Kid Amnesiac

Man, we’ve seen a lot of babies this year. A lot. Literally. Like, if there were a vacant lot down the street and we all dropped our babies off there it would be really, really full. And then we’d all go to jail for child endangerment. But what I’m trying to get across is that our friends have had many, many babies in 2006, and this has probably been made all the more poignant by my and Jessica’s deciding to have our own.

So here, presented in chronological order, are the babies of 2006:

Thomas. First out the door this year was Thomas Alexander, born in late January. Thomas was not just the first baby of 2006, but he was also the first baby born in to our circle of San Francisco friends. His exploits (as documented at www.nijibaby.com) were eagerly followed by many of us, and probably kicked a few of us (and we know who we are) in the butt and reminded us that if we were really interested in doing this baby thing our mid-thirties might be the time to get on with it already! Thomas has made the most of 2006 with appearances all over Berkeley and the San Francisco Bay Area, as well as two trips abroad to visit his grandparents in the UK. Jessica was privileged enough to meet Thomas in February, and we both caught up with him as a three-month-old during a trip to San Francisco last May.

Fiona. Next up came Fiona Marie, born in early March. Fiona was born to Ann Arbor friends Tim and Cindy. Tim and Cindy got married one year before Matt and I did, putting us on a very similar schedule to start a family already. The one notable difference is that Fiona is Tim’s third child. We’re delighted that Fiona has her mother’s red hair, which we got to see in person during our June visit to Boston. We hope to get back soon, as Fiona seems to be in a hurry to grow up. Seriously. Kiddo started walking at 9 1/2 months. Sorry Tim and Cindy!

Gabriela. Gabriela Malka is my first cousin Connie’s first grandchild, born this March to my first cousin once removed Cara. Cara is only six years younger than I am, and I have fond memories of babysitting her when she was 6 or 7 and I was 12 or 13. Cara was such a cute kid that I’d basically go over to her house, play with her, stay up past my normal bedtime until Connie came home, and then get paid for it. Delightful! With the birth of Gabriela our family has officially “flipped” generations, as Simon is seven months younger than the cousin one branch down from him on the family tree. We got to introduce the two this Thanksgiving when Cara and her husband Jesse came up from Miami to spend the holiday with her grandparents, my Uncle Sam and Aunt Marcia.

Josephine. Matt’s co-worker Colin’s baby girl. He hasn’t been spotted playing World of Warcraft since she was born.

Kalyna. We were hoping Shawn and Yun’s baby would be the ugly breathtaking one, theorizing that someone had to have the ugly breathtaking baby and we didn’t want it to be us. But noooooooooo…. Kalyna Marie had to be the cutest baby ever, leaving us scared to death that our baby was going to be, um, less than handsome. She is also the best photographed baby of the bunch — Shawn and Yun really know how to use a camera.

Evan. Evan Samuel is Ann Arbor friend Bob and Chapel Hill friend Beth’s second child. We introduced Beth and Bob to each other at our wedding, and their first child, Andrew, was born three and a half years ago on our anniversary. Trippy, eh? Simon was almost born on Beth’s birthday, making the circle complete, but overshot by 13 hours and 48 minutes. Bummer. Evan came on July 4, thus relegating his original chosen name, Samuel, to the second slot for obvious reasons. Beth and Bob are in Durham, not far from where Beth and I first met in 1988. We hope to get the entire gang together this spring.

Lola. My colleague Sheri Cain was the first in my work circle to tell my boss she was pregnant. Karen, being a big fan of babies and motherhood, was of course thrilled for her. Shortly thereafter, Elizabeth got to call Karen and tell her that she was not only pregnant, but that she was even expecting twins (see below). Karen, being a big fan of babies and motherhood was of course thrilled for her. Shortly thereafter, I got to call Karen and tell her that I too was pregnant. Yup, three out of four women on her team all had babies within three months of each other, and I had to tell last. Karen, being a big fan of babies and motherhood, had the good grace to sound thrilled for me. Thanks Karen! For her part, Lola Lily was born in August and is flourishing up in a town by Indianapolis. I plan to see her soon, as she’s only a couple of hours from me.

Margot and Tatum. Twins! My colleague and good friend Elizabeth declared last Christmas that her fondest wish for 2006 was to start a family. Well, be careful what you ask for! The September arrival of identical twin girls Margot Louise and Tatum Caroline gave her an instant family. Last I talked to Elizabeth, she sounded every bit as tired as you would expect, but also deliriously happy. We can’t wait to meet these two cuties this spring when we travel to San Francisco to meet all the new Bay Area babies.

Ananya. Yet another colleague and friend, Anindo, became a Dad this September when his daughter Ananya, Nina for short, was born on September 11. Anindo does not work for Karen, so she was able to sound delighted about this addition to the Pearson family without wondering who was left to get some work done. In the picture I’ve seen of them together, Anindo looks exhausted but very happy, and Ananya looks suitably adorable. As an added bonus, Ananya’s bithday gives us all something positive to associate with an otherwise sad day. Anindo is also based in Indianapolis, so I hope to meet his new daughter soon as well.

Keira. Friends Ian and Christine’s new niece. Check out that awesome head of hair. Ian calls her “Ted Kopple”. What’s been cool about Keira (for us) has been getting to watch Ian and Christine interact with such an adorable baby, especially since they’re expecting their own sometime in 2007. Congratulations to parents Andrew and Jennifer!

Simon. Best baby of 2006, hands down. Super-adorable, extremely sociable and already demonstating genius-level learning abilities at week eleven. Puts himself to sleep at night with nary a whimper and stays down for hours, ensuring that baby and parents are fresh and ready for new adventures each morning. Practically changes his own diapers. Oh, did I mention he’s ours…?

William. We didn’t even know that William Cash was in the works, but when an email from Matt’s college pal Jason casually mentioned “going on minutes of sleep a day” we recognized the desperation of the new parent. Sure enough, he and his wife Tera had just had their first baby, and were diving deep, deep into the thrill of new-parenthood.

Colin. Simon’s new best friend thrilled his Mom and Dad by arriving three weeks before his original due date of Christmas Eve. So instead of being in the hospital or sitting around 9+ months pregnant this Christmas, they got to wake up every two-and-a-half hours to change poopy diapers, nurse and try to rock a crying baby to sleep. I’m sure it was worth the trade off. Colin’s Mom, Lucy, is an old high school friend of Jessica’s that got back in touch with us just a few months before we moved back to Louisville. Jessica and Lucy told each other they were pregnant on the same day, pretty much guaranteeing that the two babies would be built-in playmates. Colin Michael’s adventures can be tracked at his BabyBlog.

Whew! Fourteen babies in all. Almost hard to believe.

Watch for a similar post this time next year. Friends Ian and Chistine are due in April. Jessica’s former colleague and friend Chanda is also due in April. Jessica’s colleague and author Eric and Lisa are due in February. Jessica’s colleague Jen is due today and might already have a son. And several other babies are in the works but not yet publicly declared.

Just look at that baby in the cute sweater. Or is that the cute baby in the sweater? For sure, the turtleneck is not the most flattering look for those with short necks, double chins, and huge heads, but I still think Simon is doing a great job modeling his cool monogram cable sweater and hip jeans. It’s a very collegiate look.

The jeans are compliments of Claudia, my friend and old boss in the Hebrew publishing business. The sweater is compliments of me; I started knitting it around six weeks before Simon was born. Matt and I picked out the rust colored yarn because it’s gender neutral and looks reasonably good on both of us. I finished the sweater about three weeks before Simon was born, and while I considered embroidering a “W” on it for “Whitworth” or “Whozit” (Simon’s nickname in utero), I ultimately decided to wait until I knew if I had a little Audrey or Simon on my hands and embroider a first initial instead.

That was the plan anyway. But it turns out that “S” is hard to embroider on knitwear, and the combination of the “S” and the reddish color made it look like Superman decided to put on a sweater after it got nippy outside. Just no good at all. So after waiting all these weeks, we’re back at square one with the “W”.

Which, in retrospect, is perfect. Making this sweater was a joy because while I was knitting away I was dreaming about the baby I’d soon have. Now that he’s here, it’s sweet to look at the “W” on his chest and be transplanted back to that time of happy anticipation.

For the past 10 weeks, Simon has slept in a sweet little Moses basket. It was a gift from my Aunt Leona to my sister-in-law Stacy before the birth of her daughter Olivia. Olivia slept in it for several weeks, as did her sister Madeline, brother Benjamin, and cousin Samantha after her.

Once Simon came along, the basket was passed on to me and Simon got to be the fifth baby to slumber within. The first week or so, he slept in the basket between our heads at night and we carried him around inside it during the day. By around the two to three week mark, we were brave enough to move the basket to the foot of our bed at night, and Simon was moved around in it less during the day. Sometime after his first month, we moved him out of our room and started putting the basket inside his crib. At about that time we also quit taking the basket downstairs with us; the little stinkpot weighed so much I was afraid he’d break it.

This morning, Matt and I finally admitted that the basket is too small for Simon and we took it out of his crib. Normally, I’d greet such a milestone with a few tears and a lot of reminiscing. How’d he get so big so fast? That’s been the pattern thus far, anyway.

But you know what? Simon has been a happy baby for a week straight. And last week was better than the week before. Some days have been better than others, but we’ve yet to have a day that taxed us as much as some during weeks 3-8.

I think the little guy is feeling better. He smiles all the time, he makes crazy noises, and we’re still this close to a real laugh. We’ve also settled into something that resembles a schedule and are enjoying more awake time together each day. So I’m OK with this milestone. Bring it on, Simon! Just don’t outgrow your crib too soon, OK?

Boy, Simon had a great day today! He started off with some colossal sleeping. We put him down at 10:00 PM last night, intending to wake him for a scheduled feeding in an hour. I talked Jessica into going to sleep and waiting for him to wake us up, but that didn’t happen until 4:30 AM. It took some time to get him down after Breakfast, but I managed to get him out (and my own butt back into bed) by 6:00 AM. He then slept until 8:00 AM, and after Second Breakfast his busy day began in earnest.

First Simon helped Mom make her own breakfast by supervising from his Baby Papasan seat (carefully perched on the kitchen island). Then the two of them headed back upstairs and listened to the Diane Rehm Show on NPR during Elevenses. After that, Mom sang along with his new My Fair Lady soundtrack album while Simon did an interpretive dance.* All that singing and dancing required a nap before Luncheon, which was served promptly at 1:30 PM.

After that, we attended to Simon’s social calendar, going for a stroller walk down Bardstown Road and visiting Aunt Stacy and the Goldstein Cousins. You wouldn’t think their place would be great for a nap with all the kids running around, flipping out with their Christmas loot, but it did just fine for Simon, who only awoke late in the game to announce that it was time for Afternoon Tea. We rushed home and fed him just in time to avoid a fuss.

Having paid attention to all of Simon’s meals so far, Mom and Dad were famished. So we headed over to the new Cafe at Douglass Loop, where Simon took in a light snooze before posing for some ridiculously cute photos. Next it was back home for Dinner, a bath, an amazing nap and a late Supper. Whew! Barely time in a single day to fit in all those very important meals**.

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* Malcolm and Colin are posing with his new football while we’re singing show tunes with Simon. Jessica fears we’re making ourselves a little Bobby Hill.

** See The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring or this Wikipedia article.

After a fun Christmas Eve party at our house, in which Simon received many books, toys and even CD’s from his Grandparents, Aunt Barb, Uncle Dan and (unofficial) Auntie Jen, Simon saved the best present of all for his parents: six-and-a-half hours of sleep! That’s right — three-hundred and nintey minutes of uninterrupted pillowy bliss. I managed to get Simon to sleep shortly before midnight, fell asleep immediately myself (with the help of two Benedryl) and didn’t wake up until I heard him crying at around 6:30 AM.

It took a while to sink in, but this was the first time I had slept for more than five hours at a stretch since Simon had been born (exactly ten weeks ago today). I was so thrilled that, after helping burp him during his morning feeding, I promptly went back down for two more hours of Z’s. It was glorious.

Unfortunately, Jessica didn’t get to take full advantage of Simon’s precious gift of sleep. She woke up at 4:00 AM hearing phantom Simon noises* and had trouble falling back asleep. Bummer. Me, I loved it. Best Christmas ever.

UPDATE: Okay, I’ve just reviewed some earlier posts, and it seems that Simon has slept for longer than six-and-a-half hours before. However, since that particular sleep session started earlier in the night I can’t guarantee that I went to bed immediately and slept the exact same amount of time. Actually, I’m pretty sure I didn’t. I seem to remember bring really p.o.ed at the time that I hadn’t gone to bed earlier. Still, my comment about not having slept more than five hours at a stretch might not be completely accurate — but it was indeed a rare, blessed occasion.

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* We both hear phantom Simon noises all the time. It’s partly just weird parent-baby imprinting and partly the fact that we have extremely loud white noise generators running whenever he’s asleep.

It’s Christmas Day, and Simon’s arrival has put a decidedly new spin on things.

Like most Jews that I know, I have a complicated history with the holiday. As a kid, I loved that it got me out school for two weeks, but didn’t always relish standing out from the crowd. And believe me, when you are cast as the dreidel that shows up for a two-minute cameo performance in the school Christmas play, you stand out.

By the time I hit my teens or so, I entered a more bitter phase. I was sick of the two-month buildup to the holiday and found Christmas Day itself to be a lot like house arrest: nowhere to go and nothing to do other than hit a Chinese restaurant and bump into all the other bored Jews in the city.

When I went off to college, I began spending Christmas with dear friends and their families and got into the season. It still wasn’t my holiday, but it was a good time. It’s hard to resist pretty evergreen decorations, almond and cranberry studded bread, eggnog, classic carols, cheery midwinter lights, and thoughtful presents. So why try? Instead, I began celebrating Christmas as a bystander, enjoying it while maintaining a safe emotional distance.

Now I have a son with Christian grandparents and my relationship with Christmas is about to get much more intimate. I can’t just let my inlaws do everything–if we’re going to celebrate Christmas as a family, then the Matthew G. Whitworth portion of the family had better step up to the plate and start co-hosting the festivities. And I’m not leaving it all up to Matt, either. I have opinions about trees, decorations, and menus. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it my way!

Last night was my first forray into the holiday, as we hosted Christmas Eve dessert and present opening. Everything I served was store-bought, which isn’t much fun, but I got out my china and tried to make things look festive. Next year I won’t have an infant in the house and will be able to do it up proper. Next year I will also have a tree, for which I have three brand new ornaments.

So what did Santa bring me last night? So glad you asked. I got a new light fixture for my dining room, a lit mirror that I needed desperately, a wearable blanket, a knitting book…

…and a beautiful menorah.

Merry Christmas!

As I grabbed what seemed like an entire fistful of hair that had fallen out of my head this morning, I began thinking about pregnancy’s under-advertised upsides. For many women, your hair and skin never looks better than while you are pregnant, and for me this was certainly true. For the first time since I was about 13, my complexion was bright and blemish free. And my hair, always thick, became even thicker as normal shedding ceased.

But more than that, I understand in hindsight that pregnancy is a glorious time for those of us who have a self-involved streak. Everyone asks about you all the time. Friends, family, coworkers… your husband’s friends, family, and coworkers. Even random and well meaning strangers. Plus, it’s the only time in you life when the expected answer to the question “How are you?” is not a short and simple “fine, thanks.”

Quite the opposite, people want details. How are you sleeping? How much weight have you gained? Do you feel OK? Can you still wear your shoes? When’s your next appointment? As I had a gloriously easy pregnancy, this was all quite fun. I had a little insomnia early and late in the game, but other than that suffered no ill effects from being in the family way. And who wouldn’t enjoy being the center of so much attention? Certainly not I.

The danger is that you get used to this, and then suddenly all that attention goes elsewhere. Specifically, it goes to the baby. The first two weeks or so after delivery, you can still be pretty self-centered, as people still ask a bevvy of questions. How are you recovering? How was labor? Are you sleeping OK? How much weight have you lost? Can you wear your old shoes again?

Then, right around the time you get your six-week checkup at the OBGYN’s, all this attention dries up and it’s all about the baby all the time. I have actually been greeted by family members with a simple “Where’s Simon?” if I walk in the door first and Matt is behind with the baby.

As an added insult, this deflection of interest happens right about the time that all that hair you didn’t shed for nine months comes falling out, your borrowed glowing skin recedes to whatever you normally have (Hello ProActiv!), and what was once a taut midriff that blossomed into a cute “baby bump” has become a sloppy affair with and extra inch or two of loose skin.

Then again, it can also be a relief to pass the attention baton. The more people are interested in the baby, the less they are likely to notice the aforementioned blotchy skin, thinning hair, and thick waistline. And frankly, after a few weeks my own well being is so inextricably tied to Simon that I tend to answer all queries in relation to him anyway. “How are you?” is answered with either “Great. Simon’s in a good mood today” or “Ugh. Simon’s been so fussy.”

Funnily enough, many of the questions people ask about Simon are the same as those people used to have for me. When’s his next appointment? How much weight has he gained? How’s he sleeping? Is he eating OK?

I’ve been telling Simon to relish this attention while he can, because soon enough another baby will be born into our circle of family and friends and he, too, will have to take a backseat. How will he cope? I’m not sure. But he can always start blogging…

I learned a new expression from my sister-in-law Stacy yesterday: “It’s easy to heckle from the cheap seats,” meaning roughly that it’s easy to criticize from a distance, be it physical or emotional. She used it in the context of those who judge the parenting of others when they are not parents themselves.

I’ve been a heckler myself in the past. “Who are these crazy women,” I wondered, “who cry when their kids get shots? It doesn’t hurt that much, the kid will never remember it, and a shot sure beats polio.” I thought the same thing about women who cried when their kids went off to school. As my mom would say, “No no. You cry if for some reason they can’t go off to school. That’s when something is really wrong.”

Well, I’ve had my comeuppance because it turns out I’m one of those crazy women. Simon went to the pediatrician yesterday for his two-month (two month!) check-up and got three shots while he was there. He cried when he got them, and like an absolute lunatic I cried along with him.

In my defense, Simon was coming off a very bad previous day in which he had trouble with his reflux and had gas pains that kept him from feeding or sleeping well. So I was a little strung out and overly worried about my little boy when the technician showed up with the needle. I wanted to come back another day. I wanted the vaccines to be oral. I wanted to be able to take them myself. Anything. I just didn’t want Simon to have to cry or be unhappy any more.

Having been so humbled I will be slower to pass judgment on other lunatic mothers who cry at things I don’t understand. I feel your pain, lunatic moms of the world. Now that I’ve scored courtside seats for the parenthood game I think I’ll keep my mouth shut.

On the medical front, Simon will be going on Reglan for his reflux as soon as Matt and I reluctantly fill the prescription. We had hoped that Zantac and Mylanta would keep things in check, as Reglan can have some unpleasant side effects. But Simon’s spitting up is excessive, and the pediatrician (and Bubbie) thinks we need to curb it.

His spitting up is not so excessive that it is preventing growth, however. Yesterday Simon weighed in at 11 1/2 pounds, measured 22 1/2 inches long, and now has a head circumference of 16 1/8 inches. Amusingly, that puts him in the 50th percentile for weight, the 25th for height, and the 75th for head size. Doesn’t that sound frighfully like Napoleon or Danny DeVito? Before you answer, just remember, it’s easy to heckle from the cheap seats.

Yesterday was Simon’s first Chanukah party and his two-month birthday. The party was at my mom’s house and included all four nieces and nephews, who each had a present for Simon. He got Spiderman pajamas from his Spiderman-obsessed cousin Ben (age 4), socks knitted by his crafty cousin Olivia (age 8), and a book that plays music from musically-minded Maddie (age almost 6).

It was adorable, and Simon chose this occasion to be the most awake and happy I’ve ever seen him. He smiled right on through all the chaos of present opening, seemed duly appreciative of his stash, was stoic about missing out on the latkes, and was perfectly happy to be held by the entire family, including Olivia and Madeline.

After several hours of this he had the inevitable breakdown, but it was nothing a trip home, a quiet nurse, and a little dancing couldn’t take care of quickly. He then slept for a five-hour stretch. Good baby!

This morning he’s resting up because his second Chanukah party is about to begin in about two hours over at Zadie and Nana’s house. If he’s half as awake and happy it will be a smashing success.

Based on results from a small, unscientific poll, I have decided that mothers must have ears that rival those of bats or a post-surgery Jaime Sommers.

While Matt can happily snore on, I hear every sound Simon makes at night. I will wake up when he sneezes, wake up when he coughs, wake up when he snorts, and wake up for his pre-cry whimpers. It’s crazy.

And it reminds me of an essay I read years ago in a German class about “der angst” of the small animals, the gist of which is that mice and rabbits sleep lightly, and then for only a few minutes at a stretch, lest they be swept up by a predator before trying to escape. I now look at the rabbits in my back yard with much more sympathy. They must be so tired all the time!

My super-light sleeping also reminds me of a favorite family story. Years ago, before my brother Perry was of drinking age, he came home in the wee hours of the morning with a friend. They had pizza and beer, and as they carried their snack into the basement, two bottles made the tiniest of clicks as they touched each other.

This should not have been cause for alarm. And yet my mother–a woman who can sleep through trains and did sleep through the evening news and the 11:30 rerun of MASH every night when I was in high school–immediately awoke and asked, “Perry, are you with Joey? Do you have beer with you?” And there poor Perry was, pizza in hand, busted by a sound that no normal waking human would ever hear–much less a sleeping one.

I now understand whence come the bionic ears. It’s a mother thing that my mom hung on to for an extra 44 years or so. Which is kinda cool, except it means I may be sleeping like mice and rabbits for the rest of my life while Matt snores on.