baby book club

I started reading to Sawyer long before he could really see the pages. But he caught onto the concept quickly, and even when he was only a few months old he was grabbing the edges of whatever book we were reading, wanting to hold it.

Now his favorite books are the interactive type: That's Not My Bear; That's Not My Dragon; Peekaboo Blue; where he can run his hands across the pages and achieve complete sensory overload. He gets so excited sometimes he starts hyperventilating and loses all muscle control, turning into jerky, book-nerd baby (uhn, uhn, snarf).

(Note: Yes, I am horrified that Sawyer loves a Blues Clues book - we don't even have TV and I was hoping to avoid the whole Nick Kids thing for a few years; but it was a gift and he knows where all the friends are hiding).

BTW: Pat the Bunny - not so kid friendly. It's very fragile and so appealing that Sawyer wants to eat it. We have to look at that book with an arm's distance.

Once we've done a few of the touch-and-feel books, and I've had about all I can handle, we turn to my favorites: The Snowy Day; Each Peach, Pear, Plum; and Guess How Much I Love You.

That last one just slays me. I should be rid of all those pregnancy hormones by now, but I can't read that final line without getting weepy. I made Scott read it to Sawyer the other day and he had to get up and leave the room afterwards.

Parenthood has turned us to mush.

Do you have a favorite baby book? What book does your baby want to hear again and again?

WSP: Six Months

I’ve always argued that half-birthdays are under-celebrated events. To prove my point, I once told a co-instructor who was leading a backpacking trip with me through the Frying Pan Wilderness Area in the Colorado Rockies that I would be celebrating my birthday while we were out in the backcountry. I was, however, alarmed and confused when – on the morning of October 10 – I awoke at 5 a.m. to a singing sea of headlamps swimming towards my tarp. I made out the sound of 10 teenage voices singing ‘Happy Birthday,’ but it took a minute for it to dawn on me what was happening. Those poor students had rallied before dawn to bake me a Bunsen-burner chocolate cake and a fat pot of coffee . . . my two favorite things on a camping trip . . . because they thought it was my REAL birthday. They had even made me a sculpture out of sticks and rocks and they all crawled under my tarp and sat around while I sliced up the goods to share. “How old are you?” somebody ventured to ask. I smiled like the Cheshire Cat: Twenty-four . . . and a half! The groan could be heard down the valley. I felt guilty, but only for a second. Then I ate that yummy, slightly burnt, chocolate cake. To this day, I receive a happy birthday email from my former boss on October 10.

So, on Sawyer’s half-birthday, I had hoped for a jovial little celebration. Instead I spent the day packing up the old house and Scott spent the day installing cabinets at the new house and Sawyer was left to entertain himself for most of the day on the floor. I did, however, stop to take a few video clips of him for posterity’s sake. In the first video, he laughs and sits up (both noteworthy milestones). It’s a little long and uneventful, but the point is that he can sit up now for extended periods of time, which I think is impressive at his age. Also notice how he responds to his name – another important milestone.

The second video clip came by way of a half-birthday present from God. It’s Sawyer’s first snow. The whole family took a break to celebrate. Sawyer seemed to wonder: What’s the big deal? Mom was just a goofy happy fool.

Vaporized!

Mad Scott 4
Originally uploaded by write2reid.

Poor Sawyer has been struggling to breathe through his schnoz for five days now and has been coughing up a healthy amount of phlegm (we are keeping a close eye on that). Doc ixnayed cough syrup and decongestants, so we are spraying gallons of saline water up his nose and then suctioning it right back out. I’m not quite sure what the point is, but it comes highly recommended. The suctioning is my job because Scott doesn’t want little dude to harbor any bad feelings against him. I, after all, have the coveted boobs, so it’s hard for any man in my family to hold a grudge against me for long.
For his part, Scott is carrying out the other half of Doc’s instructions.
It is his job to keep the baby adequately vaporized at all times. This job makes him happy because, well, he is a man and there is a machine involved. He is also a chef gourmet, and so he has concocted his own recipe to keep warm eucalyptus-scented steam pouring out of our $14 vaporizer all night long. Walking into Sawyer’s room in the middle of the night is like stepping into an Australian rainforest (if there ever was such a thing).
Scott discovered that Salt is the key to creating steam. No idea why. But, add too much salt and the entire vaporizer shakes and gurgles like a volcano about to erupt. The water supply drains too quickly. Too little salt means no eucalyptus rainforest action. The right proportions of VaporSteam solution is also important unless you want the rooms down the hall smelling like camphor.

Scott’s Vaporizing Potion:
Dilute two generous pinches of kosher salt into a small amount of hot water in the bottom of a pitcher. (This, he notes, beats stirring a full pitcher of water.) It is very important not to exceed one teaspoon of table salt, he said.
Add two glugs of VaporSteam, Do not exceed one tablespoon unless you want to vaporize the neighbors as well.
Top off pitcher with warm water and fill vapor machine. Please note that it is easier to use a pitcher to refill the machine than to carry a bucket of sloshing water across the house.
One more important point: If the paint starts to peel off the ceiling above the vaporizer, you may be creating TOO MUCH steam.


How to suck out your baby's snot but not his brains:
Place right foot on baby’s right arm. Pin down and hold.
Repeat action with left foot and left arm.
Position rest of body out of kicking range.
Use one hand to lock head in forward-facing position.
Maneuvering carefully to avoid poking out eyes or giving lobotomy, proceed to suction nostril.
Eject withdrawn snot onto tissue with satisfaction.
Repeat with each nostril until the slurping sound fades.
Immediately attach screaming baby to boob.

Another great blog

I have to turn you onto this amazing blog called RatSoap written by a 10-year-old girl who lives down the street from me. Her mom was in book club with me until two months ago when she and her husband packed up the two girls (ages 10 and 6) and headed to South America for a year abroad. They are going to be living in Chile where Alex, the dad, was born. The girl's website starts out as an attempt to translate Anna Karenina into a cartoon for kids:

I was reading Harry Potter #2 for the sixth time when my Dad asked, "Aren't you tired of reading that thing? Why don't you read something more...MONUMENTAL?" He suggested Anna Karenina, by someone called Leo Tolstoy.
I'd never heard of Tolstoy.
So Dad gave me a copy of Karenina, and it didn't do much for me. Tolstoy's no Beverly Cleary.
Then I thought: Maybe it's not Tolstoy's fault, and all "Anna Karenina" needs is a simple translation to make it more interesting to the children of the Age of Potter.

But two entries into her project she realizes that her dad was serious when he said they were moving to Chile.

Although Dad informed us a few months ago that we might be moving, the reality of it didn't hit until today---when he started "organizing" (a.k.a. throwing away) our precious first-grade and kindergarten notebooks.
"Can't take them with us," he said. Too many. Too bulky. We have turned into pack rats, and someone needs to get rid of the junk.
It's because we're not just moving down the block. We are leaving the COUNTRY!

The site evolves into a blog of her travels, and I am telling you this girl is really funny. Her grasp of sarcasim and irony is well beyond her years. There are great anticdotes as they travel by boat around Cape Horn.

RJE lost one of her top teeth. She put it under the pillow expecting the Tooth Fairy to come with money and chocolate. The next morning, she found an Argentine peso and a tiny bar of chocolate. Dad said that it was not the Tooth Fairy but the Tooth Penguin, because the tooth fairy doesn’t come this far south. Unfortunately for RJE, the Tooth Penguin turned out to be very stingy: An Argentine peso is only 33 U.S. cents.

Anyway - I highly recommend you start with the introduction and then read "The Beginning" working your way forward from there. Get back to me when you've had a chance to check it out and let me know what you think. I'm seriously thinking about writing an article about this for the local paper.

Gotta love those free samples

This photo is all about the t-shirt, which Sawyer is sadly outgrowing. I just discovered it buried in the closet. It was 76 degrees at our house on Sunday. Can you believe its January? So I needed something summery and I found this shirt that was still too big last summer and now it's almost too small. I think I'll keep it and put it on the teddy bear or something.

So we started Sawyer on formula today. It wasn't one of those big, life-altering decisions. I went looking for the milk I pumped on Friday in the freezer this morning there was NOTHING. Shelves were bare. (I actually patted them down in desperation.) You have to understand that beyond the humiliation and pain of being a human cow for 40 minutes every day at work - I've been told that from the other side of the bathroom door it sounds like I'm using a vibrator . . . nothing like hearing people standing outside the bathroom door, giggling – each drop of milk is literally worth its weight in gold. I racked my brain. I looked at the nondescript breast pump case and an awful wave of realization swept over me. I never unloaded Friday's milk. There it sat, three bottles worth, perfectly rotting. With no other alternative, and without another thought, I reached into the depths of the cupboard and pulled out one of those freeby samples they send you in the mail, which I had saved in case of emergency. I grabbed the soy version and wished the baby sitter best of luck. Some of life's biggest decisions are made for you. What amazes me is that Scott actually seems more attached to the breast feeding than me at this point. I'm not really sure why (It's free? He doesn't have to get up to feed a sick baby in the middle of the night?) In fact, he was pretty skeptical about breast feeding at first. But, now he seems to truly believe its the best thing for Sawyer. I, on the other hand, am very excited about introducing some alternate sources of nourishment. I just didn't plan to be quite so unplanned about it.

The Big Bad Wolf

Our other baby, Duncan, isn't the brightest bulb in the box, but he sure is devoted. He may look like he's ready to snatch a picnic basket away from a little girl in this picture, but he's actually just a big pussy cat (read scared of his own bark). He and Tucker were wary of Sawyer at first, but their devotion to him is clearly growing. They stand between the stroller and strangers when we go for walks, and they let out a low growl when a friendly dog wanders too close to the baby. Last night, I found them both vying for a spot next to the crib in Sawyer's room. I wasn't sure if they were just upset that he was crying or if they realized that the vaporizor was running and decided it was the best spot in the house. Sawyer, for his part, has discovered the dogs and loves having his ears licked. He reaches out for his canine family now and touches them gently on the nose to say hello.

Sneak Peek

Two weeks to moving day - That's right. We are officially outta here January 31, so we're planning the big move for two weekends from now. There is still a lot of work to be done - but here are some "Before" shots:

Overwhelmed

I remember well the feeling of being overwhelmed at my showers. Everybody focusing their attention on you and plying you with gifts. It's kinda uncomfortable. My friend Sarah Q was so overwhlemed, she tore through a mountain of gifts with shocking frenzy, tossing paper over her back as she went and not coming up for air until she was done. Over the weekend, mom and I threw a shower for Jen Randall-Kim who is expecting a girl in a few weeks. She's already leaked the name - Eloise - although I'm not positive on the spelling. She got so many tiny cute girly clothes . . . but being a veteran mom, she knows to take it all with a grain of salt. (Can't you just see the grain of salt between her teeth in this last picture.) The outfits are cute, but clothes mean laundry!

Snap-to!

This may seem like the most inane thing to write about, but it seriously troubles me every day. Snaps. On baby clothes. I can never seem to line them up right the first time I try. Footed sleepers are the worst, but I even struggle with the three snaps at the bottom of onsies. I get to the end and there I find it - that extra snap laughing at me. And then the wiggly baby who has had just about enough of getting dressed loses patience and starts squirming and rolling and fussing and there I am, arms twisted like Gumby, still snapping. How hard can it be? Start on one end and work your way systematically through the snaps until you get to the end, right? I tell myself this every time before I start to snap up a set of footed pajamas. It's the crossroads that get me - that spot between the legs where all snaps meet. I somehow miss one along the way, or snap the wrong to parts together so that when I'm done Sawyer is wrinkled up like a shar-pei. Sawyer owns several outfits that have actually brought me to tears - snaps both front and back. I wonder, often, what my snap-challengedness means. Am I impatient? Not detail-oriented? Creative to a fault? Yes, I am all of these things. But, even when I try to approach the snaps systematically, I flub it all up. I remember being tested in middle school for learning disabilities and was told that when presented with a problem - such as a puzzle or math equation, I will attempt to solve it in the same way, over and over, rather than taking a new approach when the first one fails. Knowing this, I have purposefully tried new approaches to the snap issue: top-down, bottom-up, crossroads-out. But the rouge snap always appears just as Sawyer flashes a wicked little smile and starts squirming away. And this all has me asking why do baby pajamas need so many snaps anyway? A well-placed snap here and there would hold the whole thing together just fine. I am hopeless - a lost cause. The baby-clothing industry, however, maybe I can tackle that!

Blog on

Hats off to brother Ross and Niki who have taken blogging to a whole new level, creating a site dedicated primarily to their two Chessies: Raleigh and Taylor. The blog is aptly named "Tails of the City," although I think it would have been funnier to call it "Two Tails of the City" . . . get it? huh, huh? Tale of Two Cities. Ya, anyway, nobody asked me. Check it out. Link is on the left.

Meanwhile, I have made a New Year Proposition (thanks Catherine for the excellent new terminology) to keep up this blog and to expand my subject matter beyond the documentation of Sawyer's every fart and drool. This is easier said than done because the pea-sized space I have remaining in my brain when I get done with work/house/eating/sleeping/bills is occupied completely with thoughts of Sawyer. But, I will try.

Life Rolls On

I can't get over the progress since the first time Sawyer rolled over back-to-stomach a few weeks ago until now. It's as though somebody has given him the keys to the car. I am definitely not ready for this. We were helping my parents pack up Xmas decor on this day-after-epiphany and I left Sawyer for a few minutes on the floor. I came back to find that he had commando-rolled across the room, picked up a full trash bag of dry magnolia leaves and placed it on top of his head. Yikes! The babbling is coming a long way. Dada Mama Baba Papa

Mmm mmm good

Sawyer can't decide what tastes better, his toes or rice cereal.

Just another day

I've been trying to catch a candid pic of Justin playing with Sawyer - its the cutest thing you've seen - the bros at play. But one of them always sees me sneaking up with the camera and the moment is lost. Justin is here until Friday. Meanwhile, here's a few new ones of WSP. My how he's changed!



Can you see the slightly lazy left eye here?


mmmmm - good.