Leo’s genetic heritage, looks dept.

So this here is baby Leo:


And this here is one of his parents, call him or her Parent 1:

Parent 1

And, of course, Parent 2:

parent 2

So who does Leo look more like? I was going to try and hook up a poll here, but it would have taken more than 5 minutes, so vote in comments! This is our special way of seeing who reads the blog other than people trying to point us to free teen porn and cheap drugs!

All about the mommy

I’m suffering from the blogger’s dilemma. I haven’t written for two weeks so do I start from today or do I try to back up and tell it all? Do I pick important pieces? I think today’s post will be all about the mommy, just like Caleb had his All about the Daddy post. What are the woes of an overworking mommy?

Well recently for me it’s been too much work. (At least I’m famous)

All about the mommy says that mother’s day is awesome. Last year when I was pregnant I tried to get Caleb to buy me a present but he wouldn’t have it. This year I told him all I wanted for mother’s day was some cake. Mmm … cake. Caleb likes to take my requests and try to interpret the spirit of them, rather than do exactly as I ask.

Auntie Lisa, Caleb’s sister called to wish me happy mother’s day, and she predicted “fat chance that you are getting your cake. Guys always do something other than you ask for.” I had a feeling that my Mother’s Day might be like the Valentines Day where I asked for flowers all week long and then got chocolate and perfume and Simpson’s Monopoly instead.

But Mother’s Day was awesome. It’d been a rough week for both of us. So we went for cappuccino in the morning and then to play in the park. Leo played with sand for the first time and roamed on the grass. Lots of people called to wish me a Happy Mother’s Day and all in all I felt special. Because Caleb’s week was hard too, I babysat while he went to a zombie movie. As you probably guessed, Caleb came home from the movie with some delicious chocolate deserts that were, in fact, not cake. He had some very compelling reasons for why this was a better present than cake, but I think he was overrun with guilt so later that night he went out to the store and bought me some HoHos, which for some reason he believes are, in fact, chocolate cake.

Even though I have been working too much, Leo still remembers me. Yesterday I came home at the usual time and Leo barreled across the floor to see me. It was so exciting. He was on the other side of the room when I opened the door. And he just started crawling towards me like crazy. He climbed right over Caleb’s legs straight to me. Caleb says, “baby must be hungry” but nonetheless, I felt very loved.

Today I came home early to see my baby and when I got here, there was no baby. When Caleb and Leo got back from their walk Caleb mentioned that this was the first time since going back to work that I’d come home early and so it wasn’t reasonable for me to expect that he’d be here or have his phone just in case I came home. Fair enough.

One other thing about the mommy is that she takes all the snapshots. So my mother’s day album only has picture of the daddy and the baby, no mommy.

Leo – First Blood

I really wanted to write about Leo’s first cut and bloody finger. I may have had nothing to say that embellishes on Caleb’s story but I really wanted a blog post with this title.

In other news, yesterday was a sad evening in working mommy land. I came home late and had to put a cranky Leo right to bed. We didn’t get any time to play together. Then after he cried himself to sleep, he woke up around 10:00 to cry some more. Since our new policy is let him cry it out, it was a sad night because all of my interaction with the baby was listening to him cry from the other room.

And it was a bit on an adventurous daytime in working mommy land. My boss invited me to a benefit luncheon that turned out to be a fashion show. I am so utterly oblivious that I didn’t realize it was a fashion show until I was at my lunch table sitting next to a runway in my own unfashionable attire. Actually I felt quite pleased that I had bought the skirt I was wearing at Saks 5th Avenue, but that was about 6 years ago so I don’t think it could count as stylish. Usually I have lunch with the baby and so I really needed to pump at lunchtime. I brought the pump to the event but then had to wander around the Westin looking for a private room with a lock on the door which I naively thought might be easy. Don’t most places have single stall handicap bathrooms with a lock on the door? Anyway the Westin didn’t and I had to ask the concierge who seemed to be a bit hard of hearing or perhaps I was whispering too much. But how does one ask this comfortably. “Uh … excuse me, do you have a bathroom with a plug?” “What?” says the confused concierge. “Uh .. I have this breastpump …” Looking even more confused she asks “you need to do your hair?” (Not that I wasn’t already feeling insecure about being under dressed). Finally I was able to communicate my needs to which the concierge responded, “are you a guest here?”. I had to say “no”. But then she was nice enough to lead me down many hallways. “Where are we going?”, I asked. “To the place”. The place turned out be the fitness room for the hotel which had a little massage room in it. So I got to pump my breasts to newage music in the bowels of the San Francisco Westin.

Lunch turned out to be a blast. Marichu Alvarez, the “lobby host” gave me her card and told me to call her if I needed more help. So if by chance Marichu ever reads this: THANK YOU!

More updates from the land of Leo

Leo has had a couple of milestones recently. First, he got his first bloody wound:


The story on that is that he was crawling all around the kitchen and the pantry, grabbing onto stuff and trying to pull himself up, and everything seemed fine. Then he crawled into the kitchen where we were and started crying, but it was a funny little cry, not really a “hungry” cry or a “pick me up” cry or a “sleepy” cry. He just sounded a little confused. So I picked him up, which usually stops the crying, but he continued crying his weird little cry, not loud or even especially demanding. After rocking him a little, and singing my little “Shut up Leo” song, he just kept bleating, and I finally noticed what I should have noticed when I picked him up, that his left hand was completely covered in blood! Boy, was that a shocker, let me tell you! At first I thought it was a little piece of glass, but when I felt around in all that blood I didn’t feel one. We washed his hand off in the sink, and it looked more like a scrape, so I think there must have been something sharp on the dryer, or the stove, or the washing machine, or whatever else he was trying to climb. Anyway, we washed him up, put a couple of little tiny bandages on his index finger and his thumb, and he was fine. He is one tuff baby!

Also, Leo likes pears:


We have been introducing Leo into the world of food lately as you saw with Johanna’s prunes, but he hasn’t really liked anything so far. I have been thinking maybe it is because he is not that hungry when we have been feeding him, or maybe since mommy is usually around when we try to feed him his concept of food might be more like a big round thing with a brown tip than a bunch of nasty purple stuff. So I thought I would let him get a little hungry this afternoon and feed him without the mommy, and he appeared to love it. I don’t know if pears taste better than prunes, or if he was just hungry, but he ate a ton of pear slop! As you can see he likes to really lick the spoon clean.

And this is just a video that I think is cute:

So many updates

Bedtime update

We are no longer on the “Ferber” method. I use quotes, because given the amount of research we’ve done we barely know what that method is. But the new plan is cry it out without coming in the bedroom. Tonight he fell asleep on the breast so we didn’t have to put ourselves to the test. Basically, this is what we hope for every night.

We’ve made Leo cry so much in the past few days. First we tried all the bedtime crap. Then today we helped Dan and Becca move and we left Leo asleep for his in a separate room and when he woke up, we weren’t there. And he cried and we didn’t even hear him. By the time I made it in he had tears streaming down his face. It was so sad.

Spelling update

Not only am I terrible at spelling but I’m terribly inconsistent. If you pay attention to such things, which I hope you don’t, you’ll notice that I’ve spelled “bedtime” three different ways in the past two blog posts. I think b-e-d-t-i-m-e, one word, no hyphens, is my favorite. I hope to stick to it.

Likeness update

Leo looks more and more like me everyday. See a spittin’ image:

Well maybe you can’t see. Because no one else sees this. Today we met a friend of Dan and Becca’s during their move. She saw Caleb holding Leo and said “looks just like his father”. Why do people keep saying this? I had to jump in, “No he doesn’t. Look again. Don’t you think he looks like me?” At which point she conceded that he looked like both of us.

I just showed Caleb the picture above to try to prove my point. He had me pose on the ground on all fours to compare. Me on all fours, the computer next to me with the picture on display. “Little different” he says. Whatever.

Eating update

We’ve “started solids”. Leo’s solid for today was prunes, a fruit not often associated with the word “solid”. To digress for a second, I wonder why the baby food was called “prunes”. You see all baby food for stage 1 solid eating comes all smooshed up in a wet form. So what I don’t understand is do they dry the plums to make them into prunes and then re-hydrate them to make them into baby food or do just smoosh up the plums but call them prunes? This idea is quite strange because for adults those marketers have started calling prunes dried plums. So perhaps for babies, they call plums prunes to highlight their medicinal aspect, but for adults then call prunes plums to hide it.

Leo likes to razz the food, spit the food on me, and grab at the container of food with his clean little hands. It makes the thought feeding him something I don’t look forward to and hence don’t do everyday, because that’s just the kind of mom I am. But we fed him prunes yesterday and today. Tomorrow perhaps he can get something cleaner like applesauce.

I’m also not the kind of mom to crush up real food in a little food chopper. Many modern parents do this. I’m not sure why. It may be cheaper. It may be healthier. At least for families that have cleaner kitchens than we do it might be healthier. And when I say modern parents, if I think for a second, this seems like the kind of thing my own mom probably did. But alas, I am more wasteful than my mom. I also don’t wash plastic sandwich bags after I use them. I just throw them away.

Flakiness update

Worst than lost breast milk, on Friday I got to work and promptly locked my keys and computer and cell phone in the truck. Caleb just turned off our home phone for some very good reason that I can’t keep track of and of course I didn’t know his cell phone number. So my morning was spent calling the people whose cell phone numbers I did know to ask what my husband’s phone number was. It was donut day at work so I was able to bring Caleb an apple fritter for saving me, but not without eating half of it first.

Nostalgia update

Just before writing this post I took all the 6 month clothes that don’t fit out of Leo’s dresser. 9 months only. I’ve done this clean out once before. It makes me so nostalgic. He can’t wear that cute fuzzy that he wore on Christmas again. Nor can he where that orange rhino suit that he is wearing in his gardener blog post. I barely recognize the baby in the photo album I made a as Christmas present for Caleb of Leo’s first eight weeks. Who is that little Halloween baby?

Poop update

No poops since Monday.

Bed Time

This week we’ve decided to institute bed-time. Everyone talks about making the baby sleep through the night and this is one of those things in life that I’d always assumed would be a problem for everybody except me. Last week the pediatrician told us that it was time for the baby to sleep through the night. We should just give him a bedtime and he would sleep from 8PM to morning. Sounded great. Worked on the first night. So then, of course, my hopes were up. The next night wasn’t so magical.

Caleb started suggesting that we let Leo cry himself to sleep and I thought that was a stupid idea. Caleb’s argument was “but the pediatrician said. Your ideas are just based on feelings”. So I did some internet searching which can be summed up by these two articles official and unofficial. (I’m very excited to link to something in my blog because I hear that is what bloggers do). Basically, I was very excited to read about Ferberizing because Matt Ferber, son of Richard Ferber MD, was a friend of mine in high school. Not so excited to read about it to actually buy the book, but excited enough to seek out a blog post or two on the topic.

So Leo has a bed time, 8:00, and a routine. The first item in the routine is changing him into his sleeper. This isn’t hard because we never change him out of the sleeper in the morning. In fact, the routine has inspired us to dress Leo for the day. Then we read to him either “the Economist” or “The New Yorker”. (I told you he was advanced). Then I plop him on the breast and hope he gets real drowsy. Again, this worked on the first night, but last night our parenting skills were put to the test.

See how strong and happy Leo looks standing in his crib in the daytime. Last night it looked just like this, but Leo stood up and sobbed at the top of his lungs. I think something about standing and sobbing into the dark is so much sadder than lying down, but maybe I’m just crazy. We’d come to comfort him as the method suggested. He’d calm down, but just as we were ready to leave he’d get this terrible look of fear on his face. After four trips we finally got the boy to sleep.

Have you ever heard of pizza?

One hears that the sleeplessness and caretaking of a young baby can make parents absent minded. Usually it is me that displays most of these characteristics. For example, earlier this week, I lost my breast milk at work. This is one of those things that I can’t really ask around about, “excuse me, have you seen my breast milk?” Anyway today Caleb also displayed some flakey behavior when he emailed Jason Wright at Google to ask him if he’d ever heard of pizza? That’s our family code for “I don’t want to cook tonight”. I was sad to see that Caleb did not sign his email with “I love you” or any more embarrassing sign-offs to this mysterious Jason.