Little Green Monster and Other Firsts

I had my first totally irrational tinge of baby jealousy today. A friend of Chris' who had her baby about a week after us also keeps up a blog in which she posted about her pregnancy and now about her life with baby. I hadn't looked at her blog in awhile, so in the couple brief moments of happy-sleeping-Kayla that I've had today, I decided to take a look and see what she had to report and that's when it happened...GREEN MONSTER. A small Green Monster, but a Green Monster nonetheless. Her baby is smiling! Smiling! She does say that it's not easy to get a smile out of the baby, which could be proud mom code for "The baby occasionally smiles accidentally, but we like to think it's on purpose because how much more fun is that?" I'm not judging. In fact, I TOTALLY feel that way and would completely understand if she was, in fact, exaggerating the frequency/significance of the smiles. But she not only says baby is smiling, but she has photo proof! I am so jealous! I absolutely, positively cannot wait for Kayla to start smiling at us on a regular basis. We occasionally get smiles now, but they are still few and far between and, to be honest, the blank wall, bedroom mirror, and Mr. Panda probably get just as many smiles and coos directed at them. In all fairness, all the books say that babies don't typically start smiling at you (on purpose) until between 6 and 8 weeks. Kayla is not even quite 6 weeks yet (but tomorrow is a-comin' little girl...), so it's really unfair to be wanting her to get a move on smile-wise. Guess maybe having over-achiever parents could be a little annoying after all, huh? I can't help it though...I so want her to smile AT ME...often...on purpose...it's like waiting for her to finally say "I love you".

Yesterday, I not only couldn't get a smile out of her, but she didn't even want to look at me! Usually my face is one of her favorite items of interest, but yesterday it was like I had suddenly become "sooo last week" and only during one especially energetic round of dancing/singing did I get so much as some eye contact. What was she interested in? Her bouncy chair, dancing and bouncing to the Baby's Playlist on my iPod, and, most of all, her favorite source of entertainment, the mirror above her changing table. I don't mean that she is looking in the mirror. No, no. She is completely obsessed with the dark, metal, swirly frame around the mirror. All I can think is that it is the way it stands out against the white wall behind it, but seriously...she spent a solid 10 minutes - an eternity in baby land - staring at that frame. It almost hurt my feelings. I couldn't get any eye contact to save my life, but that frame got a focused 10 minutes of wide-eyed looks and coos. Coos! Seriously...she coos for the frame, but not for the woman who feeds, changes, and cuddles her on a constant rotating schedule all day, EVERY day? I think she is toying with my emotions and it is just rude.





In other baby news, Kayla took her first ferry ride yesterday. She was going into Manhattan to meet Daddy for dinner after work. She stayed awake the entire ride, wide-eyed and looking...well...scared. Every time the boat went up and over a wave her arms shot out in that adorable startle reflex and her eyes got wide, like "WHAT THE????" She was a good sport though; didn't cry once.







Today, Kayla and I went down to the waterfront to watch the ships parade down the Hudson for the start of Fleet Week. We were a little late getting down, but still managed to catch the air craft carrier and a couple other small ships near the end of the parade. Okay, when I say "we"...Kayla stayed completely conked out in her carrier the entire time, not the slightest bit interested in the ships. Of course, the kid can only see objects that are within 18 inches of her face right now, so you can hardly blame her for not being wowed by the spectacle. Her mommy, on the other hand, diligently took pics and then contemplated the sadness of being both married and a mother when thousands of men in uniform are coming into your city...alas...but I digress.



Now, we're at home, wasting the afternoon away. I tried desperately to keep Miss Kayla awake, but let's be honest...there are only so many ways to entertain a 6 week old and once she makes up her mind to go to sleep, there is pretty much no stopping her. And so, she is now resting happily in her bouncer, after resting happily on mommy's lap, then the couch, then mommy's arms...it's a rough life.

Today, I became the Queen of my domain. Today, I looked baby paraphernalia in the face and said "You shall not intimidate me anymore! I am the master of YOU!" Today, I accomplished a feat so impressive, so daring...

Today...

I conquered...

The Baby Bjorn!

That's right! That crazy baby carrier has met its match. Today, I flung that sucker down upon the couch, stared it in the eye and said "The time has come, my friend. Today, I figure out how the heck you work and you and I become one." That's right, today I gave a couple pieces of fabric and some plastic snaps the what-for and, goldarnit, I am proud of it.

Least you think this is no big deal, you should know that the Baby Bjorn has defeated others before me. When Chris tried to make the Baby Bjorn bend to his will, this was the result:



Today though, I showed that Baby Bjorn who was boss and not only did I get it to fit properly, but I fit it so well that I wasn't afraid to place my precious baby (who LOVES the Baby Bjorn, by the way), into it's gaping maw.

Today, I am Mother of the Universe. Today, I win.

Outdone

After being informed by the doctor that Kayla should be getting at least four ten-minute periods of Tummy Time each day and that no, her lifting her head while cuddling happily on our chests does not count, we have diligently tried to start submitting Kayla to a total 40 minutes of Tummy Time on a floor mat each day. This does not make for a happy Kayla. Apparently, though she seems to have the strongest newborn neck ever seen, she does NOT like to be forced to exercise it. It's as though she's saying, "Listen, Parental Units, I have proven my neck strength on multiple occasions. What is with this forced exercise regimen? What is this, the newborn version of P90X?!"

As she does not exactly love Tummy Time, she originally started out whining and crying her way through the 10 minutes. The doctor told us that we are not to pick her up when the crying starts and that, in fact, she learns better when frustrated because it means she really WANTS to get out of the position, forcing her to move her head. Riiiiiiight. Unfortunately, Doc, our baby is a little smarter than that. Upon realizing that we aren't going to rescue her from the dreaded Tummy Time, she merely developed her own way of escaping. It is called sleep. That's right, our baby has perfected the art of falling asleep when confronted with something she doesn't like. Put her on her tummy, she struggles and fusses for a few minutes before sighing and then snuggling down into the mat for a nap. Sneaky, sneaky child. I mean really...does this look like neck strengthening to you? We tried Doc, we tried, but I think, perchance, we have been outdone. Jury?



I rest (Pun intended! Pun intended!) my case.

Brave Idiocy or Idiotic Bravery

Tomorrow Kayla and I leave behind the helpful haven that is Grandma and Grandpa's house to return home to NJ. While we are super excited to get home to Daddy, we are not super excited about the 7+ hour drive. Mercifully, very sweet Aunt Kristen has agreed to do the drive with us, so mommy does at least have some back-up in case things go terribly awry, but alas, the driving is still 100% mommy's responsibility as Uncle John is a slacker who never taught Aunt Kristen to drive stick like he promised he would. Lame.

Anywho...so yes, a very brave Aunt Kristen will be accompanying us on our mega long drive home tomorrow. Usually Kayla is really good in the car, dozing happily to the sound and vibration of the engine. I'm hoping that's the case tomorrow, even though her sleeping most of the drive will likely mean her being awake all night Thursday night. I suppose her not sleeping vs her screaming the whole way home is, indeed, the lesser of two evils, but still...with a long drive and an as much as guaranteed night of no sleep looming ahead of me, it's hard not to feel exhausted already. I'm hoping that I'll be able to pass Kayla off to Kristen and Grandma for most of the night tonight, letting me at least get somewhat rested for the trip. Once again, it is hard to fathom how much easier (and of course drearier, less meaningful, and less love-filled) life was pre-Kayla (2009 B.K.)...packing up our stuff this evening, I couldn't help but be shocked again by how much baggage this kid requires. I also am routinely astonished by how much longer it takes to get ready to go anywhere with her. Between trying to gather her things, make sure she's fed, changed, changed again...there is no more running out of the house for a bit. It is a production to get her ready to go anywhere for more than a few minutes and so, I am just learning that you better start preparing to leave much sooner than you would have previously. But not TOO soon, mind you, less you start the process (feed, change...) too early and find yourself merely having to repeat it all over again by the time you actually need to leave. Parenthood is certainly nothing if not a learning curve.

Needless to say, it is bitter sweet to be leaving Williamsburg. The last three weeks have been WONDERFUL. I couldn't have asked for anything better in terms of support and encouragement. Kayla is such a lucky girl to have so many wonderful people ready and available to love her unconditionally and so, really, am I. This week my mom, dad, John, Erik, Kristen, Grandma, Grandpa, and Jessica have all been such huge sources of support and help. The old saying about it "takes a village" certainly holds true. There is nothing to bolster your strength like a trip home with the family. Most of all, I owe so much to my mom this week. Never have I thought she was less than an amazing mother (except maybe for a brief period when I was about 12/13, but hey, she was SOOO much less cool then...), but this week I realized just how incredible she is. Being a new mom, I am realizing what it truly took for her to raise four kids and to raise them this well. I am also realizing that she will be just as incredible a grandmother - the way she holds Kayla, the way she looks at her, the way I know that she is going to miss us terribly when we go...all those things tug at my heart and make me wish that we could leave just a few miles away rather than 7+ hours.

Thank you, Family, for an amazing week. Kayla and I will miss you more than we can say (at least without bursting into goodbye tears).









More pictures to follow...

The Great, The Grand, and the Mama

Tonight my grandparents/Kayla's great grandparents come to Williamsburg. Aside from this being super exciting since it's the first time they will meet little Kayla (please be on good behavior, please be on good behavior), it also meant that this morning I had to pack up our two weeks worth of accumulated goods so that we could relocate from the downstairs guestroom to the upstairs guestroom. Since we've been here so long, I had completely unpacked us and while previously this might have meant Chris and I had each filled one or two drawers and a couple of hangers in the closet, with Kayla here, "unpacked" takes on a whole new meaning. It means I have our diapers and wipes out and organized in the changing table compartments, along with diaper cream, washcloths, rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, etc. It means that Kayla is occupying two drawers of her own, organized into sleeping outfits vs waking outfits, bath paraphernalia, burp cloths, and blankets. It also means that we have out the co-sleeper, my breast pump and all its attachments, pacifiers, my stereo and iPod (complete with baby's own playlist), the laptop, various camera equipment (a new parent never leaves home without a camera!), a pack-n-play crib, etc., etc., etc. Needless to say, packing to move upstairs is significantly more painful than it likely should be. The greatest revelation during this whole process though (aside from the fact that babies really DO require a tremendous amount of stuff), is that I am already having to pack away some of Kayla's newborn clothes! Emptying out her drawers today, I pulled out a sleeper and three little shirts, the only things that actually fit her in the couple weeks after she was born, and realized that they no longer come close to fitting her! I was hoping to dress her up in the little footed froggy outfit that her Great Grandma bought her, but alas! After only two wears, it is now way too small and she can't stretch out her little legs when forced into it. I knew she was growing, but seeing how little some of her newborn clothes now look on her/compared to her, it is mind-boggling to realize how much and how fast she really is changing. Now, if I could just get her to start reliably changing her sleeping schedule...but a new parent mustn't be in too big a rush for their baby to "grow up", right? I should enjoy these nights when she would rather play than sleep and these days when she can't seem to pry her eyes open. I should relish the fact that just when I've accepted that fate she then teases me by spending a whole day wide awake and playful, followed by a whole night with 4 hour intervals in between eating. I should enjoy the spastic nature of her schedule because it means that she is still an infant and we are not yet having to say goodbye to her newborn days. Yes. Yes, that is the attitude. Now, where are my caffeine pills and Valium? (I kid! I kid!)

Miss Kayla

It's amazing how much Kayla has "grown up" in just a few short weeks. Not only is she filling out (drinking 4oz in one feeding will do that!) but she's getting to be more and more wakeful and responsive every day. Last night, for instance, I think she made the connection, for the first time, that those crazy pink things that go flying past her face from time to time actually belong to her. "My God," you could almost hear her exclaim, "You are mine and I can control you," as one small hand came whizzing past her face and she suddenly focused on it, halted it in mid-air, and slowly, ever so slowly, brought it to her mouth. VICTORY!! Since then she has perfected this move so that she can now single out an individual thumb for a contented round of sucking. Pretty impressive stuff for someone who is just over three weeks old. Her parents are both proud and terrified that this means they will be forcing her to wear mittens or nasty tasting thumb goo to kindergarten.

But truly, Kayla is becoming more and more of a baby and less and less of a newborn every day.

Let's review:

Brand New Kayla



One Week Kayla



Two Week Kayla (I can focus on Mr. Panda now!)



and now Three Week Kayla who loves faces and lights and her swing and who is going to smile at mommy any day now, mommy just knows it.



In some ways parenthood still feels so new and in others, it feels like we've been doing this for years. I guess that is one of the great miracles of parenthood, that you can both feel like a natural and feel totally out of your element at the same time. When I was six months pregnant, I explained to a friend that the whole thing still felt so surreal...that even though I had now fully come to believe in the pregnancy, I still couldn't quite grasp/believe that we were going to get a BABY at the end of it. I remember her laughing and saying that even once you have the baby it is still surreal...you can never quite believe that they are there and they are yours and that you MADE them. Wow, was she ever right.

Things That Make You Go, "Hmmm...."

Surely it is one of the great mysteries of life that something so little and sweet can make something so smelly and gross. I have heard tons of people talk about how "cute" baby poop is and listen, my baby is adorable and I do not even flinch when cleaning up her messiest of messes, that said, baby pooh...not cute. A shocking shade of orange? A watery mess? An amazing propensity to travel up the back and down the legs? Yes, yes, and yes. But cute? Admittedly there is something highly entertaining about having this tiny little bundle of adorable baby suddenly grit its...gums...and then let out an earth shattering fart that only a father could love, but trying to clean up a Code Red monster poop at 4am with your contacts out, not cute, just nasty.

To illustrate the poop point, allow me to tell you a little story about one of your first outings as a family. When Kayla was only a few days old, one of our first lengthy trips out of the house was to the doctor's office. We knew we would be gone a few hours, between the car ride and office visit, so we dutifully packed the diaper bag with everything we could possibly imagine as being necessary. Multiple diapers, check. Wipes, check. Burp cloth and blanket, check. Bottle in case of emergency need to feed in the car, check. Breastfeeding cover, check. And we kept right on checking off items until we were darn sure that we had it all covered and then off we set, feeling pretty parentally accomplished for only having had a baby for a few days. By the time we arrived at the doctor's office 30 minutes later, it was clear that Kayla had a dirty diaper (again I say how can something so small be SO stinky??) and so I confidently took her and the diaper bag full of supplies into the women's restroom for a quick pre-appointment change. I adeptly set up the little restroom changing table, covering it with our changing pad and laying out a diaper and the wipes, then I put Kayla down, unbuttoning and whipping up her clothes like an old pro. Then I undid her diaper and started in with the wipes. This is where it all went wrong...As I was halfway through wiping her up, suddenly she projectile, and I mean PROJECTILE like the little spinning-head girl in the Exorcist projectile, pooped all over the changing pad, all over the changing table, and I think even down onto the floor. I leapt to cover her with the old diaper, but it was far too late and as I watched in horror, the pooh (remember...infant pooh = watery) began to retreat, running back up the changing table, back over the changing pad and up and up, covering Kayla's back in nasty mess.

At this point new mom says "AAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!"

And then, as I am still trying to figure out what the HECK to do now, Kayla pauses, smiles and then proceeds to go for round two, once again projectile pooping and, this time, adding a lovely stream of urine to the mixture. A friend informed me that telling this story is not nice as it will humiliate Kayla and she can't defend herself. I say, if she can projectile pooh on me, all is fair....

At any rate, as Round Two is going on, I am now doubled over laughing, because what else can you do?? I mean, seriously, it is pretty hilarious that she could manage to get me THAT good, plus, at this point, I have realized that the one thing we super-organized-hero-parents did not pack...a change of clothes for the baby. Are you hearing me? NO CHANGE OF CLOTHES. This kid is now covered in all sorts of bodily fluids, we have to head in to see a doctor for the first time, and we are going to look like the worst parents ever because she is going to be covered in her own feces. So, I did the best I could. I took off her pants and threw their barely recognizable selves into the diaper bag. I used a wet cloth to clean off the back of her shirt as best I could. I put on a new diaper after doing my best to wash off her little body in the sink and then I wrapped her in a blanket because that was the closest thing I had to a change of clothes. Then I washed off the now orange changing pad in the sink, did my best to scrub the public changing table (now also died a lovely shade of citrus), packed my child back into her car seat and exited the bathroom to tell her father "You will never believe what our precious angel just did...".

And so, I say to you, #1 ALWAYS pack extra clothes. Not one set, but two or three or maybe even four, because you just NEVER know. Babies are sneaky and they will get you with their projectile capabilities at some point. And #2 While utterly hilarious at times, baby pooh is not, I repeat not, cute. It is loud and smelly and a shocking shade of orange, and you will spend an inordinate amount of time looking at it and talking about it, but it is not cute.

I Get By With a Little Help From My Friends

Today we head down to Williamsburg to take advantage of a little Grandparent assistance. Though a part of me feels like we should stay here and tough it out, proving that I can do this alone, a smarter, less prideful part of me has realized that asking for help is not a sign of weakness, it is the mark of being a realist. For the last few nights, poor Miss Kayla has been suffering from a very gassy stomach. You can literally hear her little tummy gurgling every time she feeds and then you can watch her poor face contort as she struggles through a bout of gas. It is so hard to watch her little legs pump, her arms flail, and her face turn three shades of red as she suffers through the turmoil that is going on in her stomach. Apparently, she has decided that she no longer wants to suffer in silence and so, the gas has also helped her to find her lungs, which she is giving quite the workout as she screams and grunts her way through these little attacks. Unfortunately, if baby ain't happy, ain't nobody happy, so her mom and dad have likewise been pained by her bloated belly, not just because we hate to see her suffer, but also because we are now going on night 3 or 4 of VERY limited sleep and a whole lot of eardrum shattering screaming. As it turns out, wo/man cannot survive on 2 hours of sleep alone. After three nights of 2-3 hours of sleep, mommy finally broke down this morning and admitted that if she doesn't get a solid block of sleep sometime in the next couple days, her body may just shutdown and refuse to wake back up. I am definitely noticing a pattern with pregnancy, labor, and now motherhood. All the things you deal with/go through, while finite in duration, also have undefined timelines for duration. Again, if someone could just say "Hey, listen, I know this gas thing is bad, but it will only last for 12 days and then you'll be good to go," you could power through. But when you read that gas and colic go hand in hand and that colic can last up to three months...well...three months of 4 hours of sleep a week is VERY different than two weeks of limited sleep. And so, we're off to Grandma's house for some help and support.

I'm also off on a new diet scheme. According to the doc and various friends, there are a large number of foods than can wreak havoc on a breastfed baby's belly: broccoli, cabbage, onions, dairy, tomato sauces...PS It is shockingly hard to avoid onions and dairy. You would not believe how many things they sneak into. Seriously, try cutting those two things out for a week. Not easy. But, if it might help poor little Kayla feel better, I will manage!

And now, I'm off to pack for our trip. As an aside, packing for a two week get-away with a baby is a little more involved than packing for a two week trip with just you and the hubby. The amount of paraphernalia that is getting packed into the car is amazing. The neighbors are likely writing up "Bon Voyage" cards for us as we speak, since surely we look like we are moving out.

Wish us luck on our first long car ride!
The Ducks