Weightless

I’ve started counting calories. I figure I can Weight Watchers myself for free if I just do it. I’m not trying to actually cut calories right now, just get a feel for what my average intake is. But since I only started last Monday, I don’t really have enough data yet. And I’m also leaving on a road trip this afternoon so there’ll be a gap in the information. I’m not being hard on myself about perfect record keeping. I’ve decided that even if I don’t have calorie info, as long as I keep the food diary aspect of it going, that’s good enough.

I did the math and found out just what I need to loose. I gained 22 pounds during the pregnancy. Then, while breastfeeding and not paying any attention at all to what I ingested, I managed to gain back the weight of the baby, placenta, and water, as well as an additional 4 pounds. No fair! You’re supposed to loose weight while nursing!

I was aiming to have half of the baby/nursing weight gone by my cousin’s wedding on Saturday. I’ve lost 12 pounds so I’m very close. But I doubt I’ll hit it exactly, what with no exercise and gas station food. But still, I think I’m doing well. Once the baby weight is off I need to keep going though. According to my BMI, I was 5 pounds over my max weight to begin with.

I can tell a difference with some of my clothes. I’m back to wearing my pre-preggo belts finally. The first pair of back-to-works pants I bought need to have belt loops added because I need to wear a belt with them now. But it’s hard to know if I actually went down a size or not because women’s clothing sizing is so retarded and varies from store to store, from brand to brand, from item to item. Pants shopping is the bane of all of our existences!

I just need to keep up as much activity as I can manage to fit in a busy working mom’s schedule. I take the stairs at work. I go for a walk in the afternoon around our campus. I try to do at least one 10 minute pilates routine at night. Every little bit helps!

Let's Get Physical

Kirk's mobile now. I wouldn't say that he's crawling, exactly. But he's definitely mobile. He's got this whole system of not entirely fluid movements, from sitting to climbing to rolling to crawling-esque that get him all about on the floor. So he's not going to disappear from sight, like when he's in his walker, but he definitely can get around. Especially on the hardwood floors. There he doesn't even have to stay up in proper crawling position. He can just pull himself along on his belly using only his arms.

So now I'm fully and completely aware of how dirty the floors are at any given moment. And it's not like we're particularly slobby or have a whole menagerie or anything. But one little kitty does shed and hardwood does tend to collect dust bunnies. I'm going out of my head! I'm constantly looking at a new spot of crumbs or whatever and wondering, "Didn't I just clean that?" It's ridiculous. I'm going to turn into my father. He's totally obsessed with clean floors. One poor year we did all our gift shopping at the dollar store and got him a mini dust pan and mini hand broom. He still has it! It's like the best present he ever got.

Good Luck Charm

I find it interesting the different levels of freaked-outedness that other parents of young babies show regarding what their baby puts in his mouth. Mr. b and I are very lax. Kirk was out in the yard last night while Mr. b was putting up gutters. (Murphy’s Law states that the day you buy said gutters, because you don’t have any on the house at all, it will then rain non-stop for 3 days so you can’t put them up.) He was eating grass and dandelions and clovers the whole time. He thought it was great! He had spit-covered clovers glued all over his head and neck! I wasn’t at all concerned. Why should I be? Those are all edible plants and we never did put weed n’ feed down on the lawn so it’s chemical free. Of course when I took him inside for a pants change I found he was sucking on a rock. Oops!

Contrast with my brother and his wife. They were washing their son’s hands after their own dog licked him. Because they didn’t want him putting dog saliva in his mouth. The dog was all o’er Kirk, licking his hands, face, whatever. Kirk loved it!

Don’t leave me!

I think Kirk might be going into the dreaded Separation Anxiety phase. I don’t know. I haven’t been keeping up on the reading in his instruction manual so I’m not sure what to be expecting this chapter. But he’s definitely freaking out when I leave him behind to go into another room. Yesterday morning I had to bring him into the bedroom with me while I was getting ready for work. He wouldn’t just play toys by himself in the living room like normal. And he’s been crying when I put him into his car seat and then shut his door and go around to the driver’s side. And bed time! Sheesh. He’s been getting worse and worse there. Last night he fell asleep just fine. But woke up 2 hours later at 10:00pm and wouldn’t go back to sleep. I tried. Then Mr. b gave him a bottle. Then I tried again. As soon as you’d leave his room he’d start crying. I finally gave up and brought him into bed after an hour of that crap. “Just let them cry themselves to sleep” isn’t an option. He wails and then pauses to catch his breath or play with a crib toy and then starts up again. He gets himself too worked up to fall asleep on his own. So I transferred him back to his crib at about Midnight but even then he woke up just enough to fuss a bit about it.

Mr. b says he’s fucking with us. I don’t know. It’s weird though. And makes me worried about our upcoming road trip to Georgia. I had assumed he’d be fine since we’re renting a van and driving down there with my folks. So there will always be someone in the back to hang out with him. We’ll see.

Then again, Mr. b just claimed that Kirk is “broken” because he hasn’t started crawling. He’s totally spending all his R&D on standing and walking. His balance is still crap but he’s beginning to haul himself up by climbing up Mommy and he will walk along the edge of furniture if you stand him up there. And he does wheelies in his walker by picking up the entire frickin’ thing while he’s running around in it!

I guess I WAS made for these times.

I am just not cut out to be a single mom or a stay at home mom. I can’t handle it. I need a break. Not a long one. And I don’t even need to get away. I just need to have someone else be in charge of the boy for a while. This weekend was hard on me. Mr. b was in the recording studio all day Saturday and all day Sunday. Sure he was home Sunday morning, but by the end of the night, the effect of his assistance had waned. It’s especially hard for me in the evening. I need time to wind down on my own. I need to make food for my own damn self. I’ve already spent all day playing and going for walks and feeding and caring and naps and diaper changes and bottles and everything and I need a break.

Of course it didn’t help that Kirk was out of sorts much of the weekend, starting Friday. My sister reported that he had been quite crabby that day and sure enough, he was quite crabby for us at home. No matter, he went to bed before my dad even got there to watch him while I was at Mr. b’s gig. But before I left to see Mercurial Rage play, Kirk woke up. My dad was naturally excited to get to see his grandson even though he was being naughty by being up past his bedtime, after having gone to bed already. When I got home from the gig I found out that Crankenstein had stayed up crabbing and crying until 11pm. Teeth? Insomnia? Fucking with Grandpa? Who knows. But my dad finally got to see what a bad bedtime is like. We had previously just smiled and nodded when he would remark that Kirk never fusses up a storm. He finally got to experience the little guy’s not so little temper. Which he gets from the paternal line. Definitely.

But it’s not to say that Kirk was a pain in my ass all weekend. He was adorable at book club on Saturday. And he was alternately a cute bully and a sweetheart while playing with la’s adorable daughter on Sunday. But I’m still just exhausted. I’m burnt out from being the sole caregiver. My hat’s off to all those parents that stay home all day every day. And to those that don’t have someone else to give them a hand. I couldn’t do it.

Bus Stop Baby

I’m 0 for 2 for normal mornings this week. Kirk had his first ride on the city bus.

Whenever Mr. b meets me at work on his bike, it’s my key in the car ignition as I’m the one that unparks it. I’ll grab my key back from him when we walk in to my sister’s place to pick up the boy and that’s that. But yesterday afternoon we had to go out to the government center where she was picking up her marriage license. So everything was weird and I never got my key back.

This morning Mr. b called me at about 6:30am to say that he had my car key still. Hooboy. Before we had a kid that wouldn’t be an issue. But now? So I started brainstorming. What time does Shogunmoon go to work? Would he be a willing courier for us? Maybe I could take the bus with the boy to Mr. b’s café and then bus back home with the key and then drive back to the café to fetch the boy. Or we could just wait until the next person comes on shift and hope they’re not such a moron that Mr. b couldn’t just leave them behind the counter for an hour while he rides back home and then we drop him off. But Mr. b’s idea was better. So I took the bus to work with Kirk and my sister picked him up here after A1 got on her school bus.

My sister was worried that the bus wouldn’t be safe for a baby. Feh. There’re kids on there all the time. Kirk really liked the bus. There was lots of good people watching! He didn’t even fall asleep until we were on the south side of downtown and there were far fewer riders to distract him. And then he was the star in the office! He got passed around from adoring lady to adoring lady and cooed at and just generally treated like a total rock star.

Thursday is slated to be weird again because my sister has a doctor’s appointment that morning. I’m still not sure what our Plan B will be. Hopefully tomorrow and Friday will be normal at least!

Scary

I’ve seen some freaky ass shit on the highways around town, from burning cars to 480˚ spinouts to my (not a cop) dad directing traffic on an icy on-ramp. But I’m just now coming down from the adrenaline high of the supreme weirdness I saw on my way to drop Kirk off at my sister’s house this morning. I was driving west on Highway 7, between Louisiana and Texas. There’s that slight hill before you get to the Texas light. I was almost at the crest of the hill when suddenly, a red SUV started coming over the 5 foot tall concrete barrier separating oncoming traffic! What the fuck?!? I swerved, and thankfully there was no one in the right lane or I would have hit someone. I was just tripping out. How do you drive up a vertical barrier? My brain just can’t wrap around the Newtonian physics of such a sight. Waiting to turn left at the next light, I could see traffic piling up in my rear-view. I heard the sirens on the way as I pulled Kirk out of the car in my sister’s parking lot.

I thought maybe the SUV got rear-ended in order to have enough force to get up the barrier. My sister’s theory is that the SUV could have ridden on top of a smaller vehicle for that lift. When I called Mr. b he figured that the small amount of slanted footing at the base of the barrier would be enough for a vehicle to ride up to the top. I’m sure I’ll never really know. Normally you can only see the tops of cars on the other side of it. Not their front wheels coming at you. But if there hadn’t been the wall? I would have been hit front-on. At high speeds.

So I just sat at my sister’s house for 20 minutes or so before taking an alternate route to work. I needed to hug and kiss Kirk. Cuddle him. Calm myself down from the adrenaline shakes. I felt bad because I was threatening to change his name to Cranky Mr. Crabby Pants this morning. I love him so much.

Cowboy Diplomacy

Wipeout

Late on Tuesday night we were awakened by a horrible choking noise. Both Mr. b and I bolted, thinking something was wrong with the baby. My sleep addled brain thought Kirk was on the floor next to my side of the bed, since that’s where the noise was coming from. Turns out it was the cat, beginning her process of horking up a hairball.

So we’re not the worst parents in the world. We are mindful of our child’s safety. Yet his current favorite toy? A very long green ribbon. Total strangulation hazard. But he loves chewing on it and swinging an end around and sucking his fingers through it. We never let him play with the ribbon unsupervised. Though we do call it the Poison Ribbon because when Kirk first started putting it in his mouth, Mr. b was worried that it was toxic. Since the ribbon had originally been wrapped around a giant stuffed dog his aunt bought for Kirk I pointed out that, “She didn’t get it from the Poison Ribbon Manufacturers of America.”

Yet Kirk is definitely entering the getting-knocked-about stage. An hour before going to his 9 month check up he pulled the Playstation down on top of his head. Left a nice mark for Doc to notice. And Monday night I had him in his walker out in front of the house. He was having a great time running around on the concrete but kept backing up until his rear wheels were stuck in the soft dirt of the hastas bed. I would free him and he’d be off again. Then he managed to get both right wheels into the dirt and over he tipped. It was total slow motion and I couldn’t get there in time to stop him. Of course he didn’t start crying when I set him back upright. No, he started wailing as soon as Mr. b tried wiping the dirt off his face. That boy hates having his face cleaned.

Ch-Ch-Changes

Last night I switched my nose ring. I’d been thinking of doing it for a while now. Kirk had been grabbing at the hoop lately. He’s been very interested in jewelry, grabbing at necklaces and my watch and Mr. b’s earrings and my earrings and whatnot. So switching to something smaller was definitely a factor. Now I’m wearing a tiny 6-petal flower stud. Well, not a stud in the Mall sense, it’s an Indian one so it’s coiled. I also have a little carnelian, but that looks like a zit when I wear it. I think I want to get something with a bit of bling, but I don’t know if the Indian dress shops around town have that good of a selection. I had planned on shopping around before switching but decided to just get it over with. It still feels strange. I had been wearing the same hoop in my nose since 1992. Sure, I changed it for my brother’s wedding and a few other occasions, but still, that’s a long time. I was used to that particular shape in my periphery. But it was time. I’ve been feeling it for a while and I just had to admit it to myself. I want to climb the corporate ladder so that Mr. b can be a stay-at-home-dad. And while I don’t have to give up the piercing itself to do so, it frankly is more professional to have it be smaller.

I’m also thinking of changing this blog’s name. I’m not knocked up anymore. And I’ve noticed that on a couple of my male friend’s blogs, they are linked to me by “belsum” and not “Knocked Up”, so I wonder if that’s too girly of a title? Heh. But really, it just isn’t quite accurate. And I’m also considering lightening up on my self-imposed rule of only writing about baby and preggo and parenting stuff here. I had been putting all other random thoughts on MySpace but, as Jon so eloquently pointed out already, that site kinda sucks. And it’s not like I haven’t been loosely tying in non-reproductive topics already. I don’t know. Bueller?

9 Month Well Baby

Kirk had his check up today. Both Mr. b and I were very pleased to see that Kirk's weight and height percentiles switched. Last visit he was in the 50% for height and above the 70% for weight. Now he's in the 50% for weight and the 70% for height. Doc said his weight percent might go down even more next time since he'll continue to burn more calories as he begins to crawl and/or walk. As usual, she was very calming and reassuring. She laughed while watching Kirk flap his arms the way he does constantly these days. She wasn't in the least worried that he's currently too lazy to crawl and would rather just flip over on his right side since he's good at that direction so it's the easy way out.

Doc was also glad that we're starting to give Kirk so many regular foods for him to self-feed. She laughed and laughed about him eating a pickle (great suggestion, thinga!) and said that it's just fine to be letting him try what we're having. She also said he could have oranges, though orange juice is out, and strawberry flavored foods, but fresh strawberries are out. I'm not sure why. The other main allergy paranoia foods--honey, nuts, eggs--we're supposed to wait until he's one year. One year is also when we start the switch off formula and move to whole milk.

It's like Kirk is in a transition period right now. He's not yet a little kid because he isn't walking. But he's not really a baby either because he's sitting up and doing so much on his own. I find it very interesting. Mr. b is bemoaning the loss of his little baby. I guess I should start the count down to when he starts begging for me to get pregnant again.

Red Carpet Preggos

I’ve been trying to avoid the horrible Britney birth statue thing because I hate her so much anyways and it’s just…but then I read the Go Fug Yourself take on it and yes. That’s it. It’s not even accurate! She had a fuckin’ C-Section! An elective C-Section! And here’s the thing, I am so fed up with celebrity pregnancies. Do these people even care about the lives they are creating? Do they understand that these little publicity stunts will become whole people that will need love and attention? Or does that not matter when you have nannies to raise your children and chefs to cook your post-partum diet foods and personal trainers to help you loose the 5 and a half pounds you allowed yourself to gain? (Sure, Diablo’s girlfriend Kate Hudson said fuck it and gained as much weight as she fuckin’ felt like it when she was up the spout, which was awesome, but she still had wealthy person assistance to loose it all.) I don’t understand it. It’s not like half of these women even conceived naturally. Yeah, you had twins by accident. Sure you got knocked up “accidentally” with your first child in your mid-forties. We believe you. And now the insipid TomKat silent birth is upon us and I can’t escape the horror of that whole scenario. I’m not so jaded as some to still believe that she’s just wearing a belly prosthetic but I also fear for that poor child. Next will come the Brangelina baby—and I like them as a couple but the over-exposure is already painful. And there’s the whole Jessica-wants-to-adopt-an-entire-country-and-then-get-immaculately-concepted thing brewing. I guess that’s why I was so happy to hear about Heath and Michelle during Oscar season. They just seemed like real people. I could relate to their emotions and decisions. They were genuinely excited about being parents. They were truly in love with their beautiful little girl. They denied help from their families because they wanted to spend time with their own new family. They were in love with each other even more so after seeing their amazing creation. And Michelle was so matter of fact about the labor and delivery process, talking about how trusting it is to be naked and pooping and in pain and still be supported and loved by your man. It was the most honesty I’ve ever sensed from “Hollywood types” and it was magnificent.

Dinner Party

We had Kirk out at a friend's house past his bedtime tonight. It was the first time since he was a really little guy and just slept in his car seat all the time. It worked out surprisingly well. He was only fussy when we were all eating dinner and not paying attention to him! But the rest of the evening he played toys, ate his supper, got into jammies, had a bottle, and fell asleep on the couch. We could have stayed out even longer! He woke up as we were leaving but fell back asleep in the car and again when he was being transferred into his crib at home. We had been apprehensive about being gone anywhere during nigh-nigh time because he does so much better when he's following his usual schedule. But it seems that he's old enough now that we can just transfer that schedule over to another location. I know I sure as hell fell asleep at all my parent's friend's houses when I was a kid. It's part of growing up. And that's what the Pack n Play is for.

Hear me roar?

...most women find themselves putting their hobbies--and girlfriends--aside as adults.

This quote is from Diablo Cody’s review of Rollergirls in February. I had been noticing a lack of activities and friendship in my own life lately so when I read this it really stuck with me. I guess I had assumed it was part and parcel of being a mom. You just have to put your own priorities on hold in order to care for this other person that is completely dependant upon you. And while that’s both empowering and fulfilling, it’s also draining and denies you an identity other than “Kirk’s Mom”. I’m more interesting than that dammit. But do I even know it anymore? I mean, I don’t sew anymore and my wardrobe used to be 90% my own creations. I’ve been working on the same knitting project for 6 months. I don’t even read. I’m lucky to get one book finished a month. And I used to plow through one every week or two! I don’t belong to any regular groups. Sure, I have book club, but that only meets once a month and I keep missing the meetings. They’re always perfectly legitimate excuses (everyone has the stomach flu, I’ll be in Texas, etc.) but then what? My choir is only active 3 months of the year. What about the meantime? Mr. b is off to band practice twice a week and I’m home with the boy. He always tells me I need to get out and do stuff, but what? And with whom? All my girlfriends are in the same boat as me. But why don’t we force the issue more? Not everyone has kids yet. But even my girlfriends without kids are “too busy”. I count myself lucky if I see a single person during the week that’s not part of my immediate family or a co-worker. Actually, once a week is probably too frequent. Usually it’s once a month. And when we do get together, we always tell each other the same lie, “It’ll be different when we all have kids. Then they can run around and play while we hang out.” It sounds lovely. Will it ever happen?

But then again, I’m having a good week this week. Diablo bought me lunch today (and because of that act of kindness, I’m not going to flame her for totally stealing my years-old pirate obsession!) and tomorrow I’m going over to another friend’s new pad. But 1) this is highly unusual and 2) I put together the hook up for tomorrow. Because I’m sick of hibernating. I’m sick of only having internet contact with people that live in town. I’m sick of only hearing about friends third-hand from Mr. b who heard about it from one of the boys at band practice. I may be Kirk’s Mom, but I’m also me. So now I need to find a kung fu or tai chi or yoga or belly dancing class nearby. And start taking Chinese lessons.

A Weekend in Sickbay

That was a helluva thing.

Kirk continued waking up to puke/dry heave at least once an hour Thursday night. Occasionally the poor little buddy would hurl the minute quantities of stomach juices that had managed to replenish since the last time. He would cry, confused at why such a terrible thing was happening, and then settle back into an uneasy sleep in my arms. I dozed a bit while holding him on the couch, but mostly I just watched over him. Mr. b got home about 3:15am and went to buy some Pedialyte. At that point I had given Kirk a few ounces of water over an hour or two and he had managed to keep it down. So I went to bed at 4 and then got up with him at 6. Short night.

Friday afternoon I started giving Kirk half-strength formula. He was hungry and thirsty and the Pedialyte just wasn’t good enough anymore. He was wanting something every couple of hours because nothing was sticking with him long enough. But I wasn’t willing to push it and give him full-strength until it had been a full 24 hours vom-free.

And then Mr. b got sick.

I just don’t know how we managed to get through those first few weeks of Kirk’s life when we were up all the time. But at least we were able to trade off so that we could each get more than 3 hours in a row of sleep. I didn’t have that luxury this weekend. I was the sole care-giver for Kirk and I was also trying to nurse my poor sick husband through the pukingshits. Kirk and I went to the grocery store early on Saturday morning to get various beverages for him once Mr. b was able to keep water down. That was my first time out of the house.

I was still keeping it together on Saturday. I fed Kirk some applesauce for breakfast and some oatmeal for lunch and kept Mr. b supplied with Gatorade and juice and chicken soup. I was weary and exhausted, but I was just glad that it looked like I was going to escape getting diseased, too. But I was more run down that I realized. Late on Saturday night, when Mr. b was finally starting to be on the mend, Kirk woke up for another bottle yet again. And I lost it. I couldn’t handle having my sleep interrupted after a mere 2 hours yet again. Mr. b fed Kirk his bottle and I tried to go back to sleep. But something had snapped. I got back up again and was trying to clean and straighten up the kitchen table. In the dark. Mr. b says I kept mumbling about how I couldn’t sleep because I had to do stuff. I remember doing this but I don’t know why it seemed so important at the time. I was totally in a fugue state. Mr. b got up with Kirk in the morning and I was finally able to sleep. I could have slept for days.

Common Sense

OK, the nurse said home care should be fine. If Kirk gets dehydrated, has a high fever, or continues to vomit or dry heave after 12 hours, then he's got to go in. I shouldn't give him anything, water or medicine or anything, until his stomach is settled. Then it's Pedialyte for 12-24 hours, then 12 more of half-strength formula, and then back to a 4 month old's bland rice cereal and applesauce diet. And he should sleep sitting up if possible to prevent, as Mr. b put it, him from going Bon Scott on us. Kirk's sleeping reclined on a mound of pillows in the living room right now. I'll just stay out here with him until Mr. b gets home from work late tonight and can bring the car seat in. I'm not sure if I should stay home from work tomorrow. Mr. b doesn't have to work so childcare isn't the issue. But am I contagious? I sure as hell don't want to pass this evil shit on to my coworkers. I mean, it looks inevitable that we'll be getting sick next. Great.

Puke

Well fuck. Kirk has the stomach flu. I'm on hold with the after hours nurses line right now to find out if there's anything we can do besides just wait it out. My younger niece started puking on Tuesday afternoon so Mr. b went and picked up the boy. A2 was fine yesterday morning so we brought Kirk over there. But then this morning my sister called. She and her man had been up all night with the pukingshits. So obviously we didn't bring Kirk in. He was fine all day. Then, about an hour after dinner, after he was in his jammies and about ready for bed, I picked him up for his nigh-nigh bottle. And he spewed all down my shoulder and down my back and onto our comforter. Mr. b changed him but then had to leave for work. Kirk fell asleep so I got all the puke covered items into the laundry. But then he woke himself up about 45 minutes later, coughing on more vomit. Since then he's had dry heaves two more times. No fever that I can tell but I also haven't taken his temperature because I don't want to disturb him now that he's finally fallen asleep on my lap as I type one handed.

Waiting

When the hell is Kirk gonna cut his first tooth dammit?! I know that it all depends on the individual and that there's no way to predict it. But pretty much every single baby I know in the world and online even kind of close to his age has at least one. Yeah, Doc said that it's better to have them come in later than earlier. So the permanent teeth come in later when his mouth will be bigger. (And considering the orthodontic mess that both Mr. b and I had, that's definitely a good thing.) But Kirk has been ready to have a tooth pop out any minute now for frickin' four months! I can't take the wait anymore! The poor little guy was just a wreck tonight. He didn't have very good naps to begin with. He was sitting calmly in his daddy's lap after dinner and then out of nowhere started wailing. I put some numbing medicine on his gums and he promptly passed out. And still nothing. He's got all the classic teething signs that They say to look for. He's having really runny poops. He's drooling like a droolin' fool. He's fiercely chewing on everything. He's even making this goofy face where he looks like he's chewing on his own lower gumline! The poor little man!

On Raisins &c.

My M.O. for making my own baby food has been pretty simple: if Gerber/Del Monte doesn't make it, then I will. I don't see any point to going through all that effort for something that already exists. Plus, we often feed Kirk on the go so we need portable chow. Frozen puree cubes just aren't portable. Kirk really enjoyed the stage 1 prunes but I can't seem to find any in stage 2. (There were also tons of awesome foods that we saw in the grocery store in Texas that we don't have here. Ham and papayas. Mangos. Guavas. All sorts of tropical goodness. It's not fair.) So I reconstituted some raisins and tossed 'em in the food processor. They were a bit tangy for him. He really liked it at first, but after half a serving, it was just too much flavor. Earlier this week I hit upon the idea of mixing a raisin cube with half of his last banana serving. It's not like he was going to eat the bananas plain! And it worked perfectly. It wasn't too banana-y or too raisin-y. Tonight I tried again with the remaining bananas. I think he's on to me. He started making his "ew" face. Which is different from his flavor pucker. I'll have to think up something else to mix the rest of the raisin cubes with.

Mr. b thinks that adding a raisin cube or two to some chicken salad would be a perfect fit. I think I'll have to give that a whirl next time I make some. But I put fresh grape halfs in mine. Would that be weird to mix with raisin puree? I always think it's weird to eat corn salsa with corn tortilla chips. Incidentally, the raisin cubes don't freeze quite solid. They are still a slightly viscous liquid. So it was a challenge removing them from the ice cube tray since I couldn't just crack them out. It was more like a Jell-o mold.

I wonder if the frozen food cubes would be good for Kirk to suck on? It would make a helluva mess! And I suppose he's already learning about self-feeding with his little baby snacks. He likes zweiback toasts and arrowroot crackers and these groovy veggie puffs that Gerber makes that melt in your mouth so you don't have to worry about choking. The sweet potato ones are really, really good! And we got him a little mesh food holder deal, like this, that we can put fruit slices (or veggies or meat or whatever) in for him to gnaw on.

I still wonder about food allergies and all the introduction rules. I know he's fine with wheat since he's had mixed grain cereal. He had already had rice and oatmeal and barley so I figured we had waited plenty long. I think we're still supposed to wait until 1 year before strawberries, though he's already had other berries like blueberries. Maybe they're not the same type of whatever it is that can be allergenic? I'm not really sure how much longer we have to wait before he can start with citrus. I know we're supposed to hold off on peanuts, all nuts now, for as long as possible. And eggs are supposed to be introduced later, too. Maybe we can do those next. Since Kirk doesn't have teeth yet I have to make sure that everything is squishy enough for him to handle. So pieces of cheese are still out. Well, he doesn't even like cottage cheese yet (I think he has a texture issue--he made the same face when we tried to feed him chopped up spaghetti off our own dinner plates) so I guess we'll just stick to yogurt on the dairy front.

PS--Major congratulations to Diablo on her upcoming Letterman appearance! That's so kickass!

Mixed Feelings

My dad is doing substitute daycare today. He didn't need to; the conflict my sister had was canceled. But he had the day off for it and he was super excited to see his grandson! He was just thrilled to pieces when he arrived this morning. I gave him the lowdown of Kirk's current eating and sleeping habits, demo'd the walker, and was off to work. Well, I just got a call from my sister. My dad had called her with Kirk questions. He wanted to confirm how much to feed the boy (1 jar, just like I said) and when he takes his nap (after lunch, just like I said). Dad supposedly didn't want to "bother" me at work. Like I don't fuck off whenever I need to/feel like it anyway. So I really am realing from a serious bout of jealousy right now. It's my son dammit. You ask me questions about how to raise him. Mr. b is always bummed out about how little time we get to spend with Kirk during the day and that my sister gets to see him more than we do. I'm always defending the arrangements and scheduling by pointing out that Kirk sleeps for most of the afternoon so she really doesn't spend that much time with him. And it's truly and honestly fantastic that he's cared for by someone that loves him so much when we're not there. And we have the mornings getting ready with him, which often doesn't get factored in. I admit the evenings do seem short and go by very quickly. As do the weekends. So I really don't need my dad inadvertantly stirring up these feelings of inequality that I so successfully suppress. It's not his fault; I could never say anything to him. I don't know that I'll even mention it to Mr. b. But I have to admit, I'm fighting off tears right now at my desk as I'm typing. My sister played it off as, "Isn't it funny that he called me about your son?" But it's not funny. It hurts.