer, and then closer. And then....what the hell?!

A HICKEY. And I immediately knew where it came from. A few hours earlier, Jack had playfully started sucking on my arm when I was holding him and I let him because I thought it was harmless. But it apparently wasn't. And I got to walk around the party with a hickey on my arm. They didn't tell me about this in the breastfeeding class I took when I was pregnant.

Singing in the rain...

...and in the grocery store, and on walks, and in the airport, and on the plane, and in the Nordstrom dressing room.

Here's my typical audience of one judging my singing voice.

Before Jack was born, I never ever sang in public. Probably had something to do with me having a terrible voice. No, really. I'm not just saying that. It's bad. Awful. And I know that and accept it. It's not one of my strengths. But now that I have the little guy and I know the one sure method of soothing him is singing to him, I burst out in song all the time. Usually I don't even realize that I'm singing loudly to my son and that anyone can hear. We go on walks in the neighborhood and he starts to fuss so I have to sing. And sing the silliest camp songs ever. It's amazing how I don't care anymore. Don't get me wrong though, I won't be posting video of myself singing anytime soon.

A sure-fire remedy for a down day

Well, the easy two word answer would be "that guy". That kid in the picture above. But there's more to it.

Last week Jack was having a rough week which made me in turn have a rough week. Zero sleep, lots of his fussiness, being around some super easy babies, and my phone dying, then replacing it, then having me drop it and shatter its screen. Not a banner week. Right about the time I shattered the glass screen, I was grumpy and decidedly not as enthused by all the strangers telling me how cute my kid was. Yeah, he's cute, but he's not a walk in the park. Okay, I'll admit it, I was in a bad mood. For a few days. (Shocking, I know.)

One afternoon I loaded the little guy into the car and headed to the store where they could fix my phone screen. I wasn't too excited to be pouring another couple hundred dollars into this phone. But off I went and Jack and I had to kill 25 minutes while they fixed it. Strapped in the Bjorn, we headed to the nearest shelter from the 92 degree heat which happened to be a Children's Place store. I walked in and saw a display of baby glasses on sale for $2.99. That's about what I was willing to spend on something I assumed would be mostly a novelty item. I grabbed the coolest pair (evidence above) and got in line. There was only one other woman in line, at the cashier, and she seemed to be returning about 50 items and purchasing another 10. Now, I've never worked retail but I imagine it can be hell dealing with certain customers. Namely, women like this woman. She was pretty short and rude with the cashier who clearly didn't deserve it. The transaction took a long time but I didn't have anywhere to go so I didn't care. The customer cared though because she took her bag at the end and walked off in a huff. The poor cashier woman looked utterly dejected. I cautiously approached the counter with a smile and said "I'm only getting these sunglasses, it'll be easy." At that moment, Jack turned on the charm and unleashed the biggest smile at her. Her entire face and lit up and said "That's just what I needed" and proceeded to ooh and ahh all over him. She told me that he made her feel much better and at that moment I felt guilty about having been grumpy about his fussiness all week. Sure, he can be difficult but that smile makes it all worth it.

As I paid, she insisted on taking the tags off and putting the sunglasses on Jack because "she just had to see how cute he was going to look." Well, she wasn't disappointed.

The smell of a baby

Everyone talks about how sweet and lovely a baby smells. And, in some ways, it's totally true. There is a "baby" smell and there is a baby breath smell which I find particularly adorable. I'll miss that smell in a year when it's gone.

But there are a few other smells. You know, the ones that don't make moms nostalgic and that can clear an entire room. First, there's the wet dog smell. I don't know what it is, but when my little guy gets out of the bath, he sometimes smells like a wet dog. Which is not a good thing if you're like me and aren't particularly fond of that smell. I'm hoping this is normal and that he is not, in fact, part canine.

But the real smell that can stop me in my tracks is his dirty diaper. Now, I know he's only ingesting breast milk right now so it's going to get worse. I know that. But this smell...I'm not saying it's the most foul thing ever. Not at all. No, it's something else. Imagine my surprise when one day he let loose with some audible noises (does that ever stop being funny?) and what did I smell? Buttered popcorn. That's right. To me, it smells like buttered popcorn. I've been having this thought for months now but I didn't tell John because I thought he would think I was crazy. I mean, what's wrong with me? Clearly my nose is out of whack because I have heard lots of baby poop jokes and none of them revolve around buttered popcorn. But, lo and behold, I was completely validated when I came across this blog post on another mom's blog. Someone else thinks the same thing! Yay! I'm not insane! Nor is my child abnormal! And he doesn't have movie popcorn poop because his mom lives and breathes movies!