First Solid(ish) Food

We gave Owen his first solid food last weekend, and what an adventure it has already been. The boy loves to put everything else in his mouth, so food should be a breeze, right? Ha. What Beginner Mom naiveté that was.

Food #1: rice cereal. As it turns out, it tastes suspiciously like macerated Communion wafers. Non-starter. That food trial was halted after only four rounds. Okay fine. On to the next round.

Food #2: carrots. After Owen went to bed last night, I spent my precious quiet evening moments peeling, chopping, boiling, pureeing, portioning, and freezing four pounds of organic carrots. All the while I'm thinking, "Man, I can't wait until his breakfast tomorrow! He's going to freaking love me for this."

So morning comes and I'm all jazzed up for the orange goo that's about to coat my body and tickle the taste buds of my little nugget. I gave him some serious pep talks while I was prepping for the big meal: "Now listen, O, these are going to be the BEST carrots you've EVER had." And, necessarily, that would have to be true.

But instead of getting to watch his first look of delight at real live food, I got to watch his first full body shudder. Like a full-on eyes closed, frowny mouth, body convulsing, carrot expelling shudder. Hmm. Not exactly what I was looking for.

So a few lessons learned:

• Don't start with four pounds of an untested food
• I'm sensing a looming uphill battle for broccoli
• When life gives you rejected carrot puree, make carrot cake. (Good tip, Mom)

Furrowing brow: the first symptom of Carrot Rejection

And then it's over. Carrot Experience #1: Fail.

Smiley boy before his delicious rice cereal

Learning to eat is simply not a clean adventure.

An Emotional Tug-of-War

This is my last week of Stay-At-Home-Mommyhood, and my brain is having an emotional tug-of-war as it tries to figure out whether I should be happy or sad. Right now the relentless and foreboding Woe seems to be tugging hardest, but the nimble and unpredictable Enthusiastic may win out by Monday morning.

I'm really trying to look at the bright side...

• Right now I'm on track to completely lose the ability to converse with adults. Proof? Mama refers to herself exclusively in the third-person all day. She develops an awkward nervous twitch if others broach topics outside the realm of baby pooping/eating/sleeping/babbling. She has some difficulty avoiding interludes of song during sustained conversation. It's probably time to reintroduce some adult playdates into her life.
• As Owen grows and learns and becomes a big boy, I'm very obviously regressing. I've re-memorized every Disney song I ever learned. And while "Part of Your World" was fun to sing over boxed wine with my best girlfriends in college, it becomes far less cool to hum the entire Little Mermaid soundtrack during virtually every quiet moment in a day. (Though I swear Owen loves me more when I'm speaking like a Sebastian the Crab, mon.) Probably good to fill my mind with some more...er...stimulating material.
• Compared to being the full-time mom of a 4-month-old, school is going to my downtime. I'll be able to finish an email in one sitting, worry only about my own potty needs, eat breakfast on occasion, use both of my arms at the same time, wear clothes free of baby puke, untether myself from the baby monitor. Who knew pursuing a doctorate could be the easiest part of one's life?

But then there are things I'm having a harder time with...

• I really and truly love calling myself "mama" and am proud of my new pooping/eating/sleeping/babbling expertise. I sort of like having Hakuna Matada stuck on repeat in my head. And I especially love ending every day completely and utterly exhausted, knowing that every ounce of my energy went into raising that lovable little boy. I know it's important for both of us to have a little independence and to do a little growing on our own, but that's sure not going to make it any easier to be away from him. Ugh. (PS - If our nanny calls any of you in a panic on Monday morning, unable to locate the baby, you should probably tell her to check my backpack.)
• I will have soon "real" and "important" things to write, which sadly precludes regular Baby Spam updates. I'm going to continue posting pictures and hopefully writing every now and again. Not sure if anyone is even reading this anymore, but it's been such a great outlet for me and I truly appreciate anyone and everyone who has stopped by to check in on us over these last several months.

Mary Poppins sing-along + Bumper Jumper = happiest Owen

3-month vs. 4-month picture

Loyalty training starts early

Sleepy boys in the morning

I love me some ridiculous winter outfits

Awkward Hair Phase requires some 'do-experimentation

New Tricks

Apparently Owen's New Years Resolution was to break free from the stifling chains of infant immobility and put those God-given limbs to use. He started flipping over on New Years Eve, and has continued with great gusto. As fun as this new trick is to watch, it's made every virtually every flat surface -- barring only the floor -- a total hazard; Owen giggles mischievously as he tries to roll off his changing table and tried multiple times to flip out of his bath seat tonight. Oh, the excitement that comes with mobility and free will...

This is what happens when Daddy dresses you...

The First 100 Days

Yesterday marked the 100th day of our lifelong term as The Parents. In honor of this milestone, a look back at all we've accomplished (or not) and the lessons we've learned along the way:

The Economy: Armed with an iPhone and free 2-day shipping, I have valiantly set out to save the US economy, one Amazon 1-Click order at a time. My account history confirms this: 42 orders since July, the vast majority placed sometime between midnight and 3:00am. From the comfort of my rocking chair with sleeping/nursing babe in arm, I've checked a variety of items off my shopping list, like diapers and baby wash, breast milk storage bags and various bottles, and every kind of pacifier ever created, purchased in the hope that Owen will please-dear-God-just-decide-to-like-one. When the UPS delivery guy comments on the volume of packages destined for Apartment 2A, you know you've done your part in fueling the American economy.

Job creation: There is no American who can create jobs more effortlessly and expeditiously than a newborn. Take our household, for example. With a lottery-won budget, I would staff this place with at least 6 additional FTEs. How about Head of the Diaper Authority, who could oversee changing and butt wiping, diaper disposal and smell management, and emergency bathing for when things get really crazy? Or Director of Laundry, who would have a dotted line relationship to the Diaper Authority and handle all collateral damage to clothes and sheets and towels? There's clearly a role for Chief Putter-to-Sleeper (CPS), who of course needs a Deputy for those nights when additional resources are needed to preserve sanity and hearing. I'd hire a Bottle Administrator, who could assemble and heat bottles with best-in-class speed. And maybe a PR Rep, who'd always be on-hand to explain to grumpy members of the public that all babies cry, no I'm not doing anything to hurt him, and yes I'm quite certain they couldn't do any better.

Energy: Our current energy source is unmistakably nonrenewable and -- after 3 months of nightly sleep interruptions -- is being depleted at an alarming rate. We know that this is the biggest challenge for our administration going forward, and we're conducting an all-out search for alternative energy reserves. We'll be sure to provide updates when and if they become available.

Thanks to (Great-)Grandma Fisher for knitting 3 generations of stockings

Owen's religiously diverse holiday season

Christmas Eve pajama party at Uncle Rob and Aunt Jamie's

Our family's first Christmas morning

I definitely have a thing for baby+hats

Quality lap time with Grandpa

Playing a game of peekaboo with Grandpa and the mirror

Grandma's left arm = favorite sleeping spot

The Barasz/Fishers on Christmas night

Happy holidays!

Busy getting ready for Christmas and making myself sick on Christmas desserts, so just pictures this week. Hope you all have a very merry Christmas and a happy Hanukkah!

Month 2 vs. 3

Owen's new best friends: Right Hand and Left Hand

Daddy and O

Couldn't be conned into a smile, but we'll take what we can get

Pondering the grocery list for Christmas dinner with Grammy

"Really, Mom? Another ridiculous hat?"

Hanging with Uncle Robert

Happy in the Bumbo seat

Sheepish grin after his usual naptime swaddle escape

Baby Unfriendly

Over these last 3 months, I've come to learn the hard truth: the world was simply not designed to accommodate babies. In fact, it may have actually been designed as a sort of make-God-laugh obstacle course for mothers. Despite the fact that "was a baby" is the sole common line on every person's resumé of life, much of the world seems to forget that babyhood is inevitable and necessary, and they've made it mind-bogglingly difficult for infant-toting moms to navigate in any remotely graceful way.

Some key areas of difficulty:

The Diaper Change: I recently went out to a fancy lunch at a fancy restaurant and had to go in search of a fancy bathroom to change a decidedly unfancy poopy diaper. Surprise, surprise. Fancy restaurants do not have changing tables. I put on my Mommy MacGyver hat, found a fancy towel cabinet, cleared off the fancy potpourri adorning the top, and defiled that fancy furniture and made my own changing table. Hey, if you're not going to consider your not-yet-potty-trained-but-still-a-human-being clientele (read: people who don't deserve to be changed on a urine-splattered stall floor), then any elevated flat surface is fair game for baby butts.

The Breastfeed: Having lost all modesty by this point, it's no longer difficult to find a public place where I'm comfortable nursing. But that hasn't made feeding logistics a non-issue. While flying home from Thanksgiving, I was harassed by TSA Officers who deemed my breast pump a threat to national security. They scanned my bag three times and tested the pump for bomb residue. Then they finally thought to ask me what it was. (Geniuses.) Luckily they took my word for it and didn't force me into the very bovine act of milking in public.

The Stroller Roll: Like many city moms, I have a heavy-duty stroller that can be stopped by neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night, and could probably take flight if the conditions were just right. With all that functionality comes weight and heft, which means I'm definitely not climbing any stairs with that beast. So as I got off the train yesterday, I had a moment of panic when I realized that the station did not have an elevator. I was trapped. I subconsciously started humming the old song about Charlie, the man who couldn't get off the T and "would ride forever 'neath the streets of Boston." Luckily, my time 'neath the streets was only 15 minutes, but with a fussy baby who just wanted to start moving again, it sure felt like forever.

Really, it's just too bad we all can't remember what it was like to be 3-months-old and grumpily hungry or uncomfortably soiled or frustratingly immobile. Maybe then we'd make it a little easier for all the Tiny People and their mommies who are just trying to make it work.

The Bumper Jumper -- absolute best thing $31 can buy

Ready for winter

Buying Owen's first Christmas tree!


Getting in the holiday spirit!

My two loves at my favorite time of year

Can we keep the tree up year-round? Best baby entertainment ever.

Messages to Mommy

Owen's first unambiguous message to Mommy: daytime napping sucks and I'd much rather spend the whole day awake with you [because you're so hip and cool and interesting and an amazing singer and dancer and you're basically the best mom ever]. The implication is that I have 2 to 3 hours of baby-free time per day, which has made blogging a little more challenging. So in order to get in my one post for the week, I'm copping out with a video post. More next week!

A less obvious, but oh-so endearing message to Mommy:

Said bear costume and big boy stroller