Finally!

After 17 years of friendship, Jen Randall and John Kim finally tied the knot this weekend. Jen has been practically a sister since freshman year in high school. Johnny and I have been friends since junior year. I love seeing two of my favorite people join together, and I've never seen Jen so happy. The ceremony was small and beautiful. My friend Bethany and I wiped our eyes on Sawyer's burp rag when Johnny knelt down and said his vows to Wyatt and Charlotte. I don't think there was a dry eye in the house. Johnny barely made it through his own vows to Jen. We had a lovely weekend watching Johnny's large Korean family bond with Jen's little Anglican one. Even better - we got to sample some excellent Korean BBQ at the rehearsal dinner!









The Kid and The Kid at Heart
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technical difficulties

If you happened to look at this blog in the last 24 hours and noticed the same post 12 times, well, let's just say I was about to pull my hair out. Blogger kept giving me an error message when I tried to publish. I was a bit surprised to realize that it had actually worked EVERY time. Anyway, problem resolved. RA

A Weekend affair (1)

We are up in DC this weekend for the wedding of my two good friends Jen Randall and Johnny Kim. We kicked off the weekend events with a small cocktail party at my parents' house for the couple and their families. With all the events, I have plenty of opportunity to dress little Sawyer up in his best duds. Last night he wore a hat and sweater knitted by his grandmother, Dale.

Speaking of duds, I had the chance to put little man on a scale yesterday, and he's not such a "little" man anymore (as you can see from the milk belly hanging over his pants in this picture). He weighs 15 pounds!!! Warning to anyone who may ever want to buy him clothes, he is about to outgrow the 3-6 month clothing size (depending on the brand it goes to 16.5 pounds) even though he just turned three months. He also has very long legs so some of his pants look like knickers. I am very upset because I have all these cute outfits that he hasn't even worn yet. Hell, I JUST unpacked the 3-6 month box a few weeks ago. How did this happen? He's still in the 80th percentile - so he's not the biggest baby on the block, but the average 3 month old weighs about 13 pounds.

Here is a cute photo of my godchildren Wyatt and Charlotte. It's their mom, Jen, who's getting married this weekend and they are so excited they can hardly stand it.

Get Out! (2)

Fall is here - time for beautiful crisp walks. This morning the thermometer read 37 deg at 10 am. We waited for things to warm up a bit.



















Scott took this lovely picture of a great blue heron wading in the salt marshes in our back yard.

WSP: 3 months

He looks so much like his dad, if I hadn't given birth to him I would wonder whether he were actually mine. But, maybe I see a little bit of myself in the eyes here.

Doesn't he look like Justin in this one?

And he's got his dad's crooked smile.

Yup, new design

Just in case you thought you somehow ended up on the wrong website, I got bored and decided to give my blog a fresh look.

3 months

Dear Sawyer,
You turned three months today - which seems like so much and so little at the same time. My world has changed since you arrived. Every day, I have the joy of looking at it through your fresh eyes.

I love:
• listening to you squeal at the mobile in the morning when I'm still too tired to wake up but too fascinated by you to sleep;
• the way you suck your thumb with your whole hand spread across your face;
• that you stick your bottom lip out when you are about to cry (how did you learn that?);
• waking up to find that you've rotated 180 degrees in your bed, somehow;
• the way you throw your head back when you're excited,
and how you rub your forehead against me when you're sleepy;
• that you sneeze in the sun;
• how doesn't phase you one bit when both dogs lick your face at the same time;
• watching you sleep in your father's arms;
• our little conversations;
• and, that every day holds a new discovery.

Things you can do:
Push up 90 degrees on your stomach
Roll over stomach to back
Roll over onto side from back
Stand supported
Sit up holding on with just one hand
Hold head steady
Clasp hand together
Laugh out loud
Talk back

everybody loves a parade?

Today I took Sawyer to his first parade. I had to cover the event for the paper and Scott was working on the house so it was just me and my sidekick.


There was a big crowd but we found a good spot ... right in front of the fire sirens, which sounded off when the parade began. I dove to the ground, arms outstretched to cover Sawyer's ears. He scowled at me but didn't cry. Narrow catch.


What parade? Seriously, Mom, have you checked out these shoes? They have eyes, which are looking at me.


I finally take Sawyer out of his seat hoping he will notice the fire trucks driving by. I let the nice strangers standing next to me hold Sawyer while I take pictures. (See how good of a Mom I am?)


One huge semi truck decides to blow its horn right in front of us. Sawyer loses it - melts into tears. And the nice strangers promptly hand him back to me.

And that was the end of Sawyer's first parade.

Weighing in on the whole costume debate

The pressure is on. People keep asking me what Sawyer is going to be for Halloween. Thing is, I haven't decided how I feel about dressing a three-month old in a Halloween costume. First of all, we have nowhere to go. We'll be out of town for the big costume parade in Reedville on Saturday and Halloween itself is on Tuesday - deadline night at the paper. Trick-or-treating is out of the question unless somebody is handing out breastmilkcicles. Nobody will be walking down our long dark drive to knock on our door Halloween night. Dressing Sawyer up just to sit around the house and take photos seems absurd. And, yet, I fear that I would be depriving him of some God-given right if I boycotted the costume thing. Will he, twenty years in the future, demand to see his first Halloween photos and then blame us for failing as parents because we didn't dress him up? If it's any indication, I have received no less than three hand-me-down costumes from friends. Apparently, everyone else I know dressed their babies up for Halloween. So, should I fold? Perhaps I should insist that Scott dress him up and take him to the costume constest in Irvington. What do you think his chances are against the other 0-2 year olds? More importantly, what are my chances of talking Scott into it? Hmmm..... Stay tuned.

Cool Shoes

Thanks SarahGirl! These shoes have been the talk of the town.

Best Buds

Baby Tayloe - awake - Sawyer - passed out:

Okay, they've never actually spoken and I'm not even sure they've maintained eye contact, but these two boys are destined to a future of pond fishing and skeet shooting together. Born only two days apart they are about as close in age as it gets. It doesn't hurt that I think his parents are the cat's meow. Catherine and I became friends when she was the reporter/photograher at another local paper. She and her husband have moved on to bigger/better things and now live in LA where they rub elbows with the rich and famous - but they still come home to see family and that's how we got to see them this weekend. We had a lunch date on Friday and attended little John Tayloe Emery's baptism on Sunday. The boys hung out in their separate containers while us moms caught up on LA gossip and bedtime schedules. We'll get another chance for the boys to hang out when we head to the west coast after Thanskgiving.

Don't forget the YANG

Scott complained this weekend that the blog is all about me and Sawyer. Okay, well, Sawyer is clearly the star, and I am the author, but I suppose that I should mention, once and a while, that he has a dad. (Please note that the poor dogs are also feeling neglected and ignored but they have yet to complain about their lack of mention on the blog.)

Sawyer's dad - Scott - is very busy with work and we hardly seem him awake these days. Happily, however, it rained all weekend and we got lots of quality time with him. The rain did not, however, deter Scott from slipping out of the house before dawn on Saturday to go duck hunting with his buddy Brian. He came home (empty handed) just as we were getting up. Not being a hunter myself, I have yet to truly understand the sport's appeal. Scott only began waterfowl hunting last winter, but hasn't shot anything yet. I think commando-crawling through the cold, murky marshes before dawn must have some appeal of its own. I am in full support, however, of any sport that makes my honey happy and provides him some relief from endless days of stress.

I am also very supportive of Scott's cooking hobby, but enough about him and more about me...

Since I also could not work Saturday due to the rain (which cancelled all events), I set about reorganizing my closet and Sawyer's closet. I was desperately hoping Sawyer would make it to the 3-month mark with his current wardrobe, but on Friday night I put him into a pair of footed pajamas that were so small on him the boat neck pulled down to his nipples when he tried to straighten his legs. So, I boxed up all the 0-3 month clothes and busted out the 3-6 months. It was almost like shopping!

I took the opportunity to do the same thing with my own clothes. I am now falling out of all maternity clothes and in-between clothes, so I was really looking forward to slipping into my favorite pre-pregnancy clothes. Um, apparently not. I tried on about 17 pairs of pants that don't fit (and I couldn't bring myself to try on the shirts, which I'm sure don't fit due to added cleavage). While my current weight is only a few pounds shy of my pre-pregnancy weight, my entire body has shape shifted and the buttons on all my pants are about an inch away from closing. Going through Sawyer's clothes was a lot more fun.

Back to Scott. While I swam through a mountain of clothes (and suffered massive allergy attacks as I always do when cleaning or organizing anything) Scott made us lunch, cooked an excellent gourmet dinner with mere scraps from the cupboard (and you think I'm joking?), went grocery shopping, cooked a yummy breakfast this morning, a delicious pasta dinner AND (now this is the clincher) did ALL the dishes from ALL meals.

So, in case I don't say it enough, and I know I don't, Sawyer's dad is the bomb-diggity. And, Sawyer is so lucky because one day, when he's bigger, his dad is going to teach him how to do all these cool things - like crawling through marshes on the coldest, wettest, darkest days of the year and cooking gourmet meals from the scraps in the cupboard.

Who?

People keep asking me lately what I am going to have Sawyer call me.
Uhhh - "Mom?"
I wasn't really aware that there are options.
Do I get to choose?
I mean, I'm not from England, so "mum" doesn't seem appropriate, and I don't live in the 19th century, so "mam" is too formal. I'm not Laura Ingles Wilder, so "ma" sounds a bit too wagon train for me. I think it takes a large black woman to pull off a name like "mammie." And, I'm definitely not Hollywood enough for the first-name basis thing.
A quick internet search revealed the options: mom, mommy, mama, mamma, mammy, momma, mum, mummy, mam, mater...
Mater? Too much like Tomater.
The more I think about it, the more I realize that the people who have been asking me about my "mother" name are all in their early 20s. They all, apparently, turn their noses up at "mommy."
Even Justin has scoffed at the traditional "Daddy" and calls Scott Da-da.
It appears that Generation Y is aiming for some new lingo. How long have we been using "mommy" for anyway? Is it just us Gen Xers who made that nickname commonplace? What did the Boomers use: "Mother?" or "Mama?" (Note: I am at the tail end of my generation. I am sadly reminded of this when I realize what a different world kids 10 years younger than me grew up in.)
Anyway, my parents have decided to let their grandparent nicknames develop naturally. And we haven't even discussed what names Scott's parents want to use, although I assume we'll just follow suit with whatever Jace calls them.
I am not sure how I am supposed to refer to them in the meantime. "Who's that? Is that Grandma?" I'm sorry, but can you see Anne being "Grandma?" It's all wrong. She's also not a Big Mama or a Moo Moo, a Mimi or a Little Annie. Nana has already been used (her mom) and holds far too strong of an association.
As for my dad - I really like the name "Pop." Of course Poppa John sounds like pizza joint. My favorite grandfather name of all time is "Hi Daddy," which came from just that, a little boy's mother seeing her dad and saying "Hi Daddy."
But, there are cases where letting the kid choose the name backfires. Like the grandmother who quieted her infant granddaughter by saying in a high voice "Whoo-Whooo." She is now known as "Who-Who," which is the word that some people I know use to refer to a woman's privates.
So, as for what I will be called, "mom" or "mommy" is just fine with me.

My son the Bushman

Do you remember the movie "The Gods Must Be Crazy?"
Sawyer has learned this week how to make that same clucking sound with his tongue that Bushmen use in their language. He flicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and it makes a "tock." He clearly discovered his ability to do this by accident, but now he's so fascinated with his new-found skill that he will just lay there 'tock'-ing to himself. This morning my neighbor Jayne and I went on a walk and I told her about his new thing and she started clicking her tongue at him. Then Sawyer clicked back. Then I couldn't resist so I started clicking my tongue. And we all three stood there at the top of the driveway 'tock'-ing and smiling at each other for almost ten minutes.

I would also like to note that Sawyer finally repeated his roll today (one full week later). I have to admit (lest you think he's some genius) that I give him a head start on the shoulders. I lay him on his stomach but tuck one arm beneath his chest so that he can get past the hump. He's figured out what to do with the rest of his body. I should also note that he's not exactly happy about the whole maneuver yet.

Tummy time in general is a bit of a struggle for us. He will tolerate it awake for precisely two minutes. I think the major problem is that he drools considerably when placed on his stomach. And while he can lift his head quite well for a short period of time (about two minutes), when he goes to put it back down it lands in a slimy puddle of saliva, forcing him to pick it right back up. A struggle against gravity ensues. It's like a game of hot lava. He thinks: "Oh, no, I'm losing control. I can't do this anymore. But if I let go, my entire face is going into that disgusting wet and cold pool of sticky spit up. Oh God, just let me keep my head up one more minute. Mom! Help! My I can't hold my head up anymore! HEEEELLLLLLLLP!!!!!!!!!" Splash.

So I've been wondering what this overstuffed bean pillow that came with my jungle gym is for. It's far too big to be comfortable for him to prop up his head when he's on his back. Voila! It's perfect to help him keep his head up during tummy time. (Probably its intended purpose. I'm a bit slow with these things). Today he had a stare-off with the octopus. It was touch-and-go for about two minutes. Then, the octopus won.

WSP: 10 Weeks

Just chillin' outside on a "Top Ten" afternoon.