« June 2005 | Main | August 2005 »
Due to popular demand (really, all 7 people who read this blog have requested) here is a little quicktime movie of the boy crawling.
Enjoy.
(p.s. You can tell if you look closely - I stopped the camera right before he completely melted down. Too many takes to get the shot apparantly. Sulked all the way back to his trailer...).
|
Matthew and I have finally given in and joined the Park Slope Food Co-op. This was after 2 years of much hemming, hawing and peer pressure. Yes! We want good organic produce and products that aren't so expensive that they might as well be coated in platinum. No! We don't want to deal with co-op shifts and weird regulations like patchouli may not be worn in the cheese-cutting room. (Not that I wear patchouli. Anymore.) Matthew grew up in Berkeley environs and so has a serious aversion to hippies and socialists. It took much coaxing to get him to warm up to the idea. But again, being from SF Bay area he is a foodie and just one trip through the produce aisle sold him. That and the fact that our food bills are atrocious. So, after a magnificent round of rock, paper, scissors he went first to the indoctri... i mean orientation on Sunday while I stayed with the boy. I went the next night. I was very early so when I walked into the meeting room I took a seat on the end of a row. There were maybe 3-4 other people there and about 25 chairs. Being the thoughtful person that I am I thought "I should move in and sit inside so that people don't have to get past me to get a seat." So I moved into the center of the row. Behind me I heard a snort. Then some really foul muttered swearwords. (Foul enough that I shall not repeat them but involving female genitalia and several f-bombs). I realized that I had sat in front of someone and inadvertantly blocked their view of the co-op powerpoint presentation that we were going to have to endure for the next 2 hours. The swearing continued and I turned around in disbelief that this was actually happening. The woman behind me looked away and pretended to have not said a thing. She and I were the only people on that side of the room mind you. I turned back in my seat and she started up again. This was my introduction to my new co-op comrades with whom I will be sharing 2 and 3/4s hours of my life every 4 weeks. This woman proceeded to make a speech later scolding the presenter for not dwelling more on the fact that by being part of a food co-op we were all doing the right thing for the earth and the environment and our community. People clapped. The presenter looked mildly chagrined and thanked her sincerely for her comment. I sat there with my jaw open and wanted to yell "She's a freak!" But they would have called me a robber-baron running dog and driven me out and I really want to be able to buy organic yogurt for 40 cents a pop so i stayed mum. A bit of an exaggeration of course. There are lots of totally normal folk that are members. The majority actually. And then there are those who won't touch your meat when they are working checkout. I am looking forward to this little experiment, although i do qualify for parental leave so I don't have to do a shift until Lowell is 12 months. (Finally i get some valuable maternity leave! Whoo hoo! Yogurt all around!) I am predicting that Matthew will only last 3 months before he is reprimanded, tried and expelled though, so I may never get to regale you all with tales from the shifts.
|
Lowell is seven and half months and the milestones keep whizzing by. Seriously, I am shocked at how quickly this is all going. Every time I think I know who he is he changes. And sometimes it happens literally overnight. Matthew woke up the other morning and got Lowell out of his crib and brought him into bed with us. After a few minutes we realized he had grown overnight again. His face looked thinner and more boy-like and he was blabbing up a storm while pulling himself up on us nonstop. All marked changes from the day before. It's nuts.
We moved Lowell into his own room a couple weeks ago and it is soooooooo nice. For those of you who may not know the backstory we were sharing the third bedroom in our apt with our friends who we sublet from and they used it when they came to New York once a month. Long story short they don't need it anymore and we now have a proper nursery. (The second bedroom was our office/nursery but Lowell slept, or more correctly stayed awake, with us in our bedroom). This has been revolutionary in the sleep department. He has now slept through the night (7 pm to 5 am and then until 7 am) for two weeks. (Cue music: HALLELUJAH! HALLELUJAH! ETC! ) Matthew and I are actually sleeping for more than 2 consecutive hours every night. There are no more whisper-fights at 3 am. And we get to have sex again too which is a good thing (apologies to you who think that's TMI). We also have a central location for all things Lowell which may not sound that important but when you inhabit less than 1000 square feet it makes a big difference. No more diaper pail by the scanner. And of course it's fun to have a new room to do up. It reminds me of this recurring dream that I used to have when I lived in a 400 sq foot (ahem, rounding up) 1 bedroom. I would go through a door that I hadn't noticed in the apartment and there would be this huge, dusty, shuttered ballroom on the other side. I'd hit myself on the forehead and go "God, I really have to start using this room..."
Lowell can crawl anywhere now which is so great and so not great as you can imagine. He is already pulling himself up (see fig. A) and because of this napping no longer holds the attraction it once did. He's cut his first teeth which is cool except when he uses me as a human teething ring. ("Sure he looks harmless but he's a killer! the most foul, cruel, and bad-tempered rabbit you ever set eyes on! With big pointy teeth!") He is eating lots and lots and lots of solid food. He pretty much likes everything we've fed him so far except avocado and peas (see fig. B). His favorite seems to pear mixed with rice cereal. And honestly, who doesn't love that? (Are you really still reading?
If you are I assume that you are either actually interested in this stuff or you are morbidly fascinated by what a new mom can prattle on about. Either way, onward!) He talks a lot more and likes to scream at the top of his lungs (again see fig A). Lowell loves the vaudeville act that Matthew and I do to keep him from freaking out from hunger in his high chair. We are a regular George and Gracie with the softshoe and the ditties about his enormous appetite. (I can tell some of you out there are clucking softly and shaking your heads. Edge, yes, completely lost).
That's it on the seven and a half (really 3 quarters but who's counting) months. New album below of more pics and yes we have no shame at all about the sheer freaking amount of photographs that we have of Lowell. Well maybe a little, but we cannot help ourselves. Have pity.
|
This is my passionate ode, my paean, my trilling hosanna to Denial, as good a friend as I have ever had. I feel like that as of late, Denial has gotten a bad rap and I just want to offer the counterpoint to the recovering alchoholics and therapized dysfunctional family members. How else could I take the rest of the summer off when my spouse is technically also jobless without Denial there to wink and hand me my beachtowel? How else could I get on the subway after what happened in London last week if Denial was not my cheerful traveling companion? Why, since the re-election of our president in November I have been imbibing with my chum Denial on a regular basis. And the child-rearing would be nigh impossible without Denial there to soothe me through pretty much every waking moment. Thank you, thank you, dear dear Denial, when i see just one set of footsteps in the sand I'll know it will because you were carrying me. xo A.
|
1. Walk down the street with baby in shiny new stroller. Notice many passers-by smiling at your beautiful child, even laughing out loud at how charming and obviously clever he is. Feel very very proud of oneself and one's progeny. Stop and pull back canopy and see that child's hat has fallen in his face and he is waving his hands in front of himself like a blind man.
2.Accidently lock baby in the vestibule of your building. After tying the dog up outside go back to get child only to realize that keys are in diaper bag hanging on the stroller. Whoops!
3. Sleep deprivation exercise: find a leak under the sink. Put bucket under leak. When bucket fills take out and pour back into sink. Wonder what that gushing sound is under the sink... Scream and replace bucket. Repeat.
4. Play fun new game with spouse: Who's the Bigger Martyr? Who has had the least sleep? The worst day? The stinkiest diaper? The most nighttime duty? The sorest nipples? Who is cooking dinner for the tenth time this week? The best part about this game is that you both always win.
5. Fall utterly in love with a toothless drooling insane midget. Start a website to proclaim this love to the universe.
|
Is everyone else totally freaking out about Sandra Day O'Connor? The headline on nyt.com made me drop my tea. (Actually drop my tea, that's not slang for anything). In the wishful thinking fantasy world that I live in Sandra Day (as I like to call her) was going to hang in there until Bush was out of office. Sandra Day really regretted her stand in Bush v. Gore and to make things right was going to screw that motherf*^!er out of replacing a swing vote. I love my fantasy world. I am going to drink now.
|
