A Letter to Zach - Month 10

Dear Zach,
Today you turned 10 months old and you weigh 26lbs 13oz and are 30.5 inches long...
So either your shrinking since your 9 month newsletter where I reported you were 32 inches long, or I can't work a tape measure right.
And I would like to just take a moment to pat myself on my back for posting your monthly newsletter ON TIME. This is HUGE. I will be proud of this for DAYS.
This month we started off with a little Halloween activity which was probably way more entertaining for me than it was for you come to think of it. We spent the morning at Suzanne and Sylvia's house where we ate one of the tastiest potluck brunches I've had in a long time and stuffed you kids into hilarious costumes. You were a plush little turtle. This would be the part where it was probably more fun for me. You seemed pretty neutral about the whole thing, only swapping neutrality for confusion when we lined all of you up on the couch and then started simultaneously making cooing, buzzing, and clicking noises to get you all to smile and look at the camera together. Not as challenging as herding cats, but not easy either. In fact, combing through our collective pictures from all four cameras I don't think we got a single picture with all of you smiling.
We spent the rest of the afternoon running errands at which point (much to your relief) I changed you into your second costume for the day which was a simple skeleton PJ set courtesy of Grandma Carola. By night time we were home and ready to greet trick'or'treaters - something I was skeptical we would have given our track record of only one last year, and that was the neighbor we're friends with so it was more out of pity than anything else. But this year we had over 10! I'm convinced it's because the new neighbors have fixed up crazy old lady Rena's house quite nicely since buying it. And by 'nicely' I mean 'nicely, considering they chose to paint it a god awful shade of orange and I'm still upset about it 3 months after they did it.' My theory is that the house was downright scary looking before, and on a such small cul-de-sac not many people felt compelled to wander around knocking on doors near a freaky dark house where a crazy old lady is rumored to live. But she's gone and so the treak'or'treating ensued with much merriment.
Once Halloween wrapped up you came down with a cold.
Yes, sick again.
Thankfully you are the best sport about being sick, otherwise I think I'd go insane with all the times that you and I have collectively been ill this year. This time you had a head cold complete with cough, sore throat, and running nose. Which you graciously gave to me, and then I in turn gave to your dad. So for about 2 weeks running we were all in variously states of cranky. And in the midst of it all you decided to stop eating anything solid at all - even your cheerios - which drove me nearly batty by the 2nd week. You finally started eating cheerios again, but just about all other solids are out. I can sometimes trick you into trying a few things, and if I'm lucky and give you a loaded spoon you might actually get some of it in your mouth. At this point I think you're just still not that into food yet, combined with getting over a cold, as well as striking out with some independence of your own.
Once again I have chosen to walk the path of patience and neutrality. We try eating every day, at a few different times, and one day I'm sure I will look back on all this and yearn for the days when I didn't have to only shop at Costco, and I could leave there for less than $800 in groceries.
As for the end of the month you have been mastering a few accomplishments which has been both exciting and amusing. You've become quite adept at rolling around which has made things a little bit easier ironically. Now that you're independently mobile I don't have to hover quite as much in case you become bored and need flipping or propping up. You're quite happy to roll around and play on your own while I sit nearby supervising as well as accomplishing a task like sewing, knitting, reading, emailing, twiddling my thumbs. But mostly I enjoy getting down on the ground and playing with you - your favorite game is knocking down towers that I build with your blocks, followed by tearing apart whatever clean up your anal retentive mother has tried to do in the wake of your playing mess.
Now that you've mastered rolling around you seem to be working on pulling yourself up. You're not quite there yet, but you're getting stronger every day and I anticipate that one of these days you'll pop right up like you've been doing it for months. If I help pull you into a standing postion and give you something to prop yourself on you actually hold yourself up quite well. So well in fact that you cruised a little the other day. Your dad and I suspect that you might bypass crawling altogether and go straight to walking. Crawling seems to interest you very little. You can get into a crawl pose complete with your belly off the ground, but do you actually crawl? No. If you want something you roll to it. Game over.
We ended the month with adding a couple new constenants to your vocabulary: B and D. Which was quite entertaining as one afternoon you started saying "bah bah bah" and "dah dah dah" out of no where and continued to alternate between the two all day long. It was hilarious until about midnight when you woke up chatting. And it become increasingly unhilarious at 1:18am, 2:24am, 3:53am, 6:12am, and finally 7:42am. My sweet little boy - let me give you a tip - when you learn a new trick feel free to practice it whenever you like, just heed the following rules: 1) if you must do it at night, please wait until you have your own room and 2) if you're waking up to practice, please see to it that you go back to sleep on your own when done.
All the love and kisses possible,
Mama

A Letter to Zach - Month 9

Dear Zach,
On Saturday you turned 9 months old and you weighed 26lbs and were 32 inches long...
Oh my little peanut, this month came with it's challenges. Nothing we were not necessarily prepared for, just a few things were shaken up and I'm left yearning for not that long ago when we had a fairly normal routine.
The greater part of the month was dominated by a minor virus that you have been plagued with. Still are, in fact, as I write this. The first week you had it I didn't even realize it - noticing only that your sleeping was off, you wanted to nurse more, and you seemed to be developing a rash on your legs and arms. Concerned about the rash I took you to your Doctor and he informed me that sometimes viruses show themselves in the form of little bumps and it's nothing to be concerned about. Glad to hear that my mothering instincts were right, and that I had nothing to worry about, I took you home thinking we were half way through the virus and you would be on the mend soon.
Only to find you developed a bad case of diarrhea a day later.
Now, one might like to think that she could go on about blogging on the topic of her infant son without mentioning diarrhea at length. And truthfully, if I was really devoted I could probably achieve that goal.
But I have just spent the past 8 days changing an average of 6 diarrhea diapers a day. That's 6 diapers on a squirming, almost 9 month old. An almost-9-month-old who has started rolling like there's a pile of tivo remotes on the other side of the room.
I'll explain about the remotes shortly.
And let us not forget what happens when a baby poops a lot during the day and consequently gets wiped a lot? Diaper rash happens that's what. Ugly, swollen, angry diaper rash that sneaks up on you. So next thing you know you're not just changing a diaper. You're preparing wet paper towels to clean the bottom (because baby wipes sting and make a baby scream like their toes are being chewed off), you're smearing Desitin on after each diaper change (which is near impossible to completely wash off of your fingers), and your washing each and every diaper pad you change on because your rolling tyke has roll/smeared poo all over it. And as a result of all this effort you're also doing laundry every day to keep up with all the poo-tastrophes (read: wardrobe changes), and let us not forget the twice (sometimes thrice) daily baths to soothe and help clean the poo-smeared angry baby.
And as I write this I can almost see the collective all-knowing head-nods of all the parents who've been there.
It's not pretty.
And we're on day #9.
Ok, so enough about poop.
This month you started rolling with some real intent. One day you were no longer content with just rolling over onto your belly. You decided it was high time you start rolling around to grab an object, or just to relocate yourself from point A to point B.
And much to our dismay you took your first fall off the bed on to the not so welcoming hardwood floor below. You ended up with a goose egg bump on your little forehead and a nasty looking fat lip - you learned that night a little bit about gravity and how your teeth are not just for chewing cheerios with.
As for the tivo remote...
You have developed an unusual fixation on the tivo remote. You always seemed very interested in it, but this month your interest has blossomed into something a little more concerning. When you see it nearby you get a look in your eye akin to that of a drug seeking junky who came across a stash in his dresser drawer he had forgotten about. You lunge, roll, grab, and squirm with all your little might in order to get the remote into you little palms so that you may suck on it. Once in your possesion you hold onto it like it's the most precious of all toys - never even coming close to dropping it.
We typically take it away from you since your playing with it usually wrecks havoc on our tivo - deleting shows we had yet to watch primarily. And up until recently you didn't care all that much. But then one day when I went to take the remote from you it ellicited a reaction I had yet to encounter - your face wrinkled up, turned red, and you started hiccuping little upset cries.
You, my darling little boy, were upset that you had something taken away from you.
For the first time ever.
While admittedly cute, I'm sure the cuteness will wear off. But for right now I find it adorable, so my sanity remains intact.
And you still don't get to play with the tivo remote.
In the spirit of the fall season starting and Halloween soon to follow we took a day off from working on the bathroom and traveled out to the coast for your first trip to the beach. We started in Halfmoon Bay to do a little (soon-to-be) traditional pumpkin farming, and then we drove up north on Hwy 1 through San Francisco and took you out on the beach for the first time at Baker Beach. Well, the first ocean facing beach you've been on - as we've been to our bay front beach in Alameda plenty of times.
It was windy, but you didn't care as you were snuggled up against me in your Ergo.
It was a fantastic day - just our little family taking time to be a family. Something I think we should try and do more of.
All the love and kisses possible,
Mama

My little Popeye

Starting solids has been no quick and easy task for me and Zach. It has been mentioned in previous posts (it is with near-exaggeration that I pluralized the word "post") that he has approached transitioning to solids with much lackluster.
Tonight I looked into the pantry to decide what would be on the Junior Menu this evening and found a jar of spinach and potatoes - something that Zach has yet to try.
Cracking it open I took one look at it and grew very skeptical - the puree resembling something you might skim off the walls of an aquarium. After taking a whiff I was surprised to find out that it doesn't smell much better either. And finally taking a taste (as I find it hard to feed my kid something I won't at least try myself) I found that, yes, seriously, it really does taste like what I imagine algae to taste like.
Let us be clear - I have NOT tasted algae before so I am not certain.
This is only an assumption I am making on my part, and assuming is as far as I will go.
With much doubt I spooned a small helping into Zach's bowl and imagine my surprise when my little peach-hating, avocado-scoffing, pear-ignoring child took a big mouthful and didn't immediately spit it out.
Something I was tempted to do when I tasted it.
And imagine my sheer indignation when he took another spoonful. And then another.
In fact, I'm writing this post while lying on the floor.

A Letter to Zach - Month 8

Dear Zach,
A while ago you turned 8 months old and you weighed 25lbs 7oz and were 30 inches long at the time...
I started this blog on time...and then the tile came in for our bathroom floor and all things got dropped. So you can imagine the laughter that ensued as I sat down and reread the draft I had started working on a few weeks ago, specifically the following:
"The mere fact that I'm actually getting this month's entry done on time might be an indication of a few things - 1) your nap times have condensed dramatically so that rather than taking 73 thirty minute naps a day you take two 1-2 hour naps a day and 2) we've almost finished remodeling the bathroom which has freed up my time dramatically.
Oh the hilarity of it all.










I particularly like the part about having almost finished remodeling our bathroom. We've "almost" finished our bathroom now for about 2 months. This pretty much sums up the largest lesson that your momma has learned about remodeling, and construction in general - when you think you're close to done, i.e. you just have the "finish" work left, you're only halfway there. This is why so many people don't actually ever completely finish projects - they get to this part and throw in the towel because there are so many other enticing things to do with your time (read: drinking heavily) and why spend it painting baseboards or filling holes with wood filler when you already have a working toilet, sink, and tub?
But your dad and I are dedicated to seeing all our projects through to the finish. Literally. Every hole will be filled, every item painted, sealed, or stained. So ever since the tile came in I've spent every free moment when you're asleep up a ladder painting, sanding, filling, sanding, and painting. And when I'm not up the ladder I'm on my knees tiling, grouting, sealing, caulking, and more caulking.
Isn't it nice how I've spent so much of your monthly newsletter on the topic of our bathroom? A room you don't even use?
Oh my little monkey - you will use it soon if I have any say in it.
And on that note...here's the rest of what I wrote, on time, back when you were just turning 8 months old:
This whole napping thing - oh let me tell you - has been the greatest thing. And to think, I was just writing mere months ago at how excited I was to just be able to put you down for a nap and walk away. Who would have thought I'd eventually have up to TWO HOURS to myself more than TWICE a day!?
It's insanity.
I mean, I knew there would eventually come a time where I would get a little more time to myself, that your naps would become more consistent as well as nice and looooooong. It seemed clear to me that at some point, by the time you were at least 20, I would have that luxury. So imagine my surprise when little by little your naps stretched out. As I'd be puttering around the house I would check on you, confused by how long it had been since I'd last tended to you. Eventually I would just check on you every so often to make sure you were still breathing because god knows there could be no other explanation for your sleeping for so long with out me RIGHT there next to you.
But I've adjusted. I've now learned that not only does this mean you have not stopped breathing, but it also means that a whole new world of opportunity has opened up for me. Quite timely I must say too, as we were in the throws of renovating our bathroom when all this started - it didn't take long for me to take advantage. Now while you nap during the day I spend my time drywalling, painting, tiling, and generally busying myself with lots of detailed finish work that is - quite frankly - driving me up the wall.
And to be honest?
Sometimes I look at you lying in that cozy bed and I yearn for the days of when I had the excuse that you wouldn't nap without me - just so I could go and lay there with you.
But that's only on the days when it's peaking 95 degrees and I have been up a ladder with nothing but joint compound, a drywall knife, and my sweat to keep me company.
And all this sleeping is going to good use I can see. You continue to put on weight, keeping you steadily just off the charts - you've turned into quite the little Michelin baby to be frank. And this week you worked on two more teeth. Bringing us to the grand total of 8 teeth.
I think you're going to be eating corn on the cob before you start walking at this rate. Although, that being said, you're still not the hottest about eating solid foods. We still try new things, and you continue to humor me one or two bites. But even your favorites you're not that excited about. Most of the time you look at me as if to say "what is this? why are you shoving this stuff in my face? I'm a boob-man mom, would you just accept it?
Like with all things parenting I stay patient about it, keep persisting, and assume that one day you will suddenly figure out that this whole eating solids thing is pretty damn cool.
And then we will go broke feeding you.
All the love and kisses possible,
Mama

A Letter to Zach - Month 7

Dear Zach,
On Monday you turned 7 months old and you weighed 23lbs 13oz and were 29.5 inches long...
Oh my these weeks are speeding by. We've had a very busy summer and I can hardly believe that pretty soon I'm going to have to start thinking about a costume for your for Halloween!
At the beginning of last month we started trying out some solids. I watched you very carefully for a few weeks up to that point and felt that you were ready. You didn't exactly go for it with the gusto I envisioned you would. After all, you've been such a good eater to say the least. But I'm sure eating solids and drinking breastmilk are two very different experiences for you, so I'm patient and don't put much pressure on you. We started you on rice cereal which you seemed very interested in. And when I say 'interested' I don't mean excited, jumping-up-and-down-with- anticipation interested. It's more like hmmmmmm-this-is-different interested. You would roll the cereal around in your mouth and sometimes swallow it and other times push it out onto your chin. Then we moved on to bananas - something I was sure you would love. And while you seemed more into the banana than you were the cereal, you still seemed a bit UNDERwhelmed shall we say. Avocado had slightly the same reception. And then we tried the sweet potato. Holy cow do you ever like sweet potato. After one bite you were hooked - every time the spoon came your way you would open your little mouth and lean forward against the restraints of your highchair. Each bite you swallowed as quickly as it entered your mouth. You can't get enough of the stuff! By day 2 of the SP as soon as you saw the spoon you leaned forward, mouth agape, and reached out with not just your arms but your legs too! Each spoon full was received in much the same manor until we ran out of the stuff!
So I'd have to say we're off to a good start on the solids front.
On the teething front...
More teeth started coming in last month. The two neighbors of your upper front teeth started poking their heads out of nowhere. You certainly do keep teething to yourself these days. The drooling and gnawing hasn't even been that excessive - yet you seem to be growing teeth like mad. In addition to those two teeth, you started cutting your two front uppers near the end of the month - so you're pushing out 4 teeth all at once! And it seems as though you could care less. Which pleases me to no end - it gives me great pleasure knowing you're happing and comfortable.
And the fact you're not keeping me up at all hours is great too.
Saves on the liquor bill.
This month was full of visitors to say the least. Grandma came out from Colorado for a long visit and we saw her at the beginning of her trip before she headed up north to visit your Uncle Dana. We saw her again right before she flew home which was nice. Even though our visits are short, I'm glad we've gotten to see her a few times now since you've been born.
Aunt Nisa and Uncle John stopped in for an unexpected impromptu visit - this was your first time meeting them and we had a nice quick visit. And then later in the month Uncle Dana stopped by while he was in town. You had a great time with him, finding him particularly hilarious (as most people do), especially when he rubbed your feet on his 5 o'clock shadow. And in true Dana fashion he taught you how to make smacking noises with your lips.
I'm sure next time he'll teach you how to make farting noises in the crook of your arm.
Near the end of the month your dad and I took a day off from working on the bathroom and went with Grandma Carola to the Dale Chihuly exhibit at the De Young in San Francisco. I was super excited to go check it out as I have been a big fan for years, but it was also fun because it was your first trip into San Francisco.
Which I'm a bit ashamed to admit come to think of it.
We live across the bridge from the damn city and it took us nearly 7 months to take you over there??
Anyway.
It hadn't occurred to me prior, but during the exhibit I kept thinking what a great thing to take you to! You're not mobile yet, so you couldn't run around threatening to knock all the glass over...and consequently giving me a heart attack every 5 seconds. So you just sat in your carrier, leaned against my chest and looked out at all the beautiful colors and textures. You didn't nap until we were done - and boy were you tired. So glad I could share something like that with you.
All the love and kisses possible,
Mama

A Letter to Zach - Month 6

Dear Zach,
I'm ashamed to admit that I am 3 weeks overdue with writing your 5 month newsletter. And it took me getting sick and confining myself to bed to do it.
But that's the way it's been for us lately - busy busy busy.
When you turned 6 months you weighed 23 pounds and were 29 inches long. I took you in for your 6 month check up and when the doctor was done the nurse came in and gave you a shot - and for the first time you didn't cry. I couldn't believe how brave you were! There were tears in your eyes, and you looked at me for support - but you didn't cry. You let out a little sigh and the redness in you face went away and then you saw me smile at you and you smiled back as if to say 'well that sucked, but I'm over it now.'
This month has been full of house related projects - which is probably the biggest reason why my blogging has gone from hardly at all to NOT at all. As mentioned last month we started our bathroom remodel upstairs. So far so good - in fact we're probably going to be ready to install our new tub on Saturday! I'm especially looking forward to that mainly because once that's in I can leave you and your dad alone while I go and take a long deep soak. I haven't had a bath in forEVER - the idea sounds particularly appealing as I lie here trying to ignore my aching muscles thanks to this stupid cold I've got. Well, in part due to that, and in part due to the aching muscle spasm that has taken up permanent residence in my lower back - a side effect I suspect is due to lugging around a rather large infant. I take it all in stride though - I take great pride in your healthy rolls of pudge - and I let the aches and pains remind me that I just need to do back strengthening excersizes while I'm at the gym.
Aside from growing (a given at this point) you've been busy working on other tricks. Blowing raspberries is probably my favorite. The day you learned how to do that you were so excited - you had watched your dad and I do it probably a million times, each one eliciting a big smile from you. So when you finally figured out how to do them on your own I could really see the joy and excitement in your eyes as you then sat there and kept blowing them for a good 10 minutes. I folded the laundry and you blew and blew and blew, alternatively flapping your legs and arms in celebration of your accomplishment, until you had a frothy spit mustache and were tired and ready for a nap.

Now you blow them whenever you feel like it - usually when you've just woken up from a nap, or when you're bored and are waiting for me to come and pick you up. And sometimes you blow them when you're really upset - like the time we were driving home in the car and you were upset and wanted out of the car. You were fussing the whole way home, ending each fussing yell with a raspberry. I snickered the whole way home. You certainly don't understand this now, but someday when you're a parent you'll see how hard it is to take a 6 month old's cries seriously when they're each punctuated with a long raspberry.
Much to my dismay you've learned how to wriggle out of your bouncey seat. The very same seat that enabled me to eat breakfasts, take showers, and just have a safe place to put you when you were very young. I haven't quite motivated myself to pack it up just yet. But each time I put you in it you seem to last less and less time, either ending in loud fusses or you wriggle out.

In a very exciting development, you've started sitting up on your own this month. It was very early on, so the news seems a bit old to me now - but it's still important! Sitting on your own means so many things to you! It's an important criteria to meet before we can start you on solids...you used to love sitting with help, so now that you can sit on your own you're that much more happy...and my favorite - you can now go in the swing at the park and not look like a sack of flour about to tip ass over eyeballs out onto the tanbark. A few weeks ago I parked you in a playground swing and you seemed to enjoy yourself. I use the word 'seemed' because you mostly just sat in the swing and thought about what was going on. As your mom I've come to learn that this means you're curious about what's going on and eventually will learn to love it. But for the time being you just want to think about it and will tolerate thinking about it for a long time. In this case I pushed you for about 15 minutes until the other baby we were with got bored and fussy.
We went to the beach for the first time this month. It's hard to believe that it's taken me this long to get you to the beach given our bay front beach is only a 10 minute walk from our front door. When I was pregnant with you I used to have all kinds of grand romantic ideas of walking with you to the waterfront on a warm breezy day...curling up with you on a blanket under an umbrella, and while you slept peacefully taking in the fresh bay air I would catch up on some reading and maybe snooze with you. Dreaming and doing are two totally different things. For one, I realized that walking to the beach with you was a totally different challenge if I intended to STOP and sit AT the beach. Have you noticed how pathetically small the cargo space is under your stroller? I barely have enough room in there to stow our farmer's market goodies, so it's pretty obvious to me that a blanket, an umbrella, jackets if it gets too cold, hats and sunscreen if the umbrella won't stay up in the breeze, and a book are all a bit on the big side cargo-wise. And did you notice that part about the sunscreen? I hate sunscreen. Hate putting it on, hate feeling it on my skin, hate reapplying it. So you can imagine I'd hate putting it on you, hate feeling it on you, and hate reapplying it. In fact, multiply that times 10 because you're squirmy and I'd feel much much worse if I got it in your eyes.
It took nearly 6 months, but a friend of ours planned a playdate with some other friends, so I packed all our things in the CAR and drove over to the beach. It was nice to finally share that part of our world with you - being we're Californians and all. And even though it was a bay-front beach, it still gave you a good idea of what to expect. Someday we'll make it out to the ocean and you can really see what I'm talking about. But that's a longer drive, a longer day, and a lot more sunscreen.
The last big accomplishment this month was cutting your first tooth. Which was quickly followed with cutting your second tooth. Two cute little teeth keeping each other company on your bottom gums. I hardly even knew you were cutting them - you were such a good sport. You've been drooly for a few months now, so that was nothing new. But one day your dad pointed out that he could feel a sharp little tooth just below the gum line - and sure enough just a couple days later we could see it poking it's little head out. Then a few days later the other one joined it. You drooled, and gummed your toys and our fingers a little harder than usual. But other than that life was pretty normal. Let's hope you cut all your teeth with as much of a sweet laid back attitude as you have so far!
All the love and kisses possible,
Mama

A Letter to Zach - Month 5

Dear Zach,
Um, a couple weeks ago (ahem) you turned 5 months old and you weighed 21lbs 13oz and were 27.5 inches long...
It seems that your growing like a weed status has tapered off a bit and now you're growing at a much more manageable pace. Although this didn't really happen until you graduated on to size 12 months in clothing.
Now that I've said that you'll start another growth spurt tomorrow and I'll eat my words.
As I'm writing this you're rolling around in your play yard while sucking your fingers which brings me to one of the most exciting monuments you accomplished last month - rolling over! It had been a while since I had forced tummy time on you one afternoon, so I decided that while we had some free time I would put you down on your belly and make you get a little much needed belly wallowing done. No sooner had I placed you on your belly did you promptly push up so your chest was actually off of the ground and then you toppled to one side and rolled over.
Like you had done this every day for the past month.
I nearly fell over.
I rolled you back over again and watched as you repeated the same exersize again - flawlessly. It was as if you had learned how to remedy you mother's nasty habit of putting you down face down - just roll over! I then got out the video camera, rolled you over so you were on your belly again, and you started bawling until I picked you up. So I basically have footage of you crying on your stomach. But I think I got some footage later in the day of you rolling over so I'll have to dig around and post that once I find it.
While your growth has slowed down a little bit that still hasn't saved us from having to upgrade to a larger means of bathing you. I've picked up a little inflatable tub that seems to be doing quite well and you seem much happier in it with the additional wiggle room. I'm also pleased that I didn't have to worry about torching our old tub in order to satisfy myself that it was sterile enough. Which as it turns out wouldn't have mattered as your dad demolished the upstairs bathroom a few weeks ago and there is nothing more than studs, sub-flooring, and a toilet in the upstairs bath. So we spend our bath time these days downstairs in our new fancy bathroom that your dad and I built with our own two hands. Quite handy your parents are as it turns out.
In addition to your rolling around you have also met the milestone of grabbing your feet and occasionally shoving them in your mouth. Which is just about the cutest thing I've ever seen.
Although just about everything you do is the cutest thing ever.
This is how it works. I am your mother - therefore everything you do is adorable to me.
Except for tantrums. But I have yet to deal with that yet.
As it turns out, this whole foot-grabbing trick of yours is one of the handiest things ever because you are endlessly amused by your feet. I can put you down and the second you get cranky I'll just hand you a foot and you'll be totally distracted. Many times I have been able to put you down to take care of something in the other room and I'll hear you crowing and babbling at your toes. It's like you have this little audience cheering you on - you never feel lonely anymore.
All the love and kisses possible,
Mama

A Letter to Zach - Month 4

Dear Zach,
Um...like a week ago? you turned 4 months old and you weighed 20lbs 1oz, and were 28 inches long.
This may be a short letter as my ability to sit down in front of the computer for extended periods of time has been reduced dramatically. Although, when I think about it, it's more out of choice that my time spent in front of the computer has been reduced, rather than something that has been forced upon me.
This can be explained in two parts: 1) a fantastic new development that you have achieved (YOU NOW TAKE NAPS ALONE), (yes, alone), (as in alone, alone), (like, you don't have to have a living, breathing person pressed against you, alone), (seriously), (couldn't be happier), and 2) we were out of town for your 4 month birthday and therefore I am behind schedule as it is and rather than try to crank out a regular letter and put me even further behind I am going to make this short.
And to any normal person reading this the question might arise: "what does taking naps alone have to do with why this blog is going to be short?". Well, this can be explained like so: now that I no longer have a little cute baby shaped tumor attached to me I can now get more things done around the house. So when said baby shaped tumor is napping I can do things like move crap out of the formally-known-as-the-office-and-now-referred-to-as-the-nursery, or seal the grout to the bathroom floor. Which means less time in front of the computer.
And to the same normal person reading this blog the thought might arise "it would appear that this blog is going to be no shorter than usual at the rate it's going, given that I have been reading for how long? and so far there is not as much depth as there is just a bunch of explaining."
Not to insinuate I ever have much depth to my blogging.
But I will admit that I have a tendency to, shall we say...ramble?
(Notice how I am now rambling about rambling.)
Um.
Well, I'm supposing we should get back to this here post.
Your 3rd month proved to be a bit more on the trying side. Not to say that it was difficult, but we did some learning and there were a few times where I wanted to lock myself in the closet with a bottle of wine and my iPod.
And it was really just one week, near the end of your 3rd month, that was difficult.
It was the week where I got a stomach bug, then you got a head cold, and then we wrapped things up nicely with a growth spurt.
There were a few moments in there where I wondered where my sweet calm adorable baby was and why was this alien with this sudden opinion of his own in my house? You went from being easy going and laid back about pretty much everything to only wanting to eat and sleep. Sounds easy enough...only you went even further and only wanted to nurse in bed - on a certain side of the bed. Imagine my consternation when your father suggested that perhaps you were fussing because you wanted to be nursed on your side of the bed (instead of where I was nursing you - in the middle) and when I humored him and moved you over you shut up. I damn near fell out of bed - the only reason I didn't was due to the fear of moving even in the slightest might disturb your happily nursing (and falling asleep) - something I was desperate to avoid at the time.
But we made it through that week - albeit with a few more bed sores than we went into it with - and now you're bigger, I'm wiser, and we're both getting along just fine again.
In addition to growing a little bit you also picked up a few more tricks during that week. You suck on just about anything you can get your hands on. But mostly you suck on your fingers. In fact, you'll be interested in pulling something to your mouth and then when you get that object to your mouth it's as if you're just discovering your hands all over again and you get all excited, drop the item you were deftly trying to maneuver into you mouth, and start sucking on your fingers.WOO HOO fingers!
The drool is an interesting side effect. It gets everywhere, and I'm busy trying to remember to put a bib on you whenever I can so you don't soak your clothes constantly. But you seem happy as ever, drool or no drool.
And I'm just happy to see you developing right on plan - drool and all.
Another fantastic trick is your talking. You are one little chatter box these days. Mostly only to me though. In public you are more concerned with people watching and observing your surroundings. But at home you are busy busy busy. You've got so much to say and you love it when we have our little conversations. I love talking to you, and I'm learning so many new words and nuances and fluctuations to your voice - it's making giving you what you need/want just a little bit easier. I make a point to talk to you just about every opportunity I've got. I've become quite good at narrating everything I do. Which, to an outsider, has got to be amusing - especially when wandering the aisles of the grocery store discussing at great depth our agenda for the rest of the day.
We wrapped up the last week of your 3rd month in Virginia with Michele and John. This was a very exciting time for me because not only was it our first plane trip together, but it was also the first time you met Michele. The plane ride went off with only one hitch - the airline (VIRGIN AMERICA) lost our seat reservation and put us in the very last row that DID NOT RECLINE. At first I was quite irritated, but the seats are pretty comfortable on their own, and the proximity to the galley proved to be quite useful as I could jump up and down as needed with you. I tried nursing you at take-off to help keep you calm and reduce discomfort with your ears, but the moment the engines flared up and the cabin started to rattle you leapt up in my arms and stared at me with a look of pure fear. It was incredibly endearing and I couldn't help but smile as I rocked you and told you everything was ok. You settled back down and for the next hour you flirted with the gay flight attendant over my shoulder. I finally stuck you in the baby carrier and bounced you in the galley to get you to sleep - and you slept peacefully the rest of the flight.
Thank God.
Now if only I could say the return flight was as easy and successful. But that is a story for a whole post in itself - not something I'm going to get into here.
And that just about wraps it up. It only took me a week of taking snippets of time here and there to get this thing cranked out. But there we go - so is the life of the mother of a busy now 4 month old!
All the love and kisses possible,
Mama

If you know what's good for you...

Drop everything and go out and buy the FURminator right now.
A long time ago I was standing in line at Petco when I was intrigued by the video of the FURminator they had playing near the check stands. At the time, while impressed by the device as shown on the video, I was not as impressed by the $39.99 price tag and I promptly checked out with the bag of kittie food and only the bag of kittie food. Sure I like the idea of a shedding tool that would rid my house of the baby Bartleby's rolling all over the place. And sure I'd love to not have to look at my curtains every morning, as the morning sun shines through them, and be reminded that I need to brush them.
Yes.
Brush my curtains.
And then there's the copious amounts of fur left on our furniture, the same fur that during certain times of the year leaves my husband looking red and puffy as though he just had a crying jag while watching Beaches over a pint of Chunky Monkey.
But there's the skeptic in me that knows better than to believe every little video I see while standing in line at the pet store. And I'd be pissed to spend $40 on something that did no better than the cheaper brushes I have taking up space at home.
So what changed my mind?
I was reading Dooce and she mentioned having gotten the tool recently and loving it. Which reminded me of having seen it before. So I did a little internet research and found that there was in fact a whole ton of people who also liked the tool.
And it comes with a money back guarantee - so what the hell.
I went by Petco today, picked one up, and grabbed the feline for what had to have been one of the messiest brushings ever.
And I have to admit I was impressed with the first brush stroke when I lifted the brush to see a wad of fur that looked like the product of a mauling. And then I brushed again and again and again and kept coming back with more fluffs of fur balls.
Bartleby on the other hand wasn't quite sure what to think of it. Mostly I think he was confused that I was touching him given his demotion in the family food chain since we brought Zach home. But once he got over that he seemed to vacillate between being super hyper excited that I was touching him and being slightly turned on.
I tried to ignore him as I was too damned excited to be pulling SO MUCH FUR from him.
Fur that would not end up in the corners of my house. Fur that would not end up smeared all over my curtains. Fur that I would not have to brush from our couch cushions before guests come over.
And I think this is well worth the $39.99 and the scratch marks all over my forearms from a crazed and aroused feline.

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream...

As I was wiping the sleep out of Zach's eyes this morning I was suddenly hit with a memory from childhood I hadn't thought of since, well, probably childhood. One of the many great things I'm finding about motherhood is that it brings back so many memories of your own from when you were little.
When I was young, I'm guessing about 5 or so, my mother used to warn me that if I didn't go to sleep the Sandman wouldn't come. In all the naiveté of a 5 year old I would dutifully obey because I didn't want the Sandman NOT to come. I had no idea who this Sandman guy was, or why it was that he made a business out of delivering sand to children while they slept, but that didn't matter. My mother would deliver the line in such a way that it made it clear to me that I surely did in fact want the man to come.
Note to self - it's all in how you deliver the line to your kid to get them to buy into whatever crap you are giving them.
So my mom would turn out the light after we said our prayers together, kiss me goodnight, and leave the room. And I would lie there trying to picture this Sandman, and he was always HUGE with a sack slung over one shoulder. He was also redheaded with a big bushy beard, and wore clothes like he was something out of J.R.R. Tolkien book. With his sack in tow he would leap in my window, nimbly sprinkle sand into each corner of my eyes, and then out the window he would disappear on to the next child's house.
Why on earth I pictured things this way is beyond me. But I look forward to sharing the same fun with Zach when he's older.
And somehow figure out how to explain to him that while the Sandman is allowed in his bedroom at night, if he actually SEES a man (other than his dad) in his room at night that he should react by kicking that man in the balls and asking questions later.
If it turns out to be the Sandman, then we'll just deal with that when the time comes.

Bathroom vs. Blogger

A miracle has happened.
Sensing that Zach was on the verge of nap time, I put him on his playmat so I could go peel an orange and top off my water in preparation for his mid afternoon nap. His mid afternoon nap typically occurs around 5pm and lasts for maybe an hour where I hang out with him on my lap. I either read or catch up on some Tivo - but the bottom line is that he naps ON me. Not near me. Not in another room. He has to be on me. This is something that became abundantly clear the day we came home from the hospital - our baby is one of those babies that needs to be in constant contact with a living breathing person in order to be content enough to sleep.
I never let it bother me because 1) it's pretty damn cuddly and nice, 2) you eventually learn how to get things done and 3) I figured he'd grow out of it at least by the time he turned 30.
And besides, my philosophy about parenting is to not make a big deal out of things. Eventually you'll either figure it out, or it will work itself out. And by getting all antsy and anxious about something only stresses your kid out and in turn they become more obnoxious and difficult to deal with.
Where was I?
Rereading my rambling...
Oh ok.
So I saw Zach was getting a little heavy in the lids so I put him down to go peel an orange and came back to this:
I'd been noticing since his 3 month growth spurt that he'd been sleeping a lot deeper, which is typical. But I was still pretty surprised when I came into the living room expecting a cuddling session and nap time and this is what I came across.
And now I don't know what to do with myself.
My internal dialog went something like this:
Ohmygod
OHMYGOD
Don't make a sound...back up out of the room quietly and maybe he'll stay that way.
Wait...but we don't want to tip toe around a sleeping baby or he'll never learn to sleep through noises.
Ok...walk casually out of the room like you meant to go in there and then turn around and leave. Like there's nothing unusual. Juuuuuuusssst checking the living room to make sure it's still there.
(in kitchen)
Ohmygod
OHMYGODHE'SASLEEP
and not on me!
I can get something done now!
(looking around)
What needs doing?
Seriously.
What needs doing??
Oh for the love of...have I been unable to do things freely for so long that I no longer have an ongoing list of things to do?
Although I suppose this also means that I am pretty damn efficient at running this house regardless of having a 17lb weight strapped to me most of the time.
This is crazy. Like KUH-razy.
(looking around more, hoping something will leap out at me)
I could clean the bathroom...
Ok, something other than cleaning the bathroom...
I could tile the other bathroom floor.
Let's not get in over our head here Mary. He COULD wake up in 5 minutes.
But what if he doesn't? What if he sleeps for an hour and we just wasted an hour standing dumbfounded in the middle of kitchen going over a list of all the things we could be doing in our head instead of actually DOING something.
When did 'I' become a 'we'?
And there it is. The first time I'm left to my own devices in three months and it only takes me 5 minutes before I've split personalities and had a fight with myself.
Ok, this is stupid. DO SOMETHING.
And then I sat down and decided to blog about it.
Because what better way to procrastinate on cleaning your bathroom than to blog. Screw you bathroom, I've got more important things to do.

A Letter to Zach - Month 3

Dear Zach,
Today you turn 3 months old and you weigh 17lbs 10oz...
This month you really seem to have graduated from being a 'newborn' to being more of a baby. You've gone from sleeping most of the time and only observing the world while you are awake to becoming an active participant in things around you during your waking hours - of which there are many more. Just a couple of weeks ago you started putting things up to your mouth, exploring textures, while learning how your hands work. Your hands seem to have a mind of their own but you're not bothered by it. Instead you take delight when they seem to do what you want, and you don't let it get to you when your too tired or too excited to manage them.
We've had quite the busy month you and I. Now that you're awake more often during the day I've found that you are more easily occupied doing certain things. Thank God. I have to be honest, when you were just home from the hospital I used to read ahead in the baby books. And like in most cases I should have followed the safe advise of never skipping ahead because it didn't take long for me to get to the part about how your newborn will go from sleeping 18-22 hours a day to sleeping only around 12-14. I remember reading that and thinking to myself that it might be quite possible that I will go insane if you are awake for that long. What the hell will I do with you? How will I fill the time? How will I do it without popping uppers?
And where am I going to find a dealer to sell me uppers? I've never had to acquire drugs before. I don't HAVE connections - I am no practiced at this sort of thing. Do drug dealers have profiles on LinkedIn? WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?
But then I resolved to just take the wait and see approach. And sure enough we've figured it out. Turns out that while you are awake more now, you are also more entertained by things because you are just one full time little learning machine. So we spend our days getting things done around the house, I do most of the "doing" and you do most of the observing. You're my little foreman which works out just fine by me. You also still love your bouncy seat most of all, but you've branched out and will spend some time on your play-mat that Grandma Carola gave you. You've found that if you kick and throw your arms and legs around sporadically then occasionally a toy moves or squeaks or rattles. And this little experiment of yours is repeatable with 100% success.
In the interest of trying to be more efficient lately I have started taking you in the shower with me. About half the time you get a bath, but the rest of the time I'll just give you a shower because this can be a lot easier and faster, especially when I've got to get a shower myself. You seem to like them, although I think you're not quite sure what to think of them yet. While clinging to my shoulder you hold very still and look around with big eyes. Meanwhile I've gotten better at juggling you and soaping you up – something that is a bit like trying to hold and pet a piglet that has been dipped in oil. I've found that if I wash myself first, and then bring you in the shower with me to get you clean this is the easiest way to go about it. Once finished I plop you in your bouncy seat in a towel and you sit there very relaxed and content while I rinse and get myself dry.
We've also been spending a lot of time outside playing in the yard. By far this is probably one of your most favorite activities. We find a nice shady spot for you, and while seated in your bouncy chair you kick and coo as I bust my ass in the hot hot sun. But that's ok because by busting my ass I am also slowly whittling away at it and those last few pounds that made themselves at home during my pregnancy with you, of which I am determined to evict by summer. AND it also means that we have beautiful flowers in our front yard to cheer us along, and hopefully divert most people's attention from the awful peeling paint on the house that we have to get around to sanding and repainting.
We took a trip down to my old company in the middle of the month - I say 'old' because while we were there I told my manager that I would not be returning. Something I always knew I'd do, but refused to say for sure until I had to actually make the decision. And I have to say that it was both one of the easiest decisions and hardest decisions I have made in a long time. Staying at home with you feels so right. Every morning I wake up and never for a second doubt that I'm not cut out for this, or wish I had a job to go to. This is what I was made to do. Raising you, watching you grow every day, is absolutely without a doubt one of the most rewarding and special privileges I could ever be given. And for your Dad and I to be able to afford for me to stay at home is a gift I will always be thankful for. But I also worked very hard to get where I was at my company and it was hard to let that go. So as I met with my manager, you perched on my lap smiling and sucking on my hand, we talked about my future and what I wanted to to. And he assured me that I would never have a problem coming back into the industry, that my network is strong and so what if I take a few years to raise my family? If I want to come back it will be there for me, I am sharp, bright, and strong. And he is right. As sad as he was to let me go, he also knew that being at home with you was the biggest priority to me.
And while we hold down the home front, your Dad is off conquering the hearing aid industry with his company. For two weeks we haven't seen much of him as there has been some exciting press around his company's product and that has done nothing but impact your dad's department to the point of near breaking. He's been working 12 hour days only to come home and work on the couch. Things are starting to calm down - not for lack of business, but rather your dad has been busy fixing all the things that broke with all the excitement and now the ship is running a bit smoother. So we're seeing a little bit more of him now and that's definitely a good thing. It's hard to not see him as much, but we know it's for a good cause as it ensures a solid financial standing for our family and enables me to stay at home with you, and it can only last so long before things go back to normal. So we take care of things at home, and greet dad with big hugs, kisses, and smiles when he gets home. And hopefully sooner rather than later his work days will shorten up a bit.
Among all the fun and wonderful things we've been up to this month, you and I have both been fighting our first cold since you were born. Fun stuff. I suffered the worst of it thankfully as you are nicely protected by antibodies I pass to you through my breast milk. But you still have suffered a few symptoms which I'm happy to say don't seem to bother you in the least. You might cough occasionally, or have a stuffy nose in the morning, but you still smile up at me as if to reassure me that it's ok, no biggie, you hardly even notice.
All the love and kisses possible,
Mama

Making lemonade

So I've been fighting this head cold for a few days now and this afternoon was probably the worst yet. Mornings and early afternoons have been totally fine - but once 3ish rolls around I start feeling the cold wear me down.
And today I got home, stuffed Zach in his bouncy seat, sunk into a kitchen chair and just grabbed my head and stared at the floor.
And no matter how you look at it, faux brick linoleum never starts looking good and we are definitely going to have to get rid of it soon. I don't care what Grandma thinks.
After contemplating the certain demise of our kitchen floor it occurred to me that what might be really good is a cup of hot soothing tea. To the pantry I dragged myself and proceeded to dig through the collection of teas.
Black, white, herbal, medicinal, fruity...what oh what should I indulge in. Finally my fingers came to rest on a box of Sore Throat Soothers tea which is my favorite for when I'm ailing...and then it occurs to me that I may have some tea guzzling limitations due to the fact that I'm breastfeeding.
Which is a total buzz kill by the way. When I was pregnant I couldn't wait to be un-pregnant so I could resume eating and drinking the way I had before. Mostly.
I knew there would be restrictions that came with breastfeeding, but I figured it wouldn't be nearly as bad as while pregnant.
And it's not even the fact that there are dietary restrictions you must be concerned with that sucks so much. It's mostly the conundrum of eating anything questionable - and not really knowing if something is safe or not. And if you dare do some research online you'll find the number of websites telling you one thing is safe equals the number of websites telling you it's unsafe and you are a sick sick woman for even considering it and your fetus/child should be taken from you.
I made the mistake of forgetting how painful it is to do this sort of research.
But do not despair - I was reminded within 5 minutes. I threw my box of tea back in the pantry, emailed my La Leche League leader, grabbed Zach and the two of us fell into bed for a nice long nap.
Babies are the BEST nap buddies EVER.
2 hours later I roused to find an email reply from Patty telling me exactly what I figured:
caffeine in moderation, and avoid peppermint and sage as it will hinder your milk supply.
But it was the last line of her email that was the most helpful: "Honey and lemon are good in almost any tea and can reduce coughs."
With that little line of inspiration I wandered outside to our lemon tree (on steroids), (the tree, not me), pulled 3 lemons off of it, squeezed some juice into hot water and drizzled tasty honey from our neighbors bees over it.
Screw the tea.
Sometimes a little simplicity is all you need when feeling under the weather.
Life threw me some lemons - so damn it, I made some tea.

Sunny with a chance of sweat

It's only been 80 degrees here and it still feels like a heat wave out of mid August. All of a sudden the weather went from downright perfect to hot as hell, forcing us to break out shorts and tank tops, throw open all the windows and sleep through the night with only a light cotton sheet.
And I have to keep reminding myself that it's only been 80 degrees during the day.
It's ridiculous.
This happens every year, usually about this time, when the weather goes from a perfect 70 degrees to over 80. Our bodies are so used to the colder winter months, that we have somehow forgot how pleasant 80 degrees feels after a 5 day stretch of 98 degrees.
And this year I'm doing it with a little space heater attached to my hip.
If I ever have a choice about it, I'm going to make sure that we plan the next baby to be born well during the winter - just like Zach - because I can't imagine having to recover from child birth, and lying around the house with an infant in this weather. And next time it will be with an energetic toddler testing my patience and alcohol limitations.
Just like any other man, Zach has been blessed with being perpetually warm. Not such a blessing to me as it turns out, not when it's hot out and I'm the one who's spending the most time holding him.
He's still a bit of a momma's boy.
So I've resorted to just live with it - and taking two showers a day.
And hopefully this "heat wave" will pass soon and I can return to snuggling with my son without breaking out in a sweat and sticking to him.

A letter to Zach - Month 2

Dear Zach,
On Tuesday you turned 2 months old and you weigh 15 lbs 2 oz...
What a sack of potatoes you are becoming! Last month at this time, when I was writing your last letter, I wrote of transition and adjustments both emotionally and to our daily lives. This last month seemed to be more of transition on your part physically as you've added a nice little layer of padding all over and have stretched to just over 2 feet long. As I change your diapers I pinch your chubby little thighs and arms and marvel at how much weight a little baby can put on in such a short amount of time solely off of breastmilk. And at least 5 of the pounds you weigh must be in your cute little cheeks.
This month has been a busy one as you and I have started learning how to be functional together. We've gotten ourselves quite a nice little routine which couldn't make me happier - as you get older you'll learn how much your mom likes routines.
Consider this your warning.
And if you want sympathy your father is more than happy to commiserate.
Our mornings are usually spent with you in your bouncy chair while I busy myself with a shower and getting myself fed, and if I'm really lucky I get a little extra time to pick up around the house before you ask for your mid-morning snack. I try to squeeze in some tummy time - but you're not the biggest fan. It's not as though you dislike it, it's more like you just don't see the point. You might lift your head a few times, but then you rest your head down and just look around being the content little baby you are. There's no point in your just lying on your belly on the floor, so I pick you up and try again the next day.
The beginning of the month started off with you accomplishing the milestone I was most looking forward to: smiling. Nothing prepared me for the idiot I would become at the sight of your smiles. I spend SO much time in front of your little face, doing whatever I can to illicit another smile from you. You often tease me with little closed mouth smiles - but every once in a while I hit the jackpot and you reward me with a big open mouth smile coupled with kicking and squeals.
You've also learned that if I'm near and you stick your tongue out at me, I might stick my tongue back out at you. This has you quite excited, and after you've tested me a few times and I comply, you then start sticking your tongue in and out rapidly over and over again. And like the good well trained mom I am, I do it back. My reward? Big smiles with kicks and squeals.
So now that we've got the smiling milestone taken care of - I'll just have to sit tight and look forward to your next highly anticipated milestone: graduating from college.
Earlier this month I started pumping breastmilk a little bit so we could start seeing how you'd like the bottle. Don't get me wrong, I love breastfeeding you, but sometimes Mom needs to get away for a little bit so she can go to the gym, get a pedicure, or drink 3 martinis and forget her name. And as if you knew how important it was to me that I maintain at least a little bit of my alcohol tolerance you took that bottle as if it was totally normal. You took it so easily in fact, that I almost felt a little offended and jealous, as if that bottle could replace me. But I got over it. And I've successfully made it to the gym a few times now, and your Dad only looks a little crazed when I get back. That's all I ask.
I thought I'd end this post on the topic of laundry, and how I can proudly say that we are now down to doing only 2 extra loads a week now - an accomplishment that I am very happy about every Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, and Sunday, when I'm not busy doing more laundry. We hit this monumental achievement when you're bladder finally grew large enough that the mere opening of your diaper wasn't enough to trigger your pissing everywhere. The first few times we thought it was cute. But by the 173rd time I thought that it was getting a little old. And having to change your clothes, your new diaper (as you always manage to pee on the NEW diaper), the changing table cover, and anything that happened to be near by, was getting a little time consuming.
And I'd just like to point out here that I had NO IDEA how much pee a baby could hold. Let us pause for a moment and think about it: I would have to change your clothes, new diaper, and changing table cover. That's a lot of carnage. And this is AFTER you already wet your diaper which is why I was even taking your diaper off in the first place.
But I knew the day would come soon when you'd outgrow the habit, and sure enough here we are. I'm even so bold as to sometimes not cover your parts with a washcloth while I'm changing you. I know - SO bold.
All the love and kisses possible,
Mama

Well, what did I expect?

We made it through Zach's 8 week check-up reasonably well. The only negative part was when he had to get his routine vaccines and I nearly cried.
Seriously, truly truly awful. And it took a tremendous amount of strength to not hit the nurse administering them.
But as I suspected Zach was a real trouper, only crying a little, then nursing contentedly to sleep. Where he then slept the sleep of the dead until we got home.
We learned that he's right on track with all his milestones, and has grown to 24.5 inches and weighs 14 pounds.
Which my back could have told me.
Still, a little bit of a surprise that he's growing so rapidly. Can hardly believe he's nearly doubled his birth weight. At this rate he should be taller than me by the age of 5.
Trevor found a nifty percentile tracking tool online and has posted about it on his blog. According to the national percentiles, if Zach keeps on his current trend, he should be roughly 3 feet tall at age 2.
That's to my hip.

Walking and Watching

It's amazing how much more you observe while walking. At first, as I would go on my daily walks with Zach, I would marvel at the houses in my neighborhood that I never even actually noticed before. Gradually I started studying landscapes, enjoying the flowers as they transitioned from buds to full plump blooms ready to fall from their tree limbs.
Walking slows everything down.
And if you're an idiot like me and forget you own an iPod (two in fact) there's nothing else for you to do but think or enjoy the scenery.
(I have since realized that not only do I own an iPod, but it works outdoors even - so now I enjoy the flowers AND Timbaland).
Among the flowers and houses, I've also been observing people more.
Yesterday I went for a walk with Zach in his carrier downtown after we had checked out our new local library. Lots of people to observe downtown. And yesterday the type of people were more interesting than I expected.
I should probably explain that downtown Alameda is very quaint and charming. Small mom n' pop shops, new burgeoning restaurants peppered amongst old popular favorites...for the most part clean, safe, and, well, just charming and quaint.
So imagine my surprise when I walked right by a kid sitting outside the bagel shop rolling a blunt.
In plain daylight.
On a busy street.
Where cops frequent.
In a neighborhood where the biggest offense is violating the 25mph speed limit. Not smoking pot in broad daylight in front of everyone. Or rolling a big fat doobie.
And then there was the Hari Krishna 5 minutes later - wondering down the street with his mat and drum.
I should iterate here that this is Alameda - not Santa Cruz. Not Berkeley.
Close in proximity maybe - but not in culture.
To top off my day of people watching, I was amused to watch a kid of maybe 10 years old wondering home from school sucking on a can of whipped cream. Nozzle shoved in his mouth like a straw. Sucking it down like it was totally normal, and not the least bit unhealthy, to be consuming an entire can of whipped cream.
He was at least 20 pounds over weight, and obviously working on doubling that number by summer.
At least he was getting some excersize I suppose.

All I needed was a little fix

Today has turned out to be a great day.
Brace yourselves - because a lot of you will think I'm insane - but today was SO great because I went back to the gym for the first time in 7 weeks and 4 days.
I love the gym.
The gym keeps me sane.
It's the place I have gone to on average for 5 days a week for the past...holy shit...7 years? Michele, you're going to have to help me out here because it's your fault I ever went in the first place.
The point is, the gym and I have been long time friends. It's been one of the most consistent parts of my life that I've had. And to take over 7 weeks off made me feel as if I was neglecting myself. It has been something that has been so much a part of my daily life - and to suddenly go without it left a distinct void in every day.
It almost felt strange that I was busy recovering from labor and delivery and going to the gym wasn't part of the process. To me getting a workout into my day helps me de-stress. I can sweat it out and relax my muscles. During some of the most tiresome and stressful times in my life I would go to the gym, get in my workout, shower, put my feet up, and feel some of the greatest relaxation ever.
I know there are people out there who will insist that 'I just had a baby - of course I should relax' and 'you're body just went through a tremendous ordeal..'.
And yea yea yea, I know. Blah blah blah.
But I was feeling damn good about 3 days home from the hospital - so it felt odd to not be going.
Cut to over 7 weeks later and I've been going a little stir crazy lately with just walking keeping me going.
And naturally my body is used to the 5-day a week workout, so my metabolism is shot to shit.
I've been jonesing for a good workout for about 4 weeks now.
So like a heroine addict stealing his grandmother's TV, I've been spending the past couple of days pumping milk so I would have enough to leave in the fridge for Trevor in case Zach needed a feeding while I was gone.
I fed Zach, suited up, pecked both my boys on the cheek, and off to the gym I went. And for 1 hour I stepped back in time. I went back to a time before Zachary, and it was so familiar and so comforting. I spent an hour reconnecting with my old self. Someone who I haven't missed per se - but someone I wouldn't mind visiting for an hour a day, 5 days a week. Someone who I'd like to remember, because even though I've been redefined as a mommy, I'd also like to keep a part of my old self - the part that felt sexy and energetic in her own skin. I may be a mom to Zach, but I'm still my husbands wife. And more importantly I'm still a woman that I care about and want to respect when she looks in the mirror in the morning.
And now I'm back, showered, feet up, and the sounds of snoring from the living room serenade me. My men are crashed on the couch taking a hard earned snooze.
It's hard when mom goes to the gym.

Sincere Flattery - and a letter to Zach

I hate to imitate given that I prefer to be creative and unique on my own. But in this case I simple can't resist ripping off Dooce and writing a monthly letter to my son. First of all it's a great idea, and secondly it's the best way I know how to keep track of all these wonderful moments and memories that Zach and I are creating daily.

So here goes...

Dear Zach,
Today you turn 1 month old and weigh 11lbs even...
And as though you remembered how hard it was for me one month ago today giving birth to you, you gave me a break this morning and woke up quietly and sweetly and as I roused to the sound of your little critter-sounding noises I thought about how I am one lucky Mama.
This month has been a very busy one for you, and one full of transition for me.
For me, becoming a full-time stay at home mom to you has pretty much met my expectations. It has it's moments of when I'm trying to figure out how on earth I'm going to brush my teeth, or when I'm trying to decide just how miserable we'll be if we go without coffee for a couple more days and then you surprise me (and hell, I surprise myself) and we somehow manage to not only practice good oral hygiene but also go to the store. And it’s those moments that I am full of pride in both of us because as trivial as these activities may have been before you came along, I now realize just how complicated they can be when you have a little companion in need of your constant love and attention.
But overall the transition has been an easy one I was apparently ready for - and thank god for that.
You are without a doubt the most entertaining science experiment your father and I have ever attempted.
Hell, we're still shocked that we managed to conceive a baby. So imagine our surprise just about every day when we look at you, with all your perfect fingers and toes, with your little innie belly button, with your dark head of sweet smelling baby hair - we just simply feel astounded most of the time that we managed to produce something so wonderful out of virtually thin air.
And I can't believe I just used the word 'hell' in a letter to my infant son.
Anyway.
In just one month you've managed to surprise us further, as if creating you wasn't enough of a shocker.
It seems as though every day you become just a little more playful. You have a whole collection of noises that I've learned to identify with different emotions and needs. And they continue to bring a smile to my face each and every time - like the ridiculous new parent that I am. You've also been working on your smile most recently. It still seems like a fluke facial reaction that you don't quite have control over, but it's there and every once in a while we're surprised with a glimpse of what your little face will look like lit up with a smile. We're looking forward to the coming month or so when you'll actually learn to make that smile pop up at will. And you certainly are entertained when I smile at you with my big sappy mothering grins.
I'm happy to report that you love to take baths. Your first couple of weeks home you could have done without the terrible technicality of having to get clean periodically. We'd sponge you off, gradually moving on to dipping you into a little wash basin after your umbilical stump fell off - and you hated it. You'd cry that alarming cry of yours that we've come to learn is your 'I'm being serious you assholes' cry. By week three I thought you were big enough to break out the fancy baby tub, complete with infant sling, to bathe you in. I had a grand idea that perhaps you would feel more comfortable in this than slipping and sliding in our hands. I made the big mistake of trusting one of those fancy rubber ducky temperature thingies - the kind that has a big "HOT" sign that glows if the water is too warm. I took it a little too literally, and when it said "hot" I assumed (like the trusting consumer that I am) that the water was too hot and I added more cold water. You cried through that entire bath - much like your previous baths - and I assumed you just still weren't digging the baths yet. That is, until your father came and stuck his hand in the water and pointed out that I wouldn't enjoy taking a bath in that water either. Since then I've put your dad in charge of filling your tub with water, and coincidentally you've started to love your baths. In fact I love your baths as well. There's nothing greater than watching you kick and make 'cooing' noises and I could just eat you up each and every bath time. And your dad has not hesitated in giving me shit for the water temperature mishap once, so we all win.
And thank god for your bouncy seat, for without which I would not get showers, eat more than an apple for lunch, and we would have no clean clothes. You love that little seat and can waste 30 minutes kicking and making delighted sounded noises as you learn that when you kick you then bounce. More recently I sometimes catch you looking at the little grasshopper toy that dangles in your field of vision. Or dragonfly. Or whatever kind of generic insect it is. And we sometimes talk about how is unidentifiable and how it's a good thing your mother didn't go into Entomology because not only would that be a really boring profession, but I would be no good at it.
Of course your first month in this world has had a few bumps. About two weeks ago you started suffering from gas which doesn't look like any fun from our perspective. You power through it like a real trooper though; you've always been so mellow and calm. But I hate seeing you squirm and cry when it's really bothersome. And now it seems like you're getting used to it, or maybe the pain isn't as bad. Which to a new mom is a real relief considering that every day I hope it doesn't get worse and turn into the dreaded colic. And I don't discount the fact that you could develop colic at some point still, and I cross all my fingers and toes that you don't.
And then there was the moment a few days ago when I knocked a canister of tennis balls on your head. You kind of didn’t care for that all that much either.
Forgive me my little peanut – we’re new parents and still learning the ropes.
And apparently I am still learning about gravity.
All the love and kisses possible,
Mama