Doodle's Tenth Christmas, John's First

Doodle and John, NYC ~ December 12, 2010

John actively noticed his furry big sister a couple months ago, and when she'd slink into his line of vision, he'd smile with a "Heh," and then she'd run away. Now he tries to get to the cat by semi-crawling (pulling himself military-style) across the floor. Doodle of course is 1000 times faster than John is on his best day, often sprinting out of sight before he even knows what happened. She's not exactly terrified of the baby like she is of the balance ball--because she still joins us all on the sofa or bed looking for affection--she's just smart enough to know he can't be trusted, and things are going to get a lot uglier when he can walk. I placed the step ladder up against the wall unit so that she has her very own sleeping perch high above the loud, sticky, flailing miniature person and she loves it. Soon enough she'll be living up there, descending only to eat and use the litter box. Which reminds me of another matter yet to unfold: the day John discovers the litter box. That will be an exciting day for all. (Are you also picturing turds flung about, fur flying, and Mommy crying?) 

So This is Christmas?

John, NYC ~ December 17, 2010



Hot Stuff



(At left): John as The Heat Miser, NYC ~ December 9, 2010. (At right): Mr. Heat Miser as Himself, South Town ~ December 24, 1920's - Rankin/Bass' The Year Without a Santa Claus, 1974

John Presents: This is Barf

John, NYC ~ Sunday, December 4, 2010

John Will Teach You How to Eat a Banana

John, NYC ~ November 28, 2010

John feeding himself a banana for the first time.

It helps if you have fat, pudgy meathooks with which to hold the banana, apparently.  

You've come a long way, baby!

No, You Can't Have It All

So while you're enjoying some things and missing out on others, why not paint a pumpkin to look exactly* like your baby?

John, NYC ~ November 11, 2010

*Okay, maybe not exactly like your baby (I didn't get the ears right) 

HELLO!

I missed you so!

Remember me?

I don't either!

If you told me five years ago (heck, two years ago) that I'd be up to my elbows making sweetpotato/broccoli/beet/pear puree for my son instead of ordering another round at a local happy hour, I'd assume you were either crazy or talking to the person next to me.

But lo and behold, this is what I do now. Isn't that interesting? I wish I had more time to tell you about all the interesting things! The hiccup in the XYZ firewall has allowed me to tell you this latest interesting thing. Let's hope the hiccup lasts awhile.

Love,
Anne

Shades of Boog

John's been in day care for approximately three weeks now, and I can honestly say that he's thriving.

Incidentally, so is his mucous production.

It's no surprise he's sick, really. All the babies sit in their exersaucers and chew on the toys, and then they're rotated around the room and inevitably chew on the toy that the last baby chewed on. So basically, John ate a bunch of "Adam's" boogers last week and now they've set up shop in John's nose. I wondered why the teachers neglected to wipe Adam's mucous off of his face until John got a case of them; the sludge is nearly impossible to keep up with. That's where the Booger Bulb comes in. John hates it. He struggles to get away from the Booger Bulb by thrashing his head from side to side, and before you know it, he's got snot all over his grill. Ah, well. We're building up that immune system, with rounds of shots at the pediatrician and 5 days a week in a room with other kids.

Speaking of other kids, RW was promoted to the 1-2 year old room, so he's not disrupting the baby room anymore with his crying jags. One of the teachers told me that they know it's time to "promote" an 11 month old child when he starts acting like a "baby;" they regress when they're bored and need more stimulation from older peers. He must be doing okay; I can't seem to hear him through the wall.

Maybe the walls are thick.

Like John's nose sludge. He remains adorable despite the runny nose, just in case you were wondering. I can't say the same for myself or JD when we catch whatever John has, which is a given. Booger Bulbs all around, folks; what a great gift idea! Stick one in a loved one's stocking this Christmas. They'll love you for it, I'm sure.

Body by TV

Baby John is officially six months old! He's a robust little guy, and hauling him around is no easy feat for someone with chicken arms like mine. Over these six short/long months, I've tossed 90% of the maternity clothing out of my closet, and just managed to shimmy into a pair of non-maternity jeans. They are not my skinniest jeans, mind you, but I repeat, THEY ARE NOT MATERNITY JEANS. Man. No matter what your size, are jeans are loaded with angst for a broad, or what? They might be comfortable but they might make your can look really big. Or, they make your can look really small but they ride up your crack. Whatever. It's annoying.

Anyway, I digress. Having a baby does really wreak havoc on your body; I was surprised just how much. But then again, I'm surprised how much I was surprised. Hello, I made a person, he lived in me for the better part of a year, and that process is going to alter my physique. Now that I've come to terms with that, I've officially decided that I am physically-- and more important-- mentally ready to wean myself off of Spanx and get into shape. The issue? Time. Money. The Usual. Thus, my latest challenge and promise to myself:

• 1 exercise video every day via ExerciseTV on Demand for 1 month.

The videos are all somewhere between 7-30 minutes long, and they run the gamut: meditation to kick boxing and everything in between. Since I'm just starting out, and I don't really care what I'm doing as long as I'm doing something, I've decided to choose the exercises in the same way a professional, calculating fitness trainer would: Alphabetically. That should keep it interesting.

This morning, I completed "10 Minute Buns and Thighs." It was fine. One could argue that a title with "buns and thighs" in it could make someone hungry for lunch and/or sexy time rather than exercise, but I had a cup of coffee beforehand and craved neither.

10 Minute Buns and Thighs
Pros: It's only 10 minutes and there's a visible counter that runs in the corner beginning at 10 minutes
Cons: She busts a move right out of the gate, and I wasn't sure I was ready to move that fast that early, but I caught up. See Pros.

Surprise: Neither John Nor I Cried But Someone Else Did!

December 15, 1914. "New York Municipal Lodging House. Some of the babies." View full size. 5x7 glass negative, George Grantham Bain Collection. http://www.shorpy.com/

The last thing I did before we left the house yesterday morning was tuck a tissue in my purse just in case I started sobbing. Oh, and get the baby bottle out of the refrigerator (thankfully JD reminded me in the elevator that we'd need to bring a vessel to feed our child at his daycare center). Can you imagine? First-time parents bringing their baby to his first day of daycare with no food? Embarrassing. I'm sure it's happened before. I'm sure there's not a whole lot they haven't seen before.

Of course, John's first day would take place on one of the hottest, blazing days of the summer, making our walk downtown fun for all, as at 9:30 in the morning it was already close to 90 degrees. At JD's insistence, we stopped into a Banana Republic to break it up with a cool blast of AC in the name of "Just shopping for Fall clothes," which is how JD replied when asked if we needed any help. Yeah. Like we can afford clothes for ourselves let alone togs from Banana Republic. Please. Get a life.

John fell asleep in his stroller on the block of the daycare center, just as we were about to roll into the front door. Once you open the door you're sort of smacked in the face with a light scent of pee pee. Though the center is reputable, tidy, and clean--as clean as a place full of slimy, drooling, sticky children can be--it's tough to erase the smell of dozens of dirty diapers no matter where they're contained. Lord knows that at home, if we've got one too many "dipes" in the Genie you can't escape it. The good news is that once you're inside the joint for a few minutes, you don't smell it anymore. It's human nature's way of helping you cope, I suppose. Visit any nursing home, and you get the drift.

Anyhow, once we unhooked John from his stroller and he woke up, we met with the Director and the teachers, all of whom were very friendly and eager to meet John. He was in a smiley and curious mood as he joined a group of already assembled babies ranging in age from 4-11 months, the majority bouncing in their little colorful saucers as others were crawling around on the play mat amongst the toys and books. Almost all seven babes were grinning and content. Two immediately crawled up to John to make friends once he was settled in his saucer and playing with the doo-dads on the side of it. Since John was handling the transition so well, I didn't feel the need to weep, only beam with pride (mixed with a little trepidation). One baby (a newbie) however, was crying. And another newbie, a big 11 mos old fella just "rescued" from his crib by one of the teachers, was screaming bloody murder as he was being consoled. No luck: completely inconsolable. JD called him later-- affectionately, of course--the Resident Wimp (RW). And not so affectionately, other words which rhyme with "little witch" and "foo-see.

Unfortunately for RW (and everyone else in the baby room and within ear shot of the baby room), he'd been with Mom and Dad soley for his entire life before being flung into the "real world" and was clearly not handling the separation well, which is heartbreaking, for sure. Apparently RW had been wailing non-stop since his first day (the day before) causing one of the teachers, "Barbara," to jest that she almost resigned because of his inability to chill out. As I tried to have a conversation with the teachers, filling them in on John's routine and asking questions about their schedule for the children, I wonder how much Barbara was actually joking. I'm sure constant screaming is detrimental to everyone's demeanor, crying in babies can be contagious, afterall. Barbara also told me that it'd be easy for me to remember her name because she's not named after a flower like the other two teachers, but I think I'll remember it because she's the only one with a beard. B is for beard.

We picked up the baby from "skool" two hours later after killing some time at Dunkin Donuts just as the group's afternoon nap started, because it's suggested we "phase him in" instead of dumping him all day for his first day, which made complete sense and causes me wonder if RW had a proper phase-in. Barbara said John did well as she carried him out to us, but that he had a tough time sleeping because of RW's howling. This isn't surprising, as I have a difficult enough time getting the baby to nap at home in the relative peace and quiet of Midtown. Today John had a longer day and JD didn't collect him until after naptime ended. I don't have all the details yet, but a few words via text message have it that John had another banner time despite the fact there was "no improvement" in RW's disposition.

RW's got to get his act together. He's throwin' off everyone's mojo.

I Thought the Cocaine Was Gum

John and his Cow ~ Park Slope, Brooklyn ~ August 27, 2010

Tomorrow is a big day for this Mommy, because it's Baby John's first day of daycare! Or "skool" as I like to call it. Let's hope they teach him lots of important things, like his A-B-Cs, 1, 2, 3s, and the difference between cocaine and gum. It could be a very costly mistake for him down the line. (Pun intended). Kidding! We're not letting him anywhere near gum.

Anyhow, even though John's not going to be in skool for the entire day on his first day, I'm warning you and everyone right now: I'm going to cry. I think. If I don't cry, then okay, fine, but if I do cry, you can't say I didn't warn you. I don't think John will get upset; he likes new people and new experiences for the most part, and he seems to roll with the punches. JD says that he didn't cry when his Mom dropped him off on his first day of school; he cried when she picked him up! Similarly, I think John will embrace it and be completely fine without us for a few hours.

On the other hand, how well I'll be holding up is another story. Do they have daycare providers for mothers who can't handle being away from their babies? Yes, and they're called psychiatrists. OMG am I tearing up already? I need to get it together!

400 Years Later Some Things Never Change

"Infant in a baby chair, Netherlands, 17th century." nypl.org

" John in a Bumbo Seat, NYC~ 8/24/2010 ~ 21st century"

Tuna Salad Recipe of the Day

While Baby John munches on his bottles of formula and ventures into the lands of barley cereal, green beans, sweet potatoes and hard boiled egg yolks, his folks need something more substantial to eat. This tuna salad recipe is high in flavor, Mommy-friendly (ie: quick and easy), and relatively low budget/ calorie. Mega summery and tasty. Enjoy! Note: Must love radishes.

Tuna Salad With Celery and Radishes from Real Simple Magazine. Photo by Jens Mortensen.


Ingredients:

2 5-ounce cans tuna in water, drained
8 small radishes, cut into thin wedges
2 stalks celery, sliced
1/4 cup chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon olive oil
kosher salt and black pepper
crackers, for serving

Directions:

In a bowl, combine tuna, radishes, celery, parsley, lemon juice, olive oil, and kosher salt and black pepper. Refrigerate in a container for up to 1 day. Serve with crackers.

Nutritional Information
Per Serving
Calories 399
Fat 18g
Sat Fat 3g
Cholesterol 44mg

Where Have I Been?

MOMMYWOOD.

Green Bean Town. Mommywood, USA

John, NYC ~ August 23, 2010

Mad Men Recaps by Michelle Collins

It's Mad Men Season, which means that Sundays are less depressing for me because I've got the new episode to look forward to every week (that is, if I manage to keep my eyes open long enough to make it to 10 o'clock. New Anne, new hours, thanks to Baby John.) Then I can't wait to read Michelle Collins' recap of Mad Men. She's tall, gorgeous, and friendly and that doesn't happen very often. The only other tall, gorgeous and friendly broad I suspect could be Heidi Klum, but I don't know her. Anyhow, Michelle has a very funny brain and Heidi only has a very funny accent. Big fan of that Michelle, I am.

Now I've turned into Yoda (short, ugly, and friendly).

Without further ado about Yoda and such, if you're caught up on last week's episode, you may now please enjoy:

Finally, The Episode Where We Get to See Don Draper Naked by Michelle Collins for Vh1's Best Week Ever.

Hmmm

John, VT ~ August 14, 2010





http://www.cialis.com/

We're Back in the Adorable Picture Business Again

John, NYC ~ August 11, 2010

Sitting in his Bumbo Chair and gnawing on Sophie the Giraffe

For the Very First Time

Doodle and John, NYC ~ March 2010

Doodle came up to me and John on the sofa yesterday meowing for a little TLC, and John reached out to pet her. She wasn't alarmed, she just walked around in a few circles as she's prone to do, and his hand touched her back. As she moved, his hand smoothed over the length of her back and he ended up with a meathook full of fur. She could stand to be brushed, it's hot here these days. I think they'll be fast friends. Until, that is, he pulls her tail, which is bound to happen. I'll keep her nails clipped in the meantime.

By the way, it was Doodle's birthday on August 7, which after ten years I had actually forgotten until my mother reminded me. With the baby and all, there was no time for remembering, let alone a Birthday BLOWGANZA like we've had in years past. Coincidentally, when she sent the text, I had just left the pet store with a new catnip toy, some cat grass, and Doodle's favorite food. Though I was shopping to prepare Doodle for another weekend alone in the house, I must have known subconsciously.

Turning 11 means that she is 64 years old in "people years."

Happy Eleventh (64th) Birthday, Doodle! I love you!

When I'm 64

Songwriters: Mccartney, Paul;Lennon, John

When I get older, losing my hair, many years from now

Will you still be sending me a valentine, birthday greetings, bottle of wine?

If I'd been out 'til quarter to three, would you lock the door?

Will you still need me, will you still feed me when I'm sixty-four?

You'll be older too

Ah, and if you say the word, I could stay with you

I could be handy, mending a fuse when your lights have gone

You can knit a sweater by the fireside, Sunday mornings, go for a ride

Doing the garden, digging the weeds, who could ask for more?

Will you still need me, will you still feed me when I'm sixty-four?

Every summer we can rent a cottage

In the Isle of Wight if it's not too dear

We shall scrimp and save

Ah, grandchildren on your knee, Vera, Chuck and Dave

Send me a postcard, drop me a line stating point of view

Indicate precisely what you mean to say, yours sincerely wasting away

Give me your answer, fill in a form, mine forever more

Will you still need me, will you still feed me when I'm sixty-four?

*another coincidence: this is the song my mother sings to John

Baby Spoon: More Impressive Than the Sweet Potatoes

John, Long Island ~ August 8, 2010

-----

We tried giving John is first official taste of solid food over the weekend with a little sweet potato and Enfamil mash. In my opinion, it tasted metallic and terrible, but that's because of the formula, which tastes metallic and terrible, yet baby can't seem to get enough of the stuff. At least he enjoyed the spoon, which he promptly pushed into the back of his throat to choke himself. Learning is fun!

A Woman's Work is Never ___________

Hello!

Sorry I've been MIA of late, guess I've been busy being a mother, a working mother. I could say there's no glory in motherhood (they wouldn't even light up the Empire State Building for Mother Theresa for cryin' out loud!) but ask me again whenever John smiles or laughs at me, and I'll retract that statement.

My little sweetie pie is growing fast and doing all kinds of new things like laughing, drooling, grabbing faces, glasses, and necklaces and rolling over on his sides. And he's got two bottom teeth poking out. Pretty soon he'll molt from a mole person into a mobile person. That's going to be a hoot.

Speaking of hoots, Auntie Jenn made this sunburst bib for John. Doesn't it manage to look delightful despite the dollop of puke on the front?

PS Doodle's been good. She won't use her new litter box (but hasn't used the bed), hates her new food (my bad, this working mother tried to save time by ordering a similar thing online, negativo resultivos), she ran away (again), she caught another mouse (again), and she killed it in the bathroom. Again. So, Mouseville took another hit and things are status quo in Doodleville.

John, NYC ~ August 3, 2010