Thursday, August 28, 2008

Newsletter: Month 11

Dear JB,



Today you are 11 months old.



We are astounded. We cannot believe that there are only 4 more weeks until we are expected to pull together a clever, special, over-the top-exciting-yet-understated FIRST birthday party for you!!! Like most of the events of your life so far, we feel un-prepared. But we feel so excited for this milestone and of course, we feel impressed that you seem to be thriving.



Your mommies are in the middle of watching the Democratic National Convention where Barack Obama is about to accept the nomination for president of the United States. At this point, we have no idea if this is a name and a night that will go down in history, or if it will only end up being a historical footnote or the answer to an obscure trivia question. The election is not until November, but there have been more than a few times this week when I have stopped to reflect. I've wept some tears of pride and amazement, and cautious excitement. My feelings about this election are very closely related to you and what this means for you... You will never know how extraordinary it is that this man should be in line to be elected president. Because of what is happening tonight, sweet boy, you will never completely understand why this is even touching. It will be passe to you and your friends... nothing spec'... You will never fully grasp how improbable this was even a year ago.



You are growing, and our society is growing too. And for that we are grateful.



This month has been amazing. Not only because you didn't even get one ear infection (can I get a Hallelujah?!?) but also because we got a well deserved beach vacation together. When we were at the beach with your cousins, aunt, uncle, and grandparents, we experienced the beach as if for the first time through your eyes... You didn't like the sand too much. You sat with both arms up and usually your left leg up off of the grainy stuff. You might not have minded the ocean, but the temperature was not to your liking. You reacted to the ocean's unwelcoming chill not by screaming in protest (though there were a few tears at times) but by clinging tightly to whoever was taking you into the big drink. They were the best hugs to be found on the shore that week, and your mommies encouraged any family members who were interested to experience the baby python hugs the ocean brought out in you.



Even though you didn't seem as enthralled with the sand and cool ocean, you were pretty zen and spent a lot of time napping in your stroller while we played and rested on the beach. You slept well in the pack and play and didn't seem to have any difficulty with the change in schedule or setting. When we brought you back to day care, your teacher really had missed you and you gave her a big huge hug- which made your mommies feel very happy and proud.





Out of Nana and Papa's 3 grandkids, you seem to be the most cuddly and most eager to find a shoulder to rest your head on. You like to weave your fingers around anything soft, and that includes wisps of hair you find on our necks, ear lobes, and/or shirt collars. You can be twitchy and fidget out of our arms when you decide you don't want to be be held, but this is the first month that you really started exhibiting the signs of begging to be held - as you get tired, you can get whiny and will cry until we pick you up. It's hard to complain about that at all, but "i need my mama/mommy-mania" is a change from the JB that we could sit on the floor to entertain himself when we needed to straighten up something in the next room.



You are exceedingly mobile now. You are not the newly crawling JB of month 10... You are not really doing anything new from last month, but you are so much stronger and faster. You can get across the room without difficulty and before we can blink. You troubleshoot barriers and navigate pillows and furniture I throw into your path to slow you down. When you want to pull yourself up, you lunge at the couch or table. With your arms higher than your head, you take the form of an athlete about to do a pull up: Standing seems to be much more about your arm strength than your legs at this point. Watching you get vertical has made me want to take you outside to see if you can hang from a branch without my help. (Confession: I have tried this, but you are not that strong yet... I think if your hands were a little tougher, you could really do it though, b/c your arms are that strong... but the bark is a little tough and your hands too small to grip like that. I guess this is why there are no infant body builders in the world.)





You are crawling, creeping, bouldering, and lunging from sofa to sofa on your feet. You won't walk without holding on to something, but often, one of our fingers is enough. You are pretty daring, but when you decide something is too far away, you sit yourself back down without incident and crawl there like a lightening bolt.



You now have 4 teeth. The 2 upper teeth are so huge they look like a couple of pieces of white gravel embedded in your gum. "That shit must'a hurt," we keep thinking to ourselves. You had a few cranky days right before they appeared and now if you have a few minutes of discontent, your moms keep expecting the snow capped rockies to pop through your gums next. We employ the ever-useful, rarely-provable, "maybe he's teething" EVEN MORE than we did before. (Read: every time you so much as whimper.) The thing about these teeth, is I guess it will be years before they all come in. So I guess that "life is pain" lesson I was planning on teaching you is all ready underway...



Your moms are finally starting to get serious about giving you table food options. It's not that you weren't watching every morsel of food go from our plates into our mouths, giving us the signal that you were "ready"... It's not that we haven't been buying little lumps, clumps and clusters of organic veggies and meats to cook up for you... It's that we were not quite ready to put the take-out containers down and start eating food that that hasn't been genetically altered by a fry-alator. (And trust me, if we weren't going to feed you the organic food that we left rotting in the 'frige, then we certainly weren't going to mince our over-salted, tempura, bacon, guacamole burgers to give you bits and bites of coronary artery disease).



So, now, we are finally figuring out how to provide for your expanding culinary needs- you've gotten carrots, cukes, all sorts of beans, avocado, chicken, steak, eggs, cheese, blueberries, mangoes, bananas, apples, grapes, and peaches (and probably others that I can't remember). You are very eager to feed yourself and try just about anything. You generally swallow well and explore many different textures of food. You are a little cookie-monster, though, a lot of the food goes in and comes out of your mouth - maybe only a third of it gets down your esophagus. We are trying to calculate exactly how we are going to substitute sippy cups of milk for your regular bottles of formula; suggested at 1 year of age. Right now, a sippy cup means "water" to you, and a bottle means "milk".



We are trying to do some basic signing: bath, milk, bottle/drink, diaper, more, all done. You definitely understand a lot of what we say to you. If we tell you to put something into something, you usually do. And if we tell you to "drum" you do. If we ask you where your planets are, you look up above your crib and wave at your mobile. If we ask for a kiss or a hug, you often oblige us. On occasion, if I put 3 objects out (say a duckie, a block, and a ball) you will reach for the one I said (though it hasn't happened with tremendous consistency.) If we say "come here" or "stop" or "don't touch that" you ignore us as if we are speaking another language.



Your play is very cute. You LOVE putting things in and taking things out and opening things and closing things. You have stacking boxes that have been a favorite for a few months now, but you can play with these things for hours. Not usually stacking, but "putting in" and "taking out". Also, doors- you will play with the front door for 20 minutes at a clip- trying to figure out how to shut it when you are sitting in the way of its shutting; and when you've finally shut it, reversing the process. You now have an old, defunct cell phone to keep our old TiVo remote control company in your toy box. No matter what we tried, you would ignore all toys if our real remote or phones were in sight. You prefer electronics to any and all plastic imitators.



You have shown yourself to be tough and sensitive. The toilet bowl seat fell onto your hand and nary a peep out of you. You turned your hand over a few times looking at the palm and then the knuckles as if to say, "Hmm, that was strange." But when a stuffed penguin "snuck up on you," all hell broke loose. The animal/toy scared the wits out of you and it took a couple of us 10 minutes to calm you down. We might have chalked this up to fatigue if it wasn't the 3rd time a stuffed animal unexpectedly brushed against your skin and brought on a wave of tears or screaming.



Sometimes you cry out in your sleep, and though you do not wake, we rush in and are forced to contemplate what has upset you so. I'd put money on you dreaming about getting your ass kicked at a Gund store. But your mama thinks it is all about the ice pick shaped tusks poking through the roof of your mouth. It is a little upsetting that you might be experiencing bad dreams. Symbolic to us that already, there are things we cannot help with or protect you from. But we feel incredibly lucky to be the ones watching over you; brushing our hands over your forehead and back, reassuring you that you we are here and you are loved.



We love you,
Your mommies

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

The state of the union

I'm up way past my bedtime, but I think it needs to be said:

I just can't fucking believe the excitement that I feel about B.Obama running for president. This is momentous. This changes everything. The visual image of the Obamas on this stage in this context is the very definition of progress to me. Whether people like it or not, there has never been a visual image for non-white people that "you can go where ever you want to go..." these conventions are usually so ideologically and physically segregated. This guy can change all of that. I would never base my vote on a person's race, but it is very exciting that the 44th president of the United States might very well be a different color than the other 43 heads of state.
Please God, let it be so...

Oh, and Joe Biden's mother is just about the cutest thing I have ever seen.

(Check out the footage of Ma Biden from about the 2:40 mark to about the 6 minute mark...)

Finger food 2

The kid is totally getting how to feed himself. A week ago, he couldn't really bring bites into his mouth. This week in the mornings, he has had scrambled eggs, and mango. Dinners have included avocado, chicken, blueberries, mangoes, broccoli... Tomorrow, I may make him french toast.

What our electrical gadgets are trying to tell us

If you looked at our DVR, you might conclude that DNC convention is part of the Olympics. For the last several weeks, we have recorded hours of Olympic events every night- some still remaining on the "My recorded programs" menu. For the last few nights, we have recorded hours of political coverage. The Democratic nominating convention is my idea of sport. ("Sports" are Katy's idea of sport.) I cannot handle the din of the crowd broadcast during live sporting events. Katy cannot handle the talking heads broadcast during political events. She also cannot handle Hillary supporters who will not "let it go" or the media lug-heads who constantly remind us of those supporters' existence. I'm kind of like, "Everyone's got a right to their opinion- even those Floridians that voted for Ralph Nader in 2004 and 2000."

Every time we put our ipod on shuffle this week, chapters from The Audacity of Hope spontaneously start playing. Katy: Do you think our ipod is trying to tell us something???

Monday, August 25, 2008

You call that a sport?

The endless hours of commentary that fill the endless hours of the Democratic National Convention might break my heart. I can't take it. So, to help the intense suffering, I say over and over to the TV and to noone in particular something like this... "GET OVER IT! SHE'S NOT THE NOMINEE! WHY DO THEY KEEP TALKING ABOUT THIS?! STOP! Oh. Please. stop." To which Tracy replies... "Honey, they're just trying to fill the hours of time between speakers that anyone wants to hear."

This conversation goes on and on. And on. The only bright light is Rachel Maddow.

Tracy makes fun of me for my sports addiction (I admit it, it is an addiction). But let me say this: she watches Rachel Maddow as if Rachel herself was a sport.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

Finger food

I think I'm gonna journal about JB's diet for a while.

While we were away, following my sister's lead with CamCam, we really started giving the boy some bits of food. Meals are about to get messy and take much LONGER as we stop just spooning the goo into his head and allow him to feed his-self with his uncoordinated but adorably pudgy paws.

I guess we are supposed to pay attention and add new foods in an organized way so that in case any allergies or bad reactions surface, we know what caused 'um... but my memory being what it is right now, I know I will have to rely on the blog. So, you will have to endure some of the details.

Today, after he ate breakfast, KT warmed up some of Nana's pasta and sauce (YES, we eat Nana's leftover pasta and sauce for breakfast). JB didn't like it one bit that she was eating in front of him, and so she offered him little bites. Tasting the beloved tomato sauce for the first time, he opened his mouth WIDE for more. She make him use his new top choppers to bite off little bits of the penne, and it was CuTe!!!

Tonight I poached chicken in basil, onion, garlic, parsley, and curry. I cut it up into 1/2 cm squares and did the same with a few slices of avecado. He didn't appreciate it one bit that i tried to hide it in his rice cereal and cried and cried. But when his g'pa put some bits on the tray, he was mighty interested in feeding himself. He is not terribly good at picking up slippery stuff or finding his mouth, but showed a lot of improvement tonight even over his attempts a few days ago.

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Friends in high places

Obama texted me this am to tell me he had chosen Joe Biden as his running mate...
I don't know what would have excited me, but this seemed like boring news.

Our summer vacation 2008 a.k.a. "My aching back"

For the past 3 summers, we we've gotten to the beach, courtesy of my parents. When the Mac attack was born, (March 2006) my mom was the pre-daycare for the summer months. (She's a teacher.) When Mom and Dad planned a week away, she offered to take the baby with her to hold up her end of the deal. My sister was like, "Effe that." It was hard enough for her to be away from her baby during the working hours, let alone all day AND all night for a week. "If I have to take a week off from work to be mommy day care, I may as well do it at the beach," she thought, and accepted my parent's invitation to vacation with them. When I got wind of this, I was all "Effe. That!" I wanted to be there when Mac ate her first clumps of sand, and I wanted to enjoy a few sand clumps and nosefuls of salt water myself.

Last year, my sister and I were a combined 16 months pregnant during the "family beach vacation." I kind of thought that would give us a pass from all of the lugging, tugging, carting, and carrying. But my sister looked around and saw delays in her mental schedule if she and I were not participating in Sherpa duties. So, because of her, my notions of opting out of manual labor, walking to the beach carrying nothing but my flip flops, and using the growing bean as an excuse were destroyed. When I looked around and saw her resting her 25 lb kid on her 33 week pregnancy bump while carrying a full beach bag that the kid could have fit into on one shoulder, and 2 folding chairs on the other shoulder, I hoisted the cooler onto my shoulder and grabbed the other enormous beach bag and waddled my third trimester self through the sand.

This year, sadly, we were down a grandma at the beach, but with two new babies, we needed additional strollers and gear. It's not the heavy lifting that breaks you. (Though my knees want to make their opinion known that "heavy lifting" doesn't make their lives any easier.) It's the un-natural 45 degree bend you end up keeping your back in for hours when you're dealing with people who are 2 feet tall and who either can't stand up, or can't be trusted not to fall over. I use my knees, I squat, I try for better body mechanics, but that back-straining bend is unrelenting.

But I'll tell you what... back ache, nothing. This week's weather was probably the best week of the year. I don't know what it felt like inland, but out there by the sea, perfection: Hot, sunny, clear, 80 degrees plus, but feeling much cooler with the breeze. The weather was perfect every day. The one storm they threatened didn't materialize except for a few hours of rain at night. My friend the ocean was clear and refreshing. The grands were saviors in terms of keeping us outnumbering the kids. And the kids... Good Lord the kids were just fun and amazing and they really enjoyed each other. While we were away, JB cut his 2 top teeth, finally waved, and grew in ways I can't explain except to say, "right before our eyes." Somehow, he definitely seems like he's about to turn one and I couldn't say that last week.

More stories to come, but it was a wonderful week away. (Hat tip to Nana and Papa)

Saturday, August 16, 2008

More fun tricks

More olympics and other tales of huge teeth

To bring up some other of my Olympic concerns:

1) Dara Torres - also a swimmer I would love to just love and not mock. BUT, I am not strong enough. Though, I am not worthy to carry the 41 year old's shammy cloth around in terms of her strength, fitness, over-all greatness, and champion stature, mock her I will. Oh, I will... even if I am short of breath from walking up one flight of stairs while carrying a milkshake to read about her new world record on "the intrenets". Thing is:
You can come out of the closest, Dara...
And people will still like you.
Look at Ellen and Portia!
It is 2008!
Go win your 3700th gold medal, or whatever, and then go get yourself a Lady-friend. Someone as strong on land as you are in the pool- who won't let you stay closeted. Together, you can raise the daughter you worked so hard with that "reproductive endocrinologist" partner of yours to create.

2) Synchronized diving. That's it. I don't have much else to say except W.T.F.
This sport is obviously very difficult, but it cannot be as difficult to compete as it is to watch. Just awful. Boring and weird and bizarre. And will that female commentator just please just shut her annoying #@%$ pie-hole. How did she get this job? Why is this so painful to watch? Let's be honest, it is mostly because of her inconsistent, nasally, inaccurate, allegedly-expert, banter. It looks like others agree.

I'm sure there will be more, but I will leave you with some personal updates: This week, JB had these enormous 2 top teeth finally poke through. They are about 1/2 the size of his head. No wonder he's been a little "not himself".

We are still kind of "stinky" and I think we have decided to throw away both the rug that is in our basement and the one in the garage (it was kind of weird to keep that rug in the garage anyway, but it was a nice touch for last year's Kate-a-palooza*). We thought all the wet-vaccing and some heavy duty cleaners would work to decrease the stink, but because of the timing and our lack of Olympic-sized commitment to the pursuit of wet-vaccing 5 days a week post storm, this is likely the most effective path.

We are going on vacation. I don't know the computer situation. I hope there is access, but blog posts will probably not be that frequent.

*The party-title "Kate-a-palooza" was just a cheep knock off of "Bill-a-palooza"... Even though that event was a cheep knock off of "Mitch-a-palooza", my sister keeps insisting on a foot note.

Shark




I know I shouldn't say this as we are about to visit the beach, but Michael Phelps has more teeth than any water creature I've ever seen...

I want to love and respect him in a pure, unadulterated way like the rest of America, but I am afraid he will chomp thru the TV screen and tear away at my limbs and flesh. I'm sure training to be the best swimmer in the world and perhaps the most winning-est Olympiad ever- all before the tender age of 24 has kept him busy... But really? No time for an orthodontist appointment? Or just a quick tooth extraction to give his chiseled jaw a break? I would think Nik.e would make this endeavor worth his while... god forbid he goes nuts at a photo shoot and breaks through the Plexiglas and snacks on all the photographers and commercial production staff.



Seriously. This guy is unbelievable. And he seems so nice. Obviously I'm kidding about taking some of his teeth out- It would probably cause him to lose some of his superpowers- not worth the risk AT.ALL.

I'm sure there's several rows of choppers in there anyway...

Speaking of the Olympics, I might not have mentioned that I'm living with an addict. Katy has watched all or part of the Beijing opening ceremonies three times. If we did not own a DVR, we would have had to purchase one for this televised event. There are like 40 channels and round the clock coverage. For the prime time footage, she makes herself wait to give the live coverage an hour or two head start and watches in a staccato frenzy of 10 second fast forward. I can't even follow the action via this method and can't figure out whose winning or losing. But she can some how still absorb the billions of factoids and background trivia surrounding the athletes and games:

T: Those unitard-suits look so silly
K: Those are Speed.o's New LZR ("laser") racer suits. That's the Bodyskin model... That's the Legskin model... Micheal Phelps was allowed by Nik.e to wear non-swish apparel because this is the fastest suit ever invented and the technology is patented.
T: (trying not to mock her geekish retention of Olympic facts for the 700 millionth and 1st time in a week) Is it really more comfortable to swim with all of that on? Why don't they just wrap themselves in some parachute nylon and a down comforter.
K: (not amused or even distracted from her 10 second, fast forward, remote controlled, games surfing) The elastane-nylon and polyurethane - Gore-tex allows for better oxygen flow to the muscles, and holds the body in a more hydrodynamic position, while repelling water. The seams of the suit are ultrasonically welded to further reduce drag. (She states sounding like a wikepedia entry.)
T: It doesn't bother you that that gore tex might get all tangled up in his teeth?
K: (no response)
T: Like a turtle caught in one of those plastic rings that hold six-packs of soda together?
K: (Watching the TV intently)
T: He COULD DIE!!!
K: (nothing)
T: WHAT ABOUT THE LITTLE CHILDREN?!?
K: (Hitting the fast forward button like she is playing a video game, ignoring non-essential, non-olympic noises...)
T: I think these suits should be banned.
K: (Speaking as if more trivia will shut me up) The suit can lower racing times by 1.9 to 2.2 percent...
T: Textile Doping- I'm surprised the cyclists haven't started eating these suits yet.

Monday, August 11, 2008

Life in a loop

It's been a rough few days.
We are physically and emotionally exhusted.
Our house is "drying out" and the rugs in the basement and garage are stinky.
The baby is cranky- which always makes us worried that he is sick.
Tonight he had a meltdown in the tub and cried though me trying to dress him.
Then he couldn't get enough milk but kept popping off the bottle for some reason. Then he cried and coughed until he threw up 3 times (twice on me and once on katy). I don't know what his deal is- it seems like one of those top teeth are trying to come in. Or we went to the generic brand of formula, maybe he's a name-brand kid worrying about growing up poor? Or perhaps he's just tired.

Me too.

If you're reading, birthday twin, you are on our mind, and in our thoughts and you are loved!

Sunday, August 10, 2008

"10 months" seems like a long time ago

So, even if we don't finish the newsletter on time, we always start them on the 28th. (If we have any say in the matter at all...)

Therefore, when we do post it, it shows up only in the archives unless you follow on a blogfeed/reader of some kind. So, if you want to read the newsletter, it's here. Sorry it is late, but like JB'll ever know.

Saturday, August 09, 2008

Our basement flooded. It likely has something to do with not cleaning the gutters for several years. Oh yeah, and from all the rain we've been getting too. What a mess. It gives a whole new meaning to "1/2 finished basement."

Also, today (well, now, yesterday...) my birthday twin had a miscarriage. Will write more about it later, but it is very sad and very, very... well, sad.

In other parts of the world, the Olympics opened in Beijing. Katy is an Olympics addict. She is thrilled and plans to DVR the games day and night. I am amazed by her tenacity and the picayune details she has managed to memorize about the competitions and the athletes.

Thursday, August 07, 2008

Tuesday, August 05, 2008

As Tracy mentioned, we had a great time at T&T's with I&R - we met in grad school, and then I, T, and I all happened to land our first jobs in a relative pit of a health center. I could not have survived without them!

And now, we're all procreating like crazy (see adorable R below - she love love LOVES the camera!).






Sunday, August 03, 2008

Solid weekend

We were around for most of the weekend and that meant a lot of stuff got done.

I just finished making some dinners for the boy and for the mommies to get the week off to a good start. Today we went to church; drove to hippie-lesbo-ville to visit some friends; had a great lunch bbq, helped Dr. T move into her new apt; and very nearly got to golf (couldn't quite be in 3 places at once...)

Yesterday, we puttered and shopped a little. I got down on my hands and knees and scrubbed the kitchen floor tile by tile linoleum square by linoleum square with a sponge. It was awesome in it's filth! Then we got take out Indian food yumyum yum-yum.

Saturday, August 02, 2008

When toys imitate your worst fears

KT: JB, do you want to come downstairs and do laundry with Mama?

T: That sounds fun! (answering for an as-of-yet nonverbal JB)

KT: You can play with the caterpillar!

T: (looking a bit green) What?

KT: Don't worry honey, it's big and plastic and green and sings the ABCs