Puppy Breath

I don't know what, exactly, this "baby smell" is that connoisseurs and fanatics wax eloquently about. I see them burrowing their noses through the hair of infants, inhaling deeply with a look of contentment and wonder.

For a very long time after my baby's birth all I could smell on him was... well... birth. It smelled like flesh. It smelled raw. For a long time afterward, I smelled like that too and I did not like it. I do not mean to say that my baby's smell repulsed me. Only, that he smelled to me like what he was. A person newly made of flesh and blood.

A friend of mine suggested that the "baby smell" people rave about is really the perfume of the powders and shampoos we use on them.

Now the baby is almost two and, oddly, he has indeed developed a smell that I have become very attached to, that I even long for sometimes. He has snot breath. I hate snot, it's completely gross, yet his sour little breath of milk and mucous has me totally enthralled. I can only compare it to the guilty pleasure of enjoying the peepee smell of a puppy's breath in your face.

Sometimes I think

Sometimes I think this blog is too tame. It seems like, no matter what, you can't help but imagine the person reading your words and fear their judgement or criticism. Does part of me always imagine transcripts of my blog being proffered into evidence during some hypothetical custody hearing with DHS? Surely DHS has better things to do than worry about whether or not I'm too lazy to put moisturizer on my baby's face rash every time he needs it. I mean, sometimes I just don't want to have to get up off the couch.

Prom Night

Our work place had an appreciation dinner for our volunteers and we decided to make the theme of the party "Prom Night." Here I am with my date enjoying a stolen moment of whispered conversation....

Christmas riddle

Question: What do babies do at wild company Christmas parties?




Answer: Mess with the copy machine the same as adults.

Halloween 2008

The baby went as a Burmese Buddhist monk. We shaved his head because we figured this would be the last year we could do that without him refusing. But, if he lets us next year, we'll shave it again and make him Nosferatu!

Lil' Lexicon

It is very sobering to be humbled by a plastic $9.95 toy phone. Here you have been mesmerized by your child’s every new word, thinking him so clever, so quick, so unique. Then, you come across this language skills building phone, press the buttons and hear those words that have become so familiar to you. Ball, car, baby…. I guess they must all start with those. Then you notice the words on there that your baby is NOT saying and you think “oh my gosh, I need to start teaching him how to say duck. Why doesn’t he say duck yet?”

Baby’s Current Lexicon at 19 months old

Words he says all the time:

Baby: Used to refer to himself or his stuffed animals. Sometimes used to refer to his father or me, as in he points to one of us, says “baby” and laughs hysterically.
Mommy, Mamma, Mimi: Mother.
Ma: Either means mother or milk.
Dadda: Daddy.
da DA!: Meaning unknown. Perhaps indicates excitement or interest in something.
Car: Cars, gears, machines, anything with wheels, ceiling fans.
Ball: Ball.
Moo: The sound of cows, pigs and sheep.
Yellow: This is a new one. It’s the first color he’s learned to say and it’s interesting because he has always seemed to favor yellow. The placement of his tongue for the ELL sound is, admittedly, still a little unorthodox.
No: Hell no.
NooOoo: Oh my, but you simply mustn’t do that.
Hi: Greetings.
Hello: Greetings (used primarily when he’s on the phone)
Bye: Fare thee well.
Juice: Juice, soda, beer.
Uh Oh: I’ve dropped something; I’ve seen something on the floor that looks like someone might have dropped it there at some time; I’ve thrown my truck across the room (narrowly missing your head) and would like you to go pick it up for me.
Tractor: one of his first, now rarely used since the discovery of “car.”
Oww: (meow) Cat.
Shoes: Shoes.
Bath: Bath.
Tree: Tree.

American Sign Language words: milk, ball, bird, hungry, water.

Words he says infrequently: tickle, light, clock, down.

Words his father says he has heard him say: ABCs (not A – Z, but literally “a-bee-sees”), castle, grandma, zebra, bird, truck, yogurt, banana, balloon.

My Reader's Digest Moment

Don’t we all just love it when our children scream and grab for the phone every time we try to talk on it? Yes, it’s cute, but it sure can be distracting! Here’s a little trick I tried on Junior that I think really taught him a lesson.

“Ring! Ring!” I said loudly and picked up the phone. My little dumpling immediately began grappling for the receiver.

“Oh, uh huh, yeah…. hmmm….,” I murmured earnestly. Now the baby was clawing at my eyes.

“Yes, I see…” Was that a toy tractor that just hit me upside the head? “Well, okay then, thanks for calling.”

I hung up the phone and turned towards Nathaniel very somberly. “Baby,” I said, “that was God. He told me to tell you that…HE DOESN’T LIKE YOU!!!!”

Crib Recall

Oh the irony. We specifically purchased a new crib, rather than considering a used or hand me down one, because everything you read warns of the importance of having one that has been damaged and meets the latest safety standards. The Aspen 3 in 1 (i.e. Wal-mart’s most attractive cheap crib) was recalled partly because of faulty hardware and also because it is easy to attach the drop side upside down. This can cause it to mess up and make a gap that the baby can get stuck in. Needless to say, I ran straight to the crib tonight and checked it out. Thank you, hubby, for putting it together perfectly! And, the hardware checked out as well.

But, you can’t help thinking about the two families known to have lost their babies because of this issue. A 9-month old and a 6-month old. It breaks my heart to imagine those couples happily putting their cribs together for their new babies, and then that moment turning so tragic some months later.

To this day, while on road trips with my mother, she warns me about what I should do if we got into trouble. ”Now, theoretically, if we get abducted, I want you to run if you get a chance,” she’ll tell me. “Don’t try to stick around and save me, just get out of there.” I nod, and say, “yeah, sure, mom,” thinking to myself that she’s nuts. What does she mean get out of there and leave her? Now, though, I’m starting to get it. Imagining something bad happening to your kid is beyond horrible.