Hellooooo....

It's been a ridiculously long time since I've written anything here, and of course there's so much I'd like to write about. I'm mostly sorry that I haven't been keeping up with writing about Ben, because I have also not written a word in his baby book in over a year. Oh well; at least there are plenty of pictures...and Facebook updates! Maybe I'll print them out one day and tuck them into his mostly blank baby book.

I also have lots to report about the band (like, that our CD is out on iTunes!), but that will have to wait. I want to write a birthday letter to Ben like I've always done for George, though it will have to be for his "half-birthday" since he just turned 1 1/2. And yes, I'm even late on that. As I said, Oh well. Anyway... here goes.

Dear Ben,

Happy, happy eighteen months! And happy they have been indeed. In fact, you are such a happy boy that friends routinely tell us that you're the happiest baby they've ever seen.

Ok, so, you're not really a baby anymore, since you've been walking for so long that we barely remember when you didn't, but I'm afraid it is going to take a good long while for you to lose your moniker of Baby Ben. It just suits you so well!

I'm sorry I haven't been chronicling your extraordinary babyhood/toddlerhood very well. I've really been insanely busy with work and, well, with you! When I'm *not* working, I'm spending the time with you (and the other kids, of course), and while I've gotten pretty good at multi-tasking, I haven't yet figured out how to give you my full attention and blog or write in your baby book at the same time. The real kids in front of me win out over the chronicling... (Right now, btw, you are napping, and I should be doing the same, or grading papers... but I have really, really been wanting to write this!)

A few things about you. Though we call you Baby Ben, no one can convince you that you're not one of the big kids. You always want to be right there, in the middle of the action, with everyone. My favorite example was over the summer. We were all in the pool and we were playing beach-ball-tag, where we have about 10 or more beach balls of various sizes that we throw at each other. (There's no "it"--it's more of a free-for-all.) Anyway, Brad and I had George cornered and were pelting him at very close range (not hard enough to hurt, mind you! But it was pretty rambunctious). You were nearby, wearing your arm floaties (which you took to like a pro from the get-go), playing on the steps. When you saw us laughing and throwing the balls at George, you climbed out of the pool, walked over to the corner where we were, and lowered yourself into the pool in between George and the side, right where we were throwing all of the balls. How pleased with yourself you were! I wouldn't have even thought that there would be room for you in there, and also, I don't think you had ever lowered yourself into the pool like that before. But, like I said, no one was going to convince you that you were just a baby and shouldn't be right smack in the middle of all the rowdy fun we were having!

Let me list at least a few things that I love about you right now (since that's what I usually do in these birthday letters).... I love how happy you are when you wake up, and how usually you look at me and say in this really sleepy and loving and sort of satisfied voice, "Mama." And then you look over at your daddy and say "Bob-Bob" with the same sleepy, loving tone. (You still don't call him Dad!) You used to look for the cats next, and say one or the other of their names, but you have added a new intermediate step. You scooch or crawl over to Bob and kneel over him and say right up in his face, "Rock and roll!" Usually with great insistence and enthusiasm. Yesterday morning when you awoke, you opened your eyes, smiled at me, and said "Mama... Mommy, Bobby, Baby, rock and roll!" As you can imagine, we're quite pleased with this development! (Especially given your early obsession with sh!t-kickin' country music :-)

The next thing you do, after you wake up and do your sweet little roll call, is to get up and head into the bathroom. And if we've forgotten to close the door to the toilet, you go right in and start plunging the toilet. For some reason, this is irresistible fun for you. This morning you went downstairs and I was lagging behind a bit; when you heard me coming down the stairs I could hear you running across the kitchen. When I got down there, there was no sign of you, but when I peeked into the bathroom off of the kitchen, I saw that you had left your calling card--the plunger in the toilet. When I turned around to look for you again, I saw that you had run around the corner into the doorway to the stairs leading down to the basement; you were poking your head around the doorway looking at me with this impossibly adorable, slightly guilty, trying-to-be-nonchalant look on your face, as if to say "What? What's the problem? I haven't been plunging the toilet or anything. I've been right here, by the basement stairs."

Anyway... Next, you generally say "boom-boom-boom", which means you want to go down to the basement to our jam space and start playing the drums. When we get down there, you insist on having us turn on all the colored lights, and then you ask to be set up on the drum throne so you can play. You can't reach the pedals, of course, but you don't let that stop you--you instruct us when it's time to hit them.

Another little story from the time before you had discovered toilet plunging... this was just a couple of days after we had gotten the drum kit, which was about two months ago now, I guess. So you were about 16 months old. We had a routine of going for a walk every morning when you woke up (though now the weather is getting a little chilly, so we usually go later in the day, if at all). You went down the stairs ahead of me, while I was still putting my shoes on (by the way, you've been an extremely adept stair-climber and -descender for months, which is a good thing, since our house is full of so many stairs!). When I got down to the kitchen, I didn't see you, but I figured you must be just hiding around the corner--you never went very far. So I said something like "Ok, Ben, I'm ready; let's Go!" Which *always* made you come running. (You LOVE to "Go!" and are always up for it, wherever we are going.) But, nothing. So I said it again a couple of times, and added that it was time to go for our walk (which also always got you excited), and that I had num-nums for you (again, any one of these things NEVER failed to make you come running). I even went so far as to open and close the door, which up to that point would have made you come running, and might have even made you cry out of fear that someone was going somewhere fun without you. But still, nothing. So I ventured over to the doorway to the basement stairs, fully expecting to see you hiding right there and smiling at me, but no. I went down the stairs and rounded the corner and still didn't see you, but at that point I heard the drums.... I kept going on until I reach the jam space, and there you were--with that same little "What? Who, me?" look on your face--holding the drum sticks but now standing in front of the kit, as you had obviously heard me coming and thought I'd be disapproving. I laughed and smiled and told you to go ahead and play, and you ran right back around to the other side and started banging away. Holding the sticks the right way and hitting the drums pretty much the right way! Unbelievably adorable and awesome. I did actually capture some of it on video, on my phone, which you will have probably seen by the time you are old enough to read this....

So, anyway, we usually have a little drumming session, and then we have a little breakfast and go for a walk if it's warm or we go up to the man cave which we have sort of Ben-proofed, although that is a constant work-in-progress, since you're constantly growing and also thinking up new ways to reach things... (Like pulling big cushions off of chairs, or moving chairs around....)

Another really sweet memory of you from very early in the summer... We were all at the back of the yard, putting together the trampoline that Maga and Grandma Jane had gotten us for Christmas. You were over closer to the house, but then decided to come see what we were doing. It's a pretty long walk for a little guy (you weren't much over a year old at that point), but you were undaunted. About halfway across, you spotted Coco, curled up (or stretched out--I can't quite recall) next to the edge of the fence around the pool. You deviated slightly from your path so that you would go right by him and when you got to him you bent down and "kissed" him right on his fluffy body. I put "kiss" in quotation marks because your kisses at that point were more like just putting your mouth up to the designated kiss-recipient. Anyway, then you proceeded on your way across the rest of the yard to us. Soooo sweet.

You love the kitties and, thank goodness, they are very tolerant and patient with you! I mean you really adore them, and you like to show your love by yes, kissing them, and sometimes petting them gently, but also by grabbing and pulling their tails/paws/a handful of fur.... You used to like to lie down right on top of them! Or crawl right over them when you were in your crawling phase. You don't do that so much anymore, but you're still big into the grabbing and pulling thing. They are unbelievably patient. Except for Lucy, who hisses at you from time to time, which you hate. Sometimes you hiss back at her, which is so funny and sad--sad because you just don't understand why she would behave that way when all you want to do is love her!

You love your siblings and light up when you see them. You have been great at saying Lindsey's name from very early on (it was one of your first words, and you say it quite clearly), but you have nicknames for your brothers. George is A-duh and Brad is Ung, which evolved from what was at first Ugh. As I said, you adore them, and you love repeating their names over and over whenever you see them or whenever you even hear us talking about them.

You continue to have an amazing, special relationship with your daddy, who takes care of you every day. (I take care of you every day, too! But you two really do spend a lot of time together.) You still love napping on him, and your latest thing is to rough-house with him, which he clearly loves every bit as much as you do, if not more! You also love watching football with him (you call out "football!" any time you get even a glimpse of a game), and you two call your rough-housing "tackling".

Another truly extraordinary thing about you that your daddy and I really love is that you are very fond of the concept "back"--not just as in people coming back, but as in putting things back! You love to put pretty much anything back, and most of the time we don't even have to prompt you. You'll pick something up, walk around with it, show it to us, and then, in your adorable little voice, with great pride and decisiveness, you'll say "Back!" as you put it back. I've never seen anything like it. You obviously got this trait from your dad. We're hoping it might rub off on your older siblings and, ahem, your mom.

You and swimming.... I've already talked a little about it, but you really took to the water this summer like a little fish. From pretty early on in the summer you loved your arm floaties, and were swimming around the entire pool like a pro with them. You were so tiny! To see your little head floating above water as your arms and legs propelled you all over... it was really something to see. But as much as you loved the freedom the arm floaties afforded you, you eventually concluded that they were for babies, as no one else was wearing them, and you took them off and actually started swimming a little bit on your own toward the end of the summer. We're pretty sure you'll keep it up over the winter in the hot tub, though you're now tall enough to stand in it, so you're not swimming quite as much these days!

And also filed under the category of I'm-not-a-baby is the way you are bound and determined to go down the stairs the way we all do. At first, you would crawl, and it was so cute--you'd get down in the crawling position at the top of the man cave stairs, and then you'd back up toward the top step, except sometimes you'd miscalculate and end up with one leg on the wrong side of the railing, so you'd have to crawl forward and then come around again for another pass. Really, it was unbelievably adorable. And kind of amazing that such a little guy could handle the stairs so well! But it's not enough for you. You will now wait at the top of the stairs for us to come hold your hand so you can go down the grown-up way. Or you'll try to reach up and grab the railing, which is just a bit out of reach, but surely won't be for long....

You LOVE the Itsy-Bitsy spider song and for months have been putting your thumbs together trying to decipher how to do the spider-motion. You also love Patty-Cake and you especially associate it with Grandma Jane, with whom you also have a very special and close relationship. And you've also developed a great bond with Maga, despite the fact that she lives across the country.... She adores you and can't ever stay away for too terribly long!

You love your Duplo Legos and are even learning some of the letters on them (we got you the alphabet ones). And you're working on your colors as well. One of the few books that you haven't torn apart is Spot's Colors and you love to read that with us. I can't wait until you get over your book-destroying-thing and we can bring out more books to read with you!

Oh yeah, that reminds me... I do have one book that I keep in the car and read to you either before or after our walk (yes, we drive to the park to take our walks most of the time!). It's Llama, Llama, Red Pajama. You LOVE it and never seem to tire of having me read it to you. I keep it in the car because when you're there you're strapped in and you can't destroy it!

You also LOVE spoons. You love to hold them and play with them, but you haven't quite worked out the details of feeding yourself with them just yet. Oh yes, and you also love the piano, which unfortunately no one besides you ever really plays. Basically, you are just crazy about music. The other day George practiced his recorder in front of you (which he doesn't usually do) and you ran right up to him and put your face up next to his, getting as close as you possibly could so that you could see exactly what it was that he was doing. You were utterly enthralled. I can't wait until you're old enough to take up an instrument in earnest. I have a feeling it won't be all that long.

But I take it back; I can wait! I love you so much, just as you are. I am savoring pretty much every moment of your babyhood/toddlerhood. Your face... your eyes... your smile... your walk/run... your hugs and kisses... your voice... You bring me boundless joy, each and every day. So much love and happiness, and all of it so unexpected at this point in my life! Thanks for being you, Ben. I love you.

Love,

Mom

Baby Ben Update

Life has been way too crazy to find time for blogging... and also too crazy to keep up with the baby book I had so diligently been filling out every month for Ben. But I have a few spare minutes (not really, but...), so I thought I'd jot down what Baby Ben has been up to the last few days.

He continues, of course, to be a total joy! Pretty much the happiest, smiley-est little guy you ever did see.

He had been working so much on various physical developments (crawling, standing, cruising...) that he hadn't said any new words in quite a while. But now he's on a verbal learning streak again. New additions to his vocabulary include uh-oh, which sounds more like "uh-uh", uttered whenever something falls or gets knocked over (usually by him, and usually on purpose); all gone, which sounds more like "ah-guh!"; all done, which, you guessed it, sounds like "ah-duh"; up, pronounced very clearly and decipherably; and arms up, which sounds like "ah-up" or "ah-uh", and is always accompanied by his putting his arms up in the air. While all of these utterances are completely adorable and sweet, "up" has to be my favorite. He finds occasion to say it all the time. For example, he'll sit up in bed right when he first wakes up, with his eyes still half-closed, he'll bust out a definitive, authoritative "up!" Or if we're up in the man cave, he'll proudly proclaim "up" when he sees Bob coming up the stairs. Or when he's in one of his exersaucers or a high chair and wants to get out. Or when he sees someone stand up. Or when he pulls himself up. What a great early word! So multi-purpose, and so positive....

On the flip side, he has figured out what "no" is and when you say it to him he'll give you the most serious little look, almost a stern look, and start shaking his head. This is when he's doing something he really wants to keep doing and you're telling him not to. If he doesn't mind being told no or if he hears us saying no to each other or if we read it in a book, he gets the most adorable little smile on his face and then shakes his head. If you ask him a question, any question, he'll usually smile and shake his head.

Actually, that's not quite true. If you ask him, when he's on the bed, if he wants to go up to the man cave, he'll smile and clap. If you ask him if he wants some num-nums he'll perk right up and start looking around for where you're hiding the goods. And if you ask him if he wants to go somewhere with you and he does, he'll book right on over to you as fast as he can and put his arms up, waiting for you to pick him up. He's definitely a baby on the go, and would rather not be left behind!

More physical feats of late... in addition to the head-shaking and the clapping, and the crawling, standing, and cruising, he's become quite the acrobat. The other day he did a full flip off the side of the bed, fortunately landing in the laundry basket. With a pillow on top of himself (he was trying to climb over the pillow, which was on the side of the bed, and which flipped right along with him). He has also figured out the best way to get down off of something (couch, chair, bed) is to dive, head first. He does it slowly, and puts his arms out, but he does often land on his head. He's such a tough little guy, though. He very rarely cries.

Laurie, one of his godmothers, noticed what a little tough guy he is the other day when he closed his baby laptop right on his thumb. She said he pulled the thumb out, looked at it for a second, then sort of brushed it off on his leg and continued playing.

I was similarly impressed when he fell off the bed the other day (not his careful sliding that he does on purpose) and landed on his head, with a thud, on the wood floor. (Where was his mother?! I was sitting right next to him but had taken my eye off of him for a second. It does not take long for a baby to fall off the side of a bed!). Anyway, he didn't so much as whimper. He said something sort of like "eh!" and then got up into a crawling position, and crawled right out the bedroom door, obviously quite pleased with himself for breaking out of the prison of the bed, and eager to explore. He headed out into the hallway (with mom tailing him very, very closely) and paused as if trying to decide which way to go. He opted for the route up to the man cave, crawling quite quickly across the floor and over to the stairs. Previously, he had only ever mounted one or two of them, but I guess he was feeling emboldened by his new-found freedom, and he climbed up every last stair until he got up to Dada at the top.

Speaking of Dada, though he remains utterly attached to Bob, he still doesn't really say Dada so much! It's gotten to be almost a running joke now and in fact we sometimes wonder if Ben is holding out on purpose because he thinks it's funny or something. Until recently, if you'd say "Dada" to Ben, he'd look at you like he was thinking about it and then he'd reply "MA-MA". But now he has a new response: "Bah-Bob!" It sort of sounds like a cross between "Bob" and the word for daddy in Italian ("Babbo"), both of which he's heard Bob called, but honestly, we all call Bob "Dada" wayyyy more than we call him anything else, so it's kind of funny that for whatever reason Ben's just not saying it. The funny thing about it is both how dada is supposed to be one of the easiest words to say, and also how attached he is to his dada. I mean, he was saying mama by about 3 months, and Lindsey and George soon thereafter, and he even said Linda (quite discernibly) when we went to visit my family in CA and he took a strong, instant liking to his Aunt Linda.

He also remains very attached to his big sissy. The other night when it was time for Lindsey to go to bed, and Ben saw that she was leaving the room, he protested so insistently and loudly that we just had to let her stay up an extra hour to hang out with him! He'll be very happy this summer when she's back with us every day.

He continues to love music, and fortunately he has expanded his tastes from $&!#-kickin' country to various other genres. The other day I had Mardi Gras music on Music Choice on the TV. He cruised across the front of the TV stand until he got to the volume button on the sound system. He cranked it all the way to "max volume" (which really is quite loud!), looked back at me, and then proceeded to start dancing!

I have so much more to say, but I'll wrap this up with one of the sweetest things he does, and that is giving out kisses. He doesn't really do the kissing motion with his lips--he just sort of opens his mouth and puts it on your cheek, and then pulls his face back a little and gives you the most adorable little smile, like he knows he's done something sweet. He's done this on occasion for quite some time (mostly to Bob at first), but now he's really doing it often. And he's started dispensing these to the cats, when he can catch them--somewhat to their dismay!

Somehow I'm managing to enjoy all of this quite fully, despite being stressed out/overwhelmed by work much of the time. I'm definitely counting the weeks to the end of the semester....

"Supermom" returns... with a whole lotta help

Today was my first day back at work after my maternity leave. Ok, so technically it was a leave from teaching, not from all work--I've continued to run the journal I edit, preparing one volume to go to press and working hard on soliciting articles (and referees for each article) for the next one, and transitioning to a new press, etc. etc. I've been working pretty intensely on it... but mostly from home, so it's really a different kind of thing. Today was my first day back working outside the home. And it went remarkably well--thanks largely to Bob, whose role as Mr. Mom started today in earnest. Or perhaps I should say started a new phase, because he's been taking care of Ben quite a bit ever since Ben was born. Anyway...

I teach in the late afternoon. As I was leaving, Baby Ben was curled up asleep next to his daddy, but when I came into the room to get my backpack he woke up, of course. Oops. Note to self: leave backpack by the door! But it was fine--Bob started reading him Blue Hat, Green Hat, which Ben loves, and so I left the house to the sounds of massive giggling. Just about my favorite sound in the universe. It was a perfect send-off, really!

Did I mention that it was the Coldest First Day Ever? In fact, I had to deal with two weather-related crises before going into work (frozen pipes, etc.). Not exactly how I'd envisioned my first day back, but I did get everything resolved in time, so it worked out ok. But anyway, walking from the car to my office, I was really glad for my birthday present from Bob--a very warm winter coat. And last year's Christmas present from him--toasty warm gloves.

My class went really well... I may have overwhelmed them a bit with the descriptions of all the work they're going to be doing, but then I lightened the mood a bit with a chunk of a Monty Python movie (which, believe it or not, *was* relevant to the material!)

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, after reading time, Ben and Bob went down to the exercise area in the basement. Bob worked out and Ben did, too, in his Exersaucer. After the workout, Ben was hungry! Bob fed him two kinds of baby food, part of a banana, some watered down apple juice, and some steak (no, you don't really need teeth to eat steak, it turns out). By the way, Ben goes crazy for steak. Just try eating it in front of him without giving him any. Actually, don't. It's not pretty.

After mealtime, they went up to the man cave, where Ben played with his toys on the floor for a little while, and then sacked out hard on top of Dad.

When I came home he was still asleep, so I whipped up dinner, with George keeping me company, telling me all about his afternoon....

After dinner, I hung out with Ben while Bob cleaned up from dinner, then it was my turn to have Ben sack out on top of me. George put himself to bed, while Bob sat next to me and acquiesced to watching The Bachelor. A wonderfully relaxing end to a really good day.

How did it feel to be back? Honestly, it felt great. It felt great because as much as I love staying at home with my family, I also love my job. And I felt so very good knowing that Bob was at home holding down the fort. There's no way I would have felt that great if I'd had to leave Ben with a sitter or in daycare. Yes, we're making some financial sacrifices to make this work, but we can swing it, and it's beyond worth it to us.

I've been a single working mom for so long... and then even after Bob and I got married, Bob was away for long hours (two hours of commuting every day), and was exhausted much of the time when he was home.... I can hardly express how different, and how amazing, it feels to have the support of a stay-at-home spouse. Of course, a crucial part of that is that Bob loves it, too. It wouldn't work if he weren't happy with the arrangement. But I think he loves it even more than I do. Retired at 45? Why not?! Good thing I love my job as much as I do, or I'd be jealous :-)

Baby Ben, Wordsmith

Wow, do I love being Baby Ben's mom! It is a delight. I keep wanting each stage to last, thinking it's the very best one, but then when the next one comes I like it even better! Actually, I seem to remember that happening when George was a baby, too....

The newborn phase was just extraordinary--as I've mentioned, I was better able to enjoy it the second time around for a whole slew of reasons, including that I was less overwhelmed and knew what I was doing this time. But as amazing as that was, it keeps getting better :-)

Now he's six months, and is going to town with language, which is particularly fun. He was a super-early talker, saying "Mama" and sometimes "Mom" at 3 1/2 months, though he only ever says it when he's hungry. But it's been quite consistent. The first time he said it, he was with Lindsey in the living room and I was in the kitchen. He said it very loudly and very clearly. It stopped both Lindsey and me in our tracks! Anyway, it's very handy, because as I said, he only says it when he's hungry, so that narrows it right down for us. Although I should add that one time in the car recently he was fussing for "Mama" and we tried popping in one of his country music CDs (his new favorite is the soundtrack for "O Brother, Where Art Thou"). He stopped fussing *immediately*. I mean, like, within the first note or two. So we've decided that "Mama" means not only "I'm ready for some milk" but also "Please crank up the country music."

We thought for sure, given how very much he adores Bob, that his next word would be "Dada" or "Dad", and it *sort* of was, but he really hasn't said it with any consistency. (He has said it maybe 5 times or so.) We theorize that this is because Bob is pretty much always by his side, so he has very little reason to have to call out to him to get his attention! In any case, he does have very effective ways of getting Bob's attention from nearby: he will bat his arms at Bob until Bob turns to him, and then he'll give Bob what we call "The Look". It's a look that says "Dad, I want to snuggle into your chest, and I want this more than anything in the whole world, so please don't even try to resist; just pick me up right now 'cuz who are we kidding--we both know you're going to." It's equal parts love, longing, and the knowledge that the longing is about to be satisfied. He has done this combination of inching himself over to Bob, batting him, and giving him The Look pretty much since the day we brought him home from the hospital.

I guess his next word was "hi", which he started saying last month. He says it when he's trying to get our attention, like when he wakes up next to me and I'm still sleeping, or if I'm on my laptop and he's ready for me to turn my attention to him. The utterance of "hi" is often accompanied by one of his trademark smiles (more about those in a minute). One particularly funny time when he said it was at Campfire, when one of the homeschool moms was playing peek-a-boo with him in his stroller when I had gone out of the room for a second to take a phone call. When I came back in, she said, "I could swear he just said hi to me!!" Yep!

His next word was "baby", though he doesn't say it with a lot of consistency yet, either. He does this thing, though, when I'm saying a word to him, where he looks so intently at my mouth, and you can almost see the wheels turning as he's taking it all in, and then he starts moving his mouth in imitation, first without vocalizing, just making the motion with his mouth and then with his tongue, and then he'll sort of whisper it, and then he'll finally vocalize. Then he'll keep practicing just making the motion with his mouth and doing an almost silent whisper. It's pretty cool to watch! To see the learning in action like that. Probably my favorite ever moments as a teacher. Anyway, as I said, he doesn't say it with much consistency and it's mostly repeating after us when we say it to him. Though one morning he woke us up by practicing: "Ba-ba-ba-ba-Baby! Ba-ba-ba-ba-Baby!" So now we say that all the time, to him, and about him to each other ("It's a ba-ba-ba-ba-baby!"). Yeah, we're total goners.

Next was "book", which actually comes out as "boo" (not "boo" like what a ghost says. "Boo" like the word "book" without the "k" at the end). It's mostly in response to when we say it to him, repeating it back to us (and oftentimes in that adorable little barely audible whisper), so I'm not sure it really counts yet. He definitely knows what it means, though--boy does he jerk to attention if you ask him if he wants to read a book! He loves, loves, loves book time, which we have every morning (and sometimes again throughout the day, but the morning one is our routine). His favorite books are Pat the Bunny, which he has particularly loved since he was 3 months old; Moo, Baa, La La La (awesome Sanrda Boynton book about the animal sounds); Blue Hat, Green Hat (another Sandra Boynton book that makes him laugh--he especially loves the last page where the dressed-up turkey is diving off the high-dive into the pool; he seems to get that this is funny); Daddy Loves Me (very sweet book about daddies and babies that I gave Bob for Christmas last year, when Baby Ben was still Ace!); and There's a Wocket in my Pocket, by Dr. Seuss (which was one of George's favorites as a baby, which makes it a little extra sweet for me... actually, most of these were George's favorites!). We also usually read Curious George 1 to 10 and Back Again, and he has a few more "touch-and-feel" books that he really enjoys (especially one from his Aunt Becky and another one from his Grandma Jane).

His next word was "Lindsey"--ok, a version thereof, sounding more like "Li". First, let me reiterate how much this boy loves his big sissy. He truly adores her. So, anyway, last month we got him to repeat "Li" a few times. But on Halloween night when we were out trick-or-treating, he started saying, very boldly and loudly, "Li-li-li-li-li!" in a clear attempt to get Lindsey's attention. He did this repeatedly, while we were out and also when we were back home (where it evolved into "Li-li"). He was manifestly extremely pleased with himself when it worked, by the way... which it did, every time, because Lindsey is equally enamored of him, and was mighty pleased herself.

And now, just today, he has come up with his version of George. George came in the room this morning and Ben greeted him with a very excited "Guh!" It was interesting, because it was a hard g, which I don't necessarily think of as being so tied to the soft g sound, but it was unmistakable that Ben was using it to designate George. We repeated "George" to him a bunch of times (and he did that thing where he studies your mouth with that look of concentration and then imitates the movement), and he did soften the g a bit, to a more gurgly kind of sound--alternating the hard g and the gurgly g. We also, in addition to having him repeat the sound when we said it, would point to George and ask Ben, "Who's that?" He said "Guh!" every time. George couldn't have been more delighted!

Another really fun thing about the last month or so has been introducing solid foods (his first one was a lemon wedge, and yes, we captured the hilarity on video), but I think I'll save that for another post.

It's also been great fun seeing his physical advances over the last month, with lots of ever-improving sitting up; standing up while being supported from behind (I mean while he leans ever-so-slightly against someone's legs--Lindsey first figured out that he could do this) or while holding on to something in front of him; and getting around on his back like a little inchworm-doing-the-backstroke. His latest thing is he'll inch across the king-sized bed if Bob isn't in it, in what seems a pretty clear attempt to go off and join his dad wherever he is!

But my favorite thing of all about this baby remains how happy he is. Even when he had a bad bout of teething, where he was crying in pain, we'd look at him and tell him we love him and he'd try to smile back at us through his tears. The sweetest thing!

And while we're on the subject, a little more about his smile.... It's a smile so radiant it could light up a medium-sized city during a power outage. Well, it sure lights us up, anyway. I may have mentioned this already, but we call them "smiles from heaven", because they really do seem almost other-worldly. George, when he was watching him on the couch the other day, put it this way: you could be crying, having the worst day of your life, and if you took one look at Baby Ben and his beaming, happy face, you couldn't help but feel happy yourself! George also added that Ben is just without a care in the world. It's true. He is so full of unfettered joy and innocence and exuberance, and it really is contagious when you're around him.

What a little (huge) blessing he is. And as you can no doubt tell, we're really savoring it.

Proud Mama

My boys are having a great day today!

First, George got elected president of his Campfire Kids troop (a co-ed, hippy version of scouts. I should add that I don't really know if the national organization of Campfire is so much more hippy than scouts, but our local homeschool troop definitely is!). Here was the speech he gave:

Please don't feel like you have to vote for me because you're my friend. If you do vote for me, I want it to be because you think I'd do the best job. I have a lot of experience with public speaking, so I think I'd do a pretty good job as president.

Now, if you've been reading this blog from the beginning, you may recall that George ran for president of his homeschool government class a couple of years ago, and lost. So I was really proud of him for having the courage to run.

And I'm really happy for him that he's finding ample opportunities to explore his interests and talents. It was one of the things I was worried about when we made the decision to homeschool full-time, that he wouldn't have the chance to experience certain things that I knew he would really enjoy and that usually happen in a school setting, like running in an election. And here he is, only a couple of years later, having gotten to experience both losing and winning. I'm also proud of how humble he is about all of this:-) He took it totally in stride, and also felt bad for his friend who ran against him--who, by the way, did get elected VP.

As for my other boy, he sat up today for the first time! He's been working up to it, almost sitting up, for a long, long time. But today was the first day where he stayed up long enough that we felt it could really "count". Correcting himself when he was about to fall over and such. Both Bob and I were sitting right here with him when he did it. Proud, happy moment!

Let's hope the evening goes just as well as the afternoon did, as Bob and I have a gig with the band downtown in a few hours. It's a quick (half-hour) gig at a downtown block party jointly held by the University and the city, called Communiversity Fest. Ok, gotta go get ready to rock!

Letter to Baby Ben, on his 3-month birthday

Dear Ben,

You are an amazing baby! (Sure, all mothers think that about their babies, and I'd have a hard time arguing that they're wrong. But whatever--this isn't their blog post; it's yours, so getting back to *you*....) I wanted to write some of my favorite things about this time with you because it's going by so fast, and I don't want to forget.

Probably my favorite thing is when you look up at me when I'm feeding and/or holding you.... You have this look in your eyes, like you're just taking it all in. So open and innocent, but in a way that almost seems wise. Like you have this wisdom that you brought with you from wherever you came from, like you're a foreigner in a new country, processing and making sense of all that you see. And then you'll suddenly break into a smile--a smile that could light up a whole city. In the wintertime. Your daddy and I call them smiles from heaven, because it actually kind of feels like heaven itself is smiling on us. It really does! You are so sweet, and beautiful--you pretty much just feel like pure love.

As you can tell, you have doting parents. We've been through this before, but circumstances are such that we are both in a position to enjoy it much more this time around. It's funny to think back about how disruptive a baby once seemed. It seems as natural as can be this time. And you know, we've always been very happy with each other, but since you've come along it's off the charts. You bring so much love and joy to us all, each and every day.

Another thing I love about you-right-now is how you laugh when we change your clothes. You think it's hilarious when we pull a onesie up over your head! And I love how you look at art, like you're really evaluating and appreciating it.... And even though I joke about the country music thing, I do get a kick out of your defined musical taste. And a little more about your smile: when I smile at you, I love how you smile back at me with this twinkle in your eye, almost as if we're sharing a private joke, the best private joke ever.

And I'm sorry if it sounds like bragging (hey, that's my right as your mom)--but you are one beautiful baby boy. Seriously. Even strangers stop us to tell us so, and they also remark on how happy and smiley you are. An old lady stopped me in the supermarket the other day to say what a cute, happy baby you are. Of course I had to agree.

I love your perfect little eyebrows... Laurie calls them "painted-on" eyebrows. And I love how you arch/raise them sometimes when you are interacting with people. It's quite the sophisticated little look.

I love how you are getting really into your books, especially Pat the Bunny. It's sooooo sweet.

And I love how your siblings are responding to you. It's hard to express how much sweetness fills my heart when I see them interacting with you. Of course, I also love watching you and your dad together.

Well, I'd better go catch some zzzz ("Sleep when the baby sleeps", and all that). Your Uncle Metro and Barbara are here to visit you, and we're all going to Woodstock (the concert venue) tomorrow. Your daddy and I are excited to take you there--we went there last year on our anniversary, right around the time you first came into existence.

Anyway, thanks for being you, and for bringing me such boundless joy:-)

Love,

Mom

PS--a few photos of you over the last month:

With Lindsey at the tennis court

With big brother Brad

George reading to you on his bed

With Lindsey on the courts again, while we play

With Laurie, at the big party we had today to welcome Uncle Metro and Barbara to Binghamton

Baby Ben: Lover of the Arts

This baby is tuned into the arts, has preferences, and lets us know about them.

First of all, he hates a blank wall. From very, very soon after we brought him home from the hospital he has fixated on paintings or wall-hangings of various types. We have a painting above our bed that he loves to stare at, and will crane his neck to try to see until we turn him around and let him look right at it. He'll stare at it for very lengthy periods of time. I get an extra kick out of this because of the sentimental value of the painting; it's something my sister did many years ago, when I was still a kid, of the bedpost of my grandmother's bed:

He also loves the photograph of the mosaic on the floor in the San Marco cathedral in Venice that we have hanging over his changing table:

As soon as we set him down, he starts moving his head around so that he can see it better. And he doesn't just stare at these works of art--he actually "talks" to them and smiles at them and even laughs!


And whenever we take him into a new room or place, he immediately scans the walls for artwork. Friends' houses, the dentist's office, you name it--he wants to see the art. And if he doesn't find any to look at, he fusses a little bit, and gives us this look like, WTF? Where's the art, man?

Second, he has a definite musical taste. Of course I'm thrilled that he's so tuned into music. However, I'm not so sure about his genre of choice: country. It all started when he was in the womb. As I'm pretty sure I've mentioned, he'd go *nuts* in there every time I'd play Johnny Cash's Folsom Prison Blues with the band. (If you don't know it, it has a very driving rhythm, at least the way we play it. And it's one of the songs I play on guitar.) I couldn't really tell if he loved it or hated it, but it never failed to get a big reaction out of him, and I'd often have to try pretty hard not to crack up on stage. Band on the Run never got that kind of reaction out of him, or any of the other songs I play guitar on! You might think that perhaps he was gravitating toward what we had familiarized him with, but that's really not the case. That is the *only* country song we play, and we never played it all that often (I mean, we played it for every gig we had, but we played lots and lots of songs at our gigs. And it's not like we were working on this one and practicing it all the time, because it's a song we already had down long before he came along). So it was, and remains, a mystery why he responded so strongly to that song, every single time.


And he still loves it. The other night Bob and I were up in the man cave going over our set list for this gig; Ben slept through most of it. But at a certain point he woke up and was very fussy, so I held and fed him while singing/practicing the conga beats on my knees. Quite the multi-tasker, I know. Anyway, the one thing I couldn't do while holding him was play guitar, and we did have one song left that we hadn't gone over yet, which was--you guessed it--Folsom Prison. So I set him down his his bouncy seat and he immediately started to fuss, very actively. Not all-out-bawling, but on the verge. Well, as soon as we started strumming the first bar he stopped all fussing and was completely riveted. Spellbound, even. Staring at me and my guitar with this look of total wonder and awe. I was wishing I had a camera handy! It was amazing.

We have also discovered that he loves the soundtrack to Crazy Heart (a movie Bob and I loved and saw like 3 times... it's the only country record we own, and we bought it because we so admired the songwriting in the movie). If he gets fussy in the car, we put it on, and it placates him. We have to play it at a pretty high volume, though. And if we get sick of it and turn the volume down or, heaven forbid, put something else on, he'll let us know he's *not* ok with that. Even it seems like he's asleep. He'll wake right up and make it clear that we'd better crank that sucker back up again!


Bob has taken to calling him our little shit-kicker :-) And we're taking this as proof that God has a sense of humor, that rocker parents would end up with a baby who only has ears for country....

Ben and his Daddy

We had a great Father's Day. I wanted to make it extra special, since it's our first one with Ben. The rest of the kids were all with their other parents, so it was just the three of us, and we went to Skaneateles. It was an absolutely gorgeous day here in upstate NY--a day that could almost make you forget about the other seasons, and make a California girl actually *want* to live here. :-)

Anyway, we had lunch on the waterfront at the Bluewater Grill, which was great. The place gets mixed reviews online, but I've loved it every time I've been there. The food was delicious, the service was great, and the views were lovely.

After lunch we took a sightseeing cruise on the lake, which was so nice. We both really, really love the water. And then we strolled down the main street and looked in several stores before heading back home.

All-in-all it was a pretty much perfect day.

And on the occasion of Father's Day, I wanted to write a little bit about how bonded Ben is with his dad. It's pretty extraordinary. I've never seen anything like it. It's been like that from the day we brought him home from the hospital. He completely adores Bob, and seems utterly fascinated/compelled by him. He will just stare and stare, adoringly, at Bob's face. At less than two weeks old he smiled at Bob, and has been smiling at him ever since. (He does smile at other people, but with nowhere near the frequency he does with Bob.) When he's fussy, he'll calm right down on Bob's chest. When we put him on the bed between us, he finds a way to scooch himself over (he has done this from the beginning) and plaster himself next to Bob, and then he flails his little arms and legs around (batting at Bob) until Bob picks him up and puts him on his chest. Ben usually at that point puts his arms straight out to the sides, as if he's giving his daddy a giant hug. And then he promptly falls asleep. He has wanted me when he's hungry, but that's pretty much been it, and in fact if Bob could feed him I think he'd be happy never to leave Bob's side!

About 95% of the time, I think this is wonderful. Honestly, I was the one who was initially most enthusiastic about having another kid (though Bob was certainly on board), so it's been a beautiful thing to see this incredible bond between the two of them, and how much joy it brings Bob. We have even said that we kind of feel like Ben is here for Bob. Maybe that sounds weird, but if you could see it, you might know what I mean. He's certainly changing Bob's life in a huge way, because Bob has decided not to go back to teaching next year, but to stay home with him, which we're all really thrilled about. It's also just really nice to feel that this little being who needs so much doesn't need it all from me--it's great to be able to share the caregiving as well as the love.

But every once in a while I do get just a little jealous! Mostly after a marathon feeding session when he then wants to go to Bob, and will look up at him with this expression of satisfaction and gratitude, like "Wow, Dad, thanks for that great meal!" Humph! I think it would be at least a little more fair if Bob were the one who had to give up dairy!

Anyway, every day Ben is more and more alert, and he's getting more tuned into me as well, which I am enjoying. In fact, he's plastered right up against my side right this minute. So sweet.

A few pics of our day, and of Ben and his daddy:

In front of the Bluewater Grill

Inside, a primo window seat for Ben!

Itty, bitty, baby feet!!

Back in the car, for a quick feed and a cuddle

A gorgeous day out on the lake!

Drinky-poo on the boat

Cheers to you, Daddy!

More lovely lake views

"Judge Ben" has a nice ring to it

And now a few pictures of Ben enjoying his favorite spot (right next to, or on top of, Dada):

Giving dairy-free a go

The sweetest little baby in town has been having digestive discomfort. Pretty much from the get-go. He's so sweet and easygoing that he doesn't cry about it, but you can see that he's in discomfort quite often.

I gave up broccoli and onions and beans and such, but it wasn't having much effect. The doctor suggested trying Baby Mylicon, which we've been doing since Friday evening, but we haven't noticed much of an improvement. So, I decided it was time to bite the bullet and give up dairy to see if that makes a difference.

I don't know why I was resisting this so much; yes, cheese and yogurt are the staples of my diet. And the other day I bought some soy yogurt just to give it a try and I hated it. But yesterday when I was talking about it, George suggested I just replace cow cheese with goat cheese(s), and I felt both relieved (I really, really love cheese!) and stupid for having been so resistant to trying something that might make my baby feel better! Of course I'd do anything for him. What's doing without a little dairy for a while, especially when there really are so many alternatives?

So this morning, full of optimism and resolve, I headed to the most upscale grocery store in town (where I would find the biggest variety of non-dairy alternatives). I was feeling strong and brave, and decided to go with Ben but without Bob or George. For most of the trip, Ben slept peacefully in his car seat inside the grocery cart. But when I was nearly done, my baby-who-pretty-much-never-cries awoke with a start and began screaming his head off. Of course. What to do?

I could tell he was hungry. But I wasn't quite feeling brave enough to nurse him in the middle of the grocery store!

I opted to check out; I was pretty much done anyway. But I just couldn't leave him in his seat screaming his head off while I made my way across the entire store to the check-out, so I picked him up and held him, which definitely helped. The super-humanly loud screaming turned into mere fussing, much to my relief, but the downside was that he kept trying to suck on my neck whenever he got his mouth close enough! Plus it was very tricky to push the heavy cart with one hand while I held him with the other... but somehow I managed. Checking out with one hand was ok, but maneuvering the cart back across the uneven parking lot with one hand was another story. I really should have asked for some help with that from the employees. But you try thinking clearly when your baby is screaming in the middle of the grocery store.

When I got back to the car I quickly got everything unloaded from the cart, but wrenched something in my back in the process. UGH. I didn't fully throw out my back (which I have done many times in my life), but I'm taking it really, really easy; there's no telling if by tomorrow I'll be feeling fine or will be unable to move.

On a happier note, almond milk is delicious, as is raspberry-flavored soy yogurt!

Water Baby

Yesterday Ben was 3 weeks old, and we had a great trip to the doctor. He has put on almost two pounds since birth! And has grown nearly an inch. Way to go, Baby Ben!

I was also happy because I was afraid the doctor was going to say I should try giving up dairy, because Ben has been having some gas discomfort/issues--but instead she recommended trying some baby gas drops. Whew.

The other really exciting thing to come out of the appointment was that we got the go-ahead to take him into our pool or hot tub whenever we want. The doctor said that actually, the sooner the better, because he will still remember floating around in the womb, and he'll be very comfortable in the water if we do it now. (She didn't recommend doing it in a public pool, though.) I asked her about safety and she said just make sure we don't get drunk and forget to pay attention to the baby. Um, ok! I think we can handle that! She also said we should really always have two adults present, just in case. Also very do-able. She also suggested checking out teach-your-baby-to-swim sites online.

You might be surprised that we were eager to try this, given Ben's history with baths. What can I say; we like to live dangerously. (Plus, we had a pretty good swim diaper for him.) And wow, how much fun it was! He absolutely loved it. I got in first and Bob handed him to me; Bob stayed out in case he hated it and wanted to get out right away. We needn't have worried about that. I put his little tootsies in first, then his legs, and still no complaints, so then I held him close to me and put him in up to his waist. He was loving it.

I remember hearing something about how babies can be taught to float on their backs, so I put both hands under him and lowered him into the water on his back, being very attentive of course in case he started to squirm. But he didn't squirm; he totally relaxed. And got his little bath-time half-smile on. I had one hand under his head/neck, and he seemed to be floating so well that I actually took the other hand away, so I was just holding him up with the one hand, and he kept floating, beautifully! And calmly, and happily. It was kind of amazing. I was surprised that he was that buoyant. Bob and I took turns holding him that way, sharing his blissful relaxation.

At one point we decided to try letting go of his head to see if he could float without any assistance at all. He couldn't. He sank down right away. Of course we pulled him right back up! Such a calm little guy; he didn't even cry. He looked surprised but not freaked out. So we went back to the one-handed float.

We didn't stay in too terribly long; we didn't want him to get overheated or anything. And what a cooperative boy: he waited until the moment I got him out of there to fill his diaper! I would not have minded if he had waited until I had dried him off and gotten him out of his swim diaper and into a regular one, but hey, I'm *not* complaining. It was mighty sporting of him to wait as long as he did:-)

Later I did a quick search on YouTube and found out that what we were doing was actually pretty much the right way to teach a baby to float. Here's a very cool video of a young baby floating.

In any case, I think this all bodes very well for a summer of family swim time!

More Bath-time Mishaps

We've decided that Daddy is the bath-time jinx.

I've given Ben several uneventful baths since that famous first one. All without any, um, incidents whatsoever. Mostly with the help of big sis Lindsey.

But Lindsey wasn't around, and I thought Bob might like to try helping with another bath. After all, the last one we did together was so... memorable!

I lowered Ben into his little tub and right away he started to pee (which he really hasn't done since that first time). For a second I was trying to decide if it was worth changing the water right then, or maybe we should just change it quickly at the end... but then the little stream became a fountain that shot up and landed right in Ben's face! Crying bout number 1. No, I could not let that stand! So Bob lifted him up, and we concluded part 2 of the bath as quickly as possible, before any additional bodily functions could come into play.

While I was lifting Ben out of the bath, I noticed that Leo, one of our cats, was sort of running around by my feet where I was squatting. As I stood up to hand the baby off to Bob I looked down to make sure I didn't step on Leo, and what did I see but a little mouse scurrying under the bunched up bath mat!

I probably shrieked a bit as I told Bob to quick, give me back the baby and go after the mouse! He handed me Ben and I started backing up to get out of there and then the mouse, trying to evade Leo, scurried across my foot! Which made me jerk back, and bang poor little Ben's head into the wall!!! Crying bout number 2.

At that point Leo caught up with the mouse, grabbed it in his mouth, and headed up the stairs to the man cave. While Bob took off after them, I consoled and dried off my crying, but clean, little one. Whew.

I'm not even going to ask what's next!

For Sale, Cheap: Very Lightly Used Binky

I have just conducted a pacifier experiment. It failed miserably.

With George, I was pretty militantly anti-pacifier. I figured if he was fussing, he was hungry or needed to be changed or held, and I wasn't going to try to substitute a pacifier for any of those things. Plus, I had seen kids freak out when they dropped their pacifier on the ground, screaming and sobbing while their parents frantically washed (or just wiped, if there was no sink nearby) it off as quickly as they could--I kind of figured, why create a dependency like that? Then there was the matter of weaning them off of it when they hit a certain age, if they hadn't dropped the habit on their own. Plus, I had heard a vague theory that pediatric dentists were opposed to them. Honestly, it just all seemed like a bad idea to me.

The second time around I am, predictably, feeling a bit more relaxed about everything. My kid's nursery is in the bathroom, for crying out loud! (No, we don't make him sleep in there, as I'm sure I've mentioned.) What got me thinking about pacifiers this time was that Ben seems to have some gastrointestinal issues--I don't think it's anything serious, but he gets gassy sometimes and he also spits up a fair amount, at least compared to what George did. When Ben is obviously having gas pains, he often acts like he wants to nurse, even if he's just eaten a very full meal. He'll be all squirmy and fussy and will nurse furiously, only to spit most of it right back up. It seems that he wants the comfort more than the food. So in the interests of saving myself the trouble, I started looking into pacifiers.

The consensus among both my friends and most sources on the internet (see for example, the informative "Pacifiers: They don't suck as much as you thought") was that if used properly, pacifiers can be a perfectly legitimate parenting tool, even for parents who aren't planning on abandoning their baby all day in a playpen.

So off we went to Toys-R-Us, to get some more burp cloths (the 6 or 7 I had saved from when George was a baby just weren't enough for this one) and a "Mam" nuk, which had been recommended in particular for breastfed babies by a friend's pediatrician.

It was with slightly mixed feelings that I popped it into his mouth last night, after he was certainly fully fed but was still fussing a bit. I couldn't help feeling a bit like I was cheating, or taking the easy way out, but I pushed all of that aside.

At first he was happy to be getting something in his mouth, but his look of hopefulness soon turned to one of almost disgust as he realized it wasn't what he was expecting. Still, he didn't spit it out. And after probably about 30 seconds the look of disgust/confusion was gone and he was happily sucking away and drifting off to sleep. Score! I settled in myself for what was sure to be a long stretch of sleep.

Only it wasn't. I awoke to the sounds of his fussing and I saw that the pacifier had fallen out of his mouth. So now I'm thinking, am I creating a dependency here? But I was so sleepy I decided not to care, and put it back in. Same look of confusion and disgust on his part, but followed again very quickly by peaceful sucking and drifting back to sleep.

When I awoke to his fussing a couple of hours later, I figured it was feeding time again... and OW! OW! What did he think I was, a pacifier or something?! Clearly, yes. I soldiered on and finished the feeding, and when he was still fussing after over an hour of it, I went against my best judgment and tried the nuk again, hoping that this little chomping problem was just a fluke.

Well, it wasn't. And the rest of the night was quite miserable (for me, anyway).

So, alas, the great pacifier experiment has failed. Oh well; I did get one really nice two-hour stretch of sleeping--and later, a funny photo op--out of it.

Bath-time Adventures (etc.) with Baby Ben

Tomorrow Baby Ben will have been with us for two pretty amazing weeks. I have lots to say about him, but much of the time I'm trapped underneath him and can't reach the keyboard with both hands :-) My recovery has been slower than anticipated in some respects (I have not been in much pain at all--just very weak), but I'm not complaining, because there's really nowhere else I'd rather be than resting in bed with the sweetest little baby around.

In addition to being totally adorable, he's also very easygoing, which is *great*. He does not cry much at all, and he's a good sleeper, often sleeping for 3-hour stretches or even a little longer. Of course he makes up for those blocks of time by being very hungry afterwards, but that's all going pretty well, too.

I have to say that I'm finding everything a lot easier the second time around! George was a really good/happy baby, too, so it's not that. Well, it's partly that my life is a lot better now in some very important ways than it was 10 years ago. Everything was sort of crashing down around me when George was born: my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer the very day he was born; soon thereafter George's dad lost his job and it looked very much like I was going to lose mine, plus our relationship wasn't super stable; my physical recovery from the birth was slower and more painful than it should have been; I had a painful skin cancer in my ear.... So when, in those insanely difficult weeks (which stretched out into months), lightning struck a tree right in front of my house, knocking out power and phone lines to my house alone, well, you can see why I was feeling like the universe had it in for me! Ten years later, the story is quite different. I'm very happily married and stably employed, and everyone seems to be in good health (knock on wood)....

But on top of that, it's just easier having been through all of this before. The incredible changes that your body goes through, which I found so disconcerting last time (of course that was compounded by all of the uncertainty all around me); the lack of sleep; the sudden and almost total loss of any personal time and space (which you know about going into it, but you might not realize how overwhelming it can be); even things like having to inhale your own dinner in between baby feedings.... It's just so much easier to keep it all in perspective this time. Having been through it once I *know* these things don't last, and it makes it easier not to be overwhelmed by it all, and also to settle in and relish all of the good parts. Really, if I had known how much easier pretty much every aspect of this would be the second time around, I don't know if I would have waited 10 whole years to do it again!

Back to Baby Ben... We're convinced he's some sort of prodigy, because he turned himself over--back-to-front, no less--when he was two and a half days old. And he's almost smiling already... he came really close yesterday when he had his first bath (more on that in a minute), and it seriously looked like he smiled at Bob twice this evening. Plus, he gained over three ounces during his first week, when breast-fed babies are expected to lose 7-10% of their total weight; I'm feeling a bit proud of myself on that one!

On the less exciting side, he snores and doesn't seem to tolerate onions very well! Hoping that won't last.

So, his first bath was kind of classic. We have this little tub that has a sort of hammock built in to it (one of our cats seemed convinced it was his new cat bed). So we filled up the tub with warm water, and lowered Ben into it... and this look of wonder and rapture spread across his little face! It was so sweet. He seemed to be feeling such joy at having recovered the experience of being in water. He was, as I said, really almost smiling. He was so relaxed that--you guessed it--he peed. So, Bob lifted him up, I dumped out the bath and refilled it, and we started over again. Take two. And it happened again, right away. Ok, so same thing, we dump it out and start again; take three. We're thinking he ought to be good to go now. He's got the same rapturous look on his face. He opens his little mouth as if to smile, and... out comes the spit-up. A lot. Ok. So, Bob lifts him up again (and Ben really has to be wondering why we keep putting him in this wonderful warm water but then lifting him back up into the air!), I rinse and refill the tub; take four. We put him back in and now we're really sure he's good to go. I even take a minute to go get my camera, since we know we should be recording his first bath for posterity.

I start the recording, narrating how it's his first bath, and how we've had three mishaps but won't dwell on those because look-how-content-he-is-and-how-great-everything-is-going, and I'm zooming in on his adorable, happy little face when all of a sudden we hear... you guessed it again... the sound of a big ole baby poop being let loose. Oh noooooo! We laughed and laughed as we cleaned up and got ready for take 5, thinking about all the fun we'll have showing this video in the future if there ever should arise an occasion when we want to embarrass him ;-)

Our little water baby

Happy baby (and mama!)

All clean (whew), and all tuckered out