KDUNK

One of the many material obsessions I had early on in my pregnancy was finding the perfect glider or rocking chair for Lili’s room. Every Mom I talked to said regardless if you were a rocking chair style person or not this item was crucial for comfort during midnight feedings. They were right.

I kept hitting a brick wall when it came to finding a glider I liked. They were all white and ‘country style’ and ugly complete with fabrics that looked like they belonged on the floor of a Vegas casino rather then the interior of a baby’s nursery. Others were huge and expensive pieces of modern furniture which for some were great but also not our still but mostly not in our budget.

After combing the internet for months I came across a halfway decent but still gross glider (not gross dirty but gross in the least offensive/ugly department). It was white with a light blue cushion seat and ottoman. At that point I was 9 months pregnant and frankly sick of thinking about it anymore.

I contacted the owner on Craigslist. He was a Dad to a now toddler and responded right away. A quick google search (am I the only one who does this?) revealed the Dad’s name was linked to several books as Professor of Communications to a local college and author of several books on the television industry. He offered to drive the glider over to our apartment one day mid-day after hearing I was 9 months pregnant.

When he arrived he had a warm and familiar face. I also recall that although he had a toddler parked right outside in the car he offered to run up the glider the one flight of stairs to my apartment. I told him my husband would be home later and not to worry about it and to leave it in the front hall. Cash was exchanged. After a small pause he looked at the glider one more time saying,

“We had a lot of luck with this glider. A lot of nice nights rocking our child. I hope you have the same.”

The next day I received a follow up email from the Dad after the purchase. He said it was nice meeting me and he hoped I enjoyed the glider and good luck with the baby. This happens to me a lot. The follow up. Once I bought a kitten from a woman on Long Island. After a month she contacted me again to follow up. Check in. How was the cat? Did it like it’s new home? I humored her with a few kitten stories and we hung up. A high school friend once said to me it was something about my face - specifically my eyes - that made people feel nostalgic when they met me. Who knows.

The week before Lili was born I wasn’t sleeping much. In the middle of the night I would go into her room and sit in the dark in the glider ‘talking’ to her (not knowing she was a she at the time) reassuring her that everything was ready for her when she was ready to come out. At the time it was early December. The room was a tad chilly with an old clanking on and off Brooklyn radiator hissing. Outside a neighbor had installed a sensory overload style set of Christmas decorations complete with a blinking reindeer blasting a dying Casio keyboard loop of Christmas carols.

Tonight during our 2AM feeding I was reminded of those nights before Lili came. The unknown. Before I knew what it truly felt like to hold and rock a small baby, somewhat limp and tired so close to me in the middle of the night. And how most kids can sleep through practically anything when tired - even off-key Christmas carols - when being rocked to sleep.

Before Lili was born my mother gave me a very cool gift - my baby book. The book is full of copious notes and details of my young life in perfect penmanship documenting everything…

baby gifts received (apricot jumpsuit - Mr. & Mrs. Voebel)

world headlines (Spiro T. Agnew - resigned on tax fraud)

cars of the time (Mazda with rotary engine)

most advanced home appliance (trash compacter)

records of my height and weight (7 months - 16.3lbs, 27 inches)

first words (bad dog)

and overall notes about my personality as an individual (age 3 1/2 after having hair braided when wet and taking it out - Me, “Mom…am I big?” Mom, “Yes you are getting very big.” Me, “Well I have BIG hair and I don’t like it!”

This is such a cool thing to have and in some sense my inspiration for a blog devoted to all things Lili. Hope I can keep up.

Lili…the following is a list of current likes/dislikes:

LILI LIKES

• When we stand you up and lean you on the back of the couch - you think it is HILARIOUS to bury your head into the cushions and look up and bend knees and ’stand up’ again - repeat 15,000 times in a row
• Yogurt
• When eating you like to talk/moan through it ‘mmnn…mnnn….mnnnnn’
• Franny’s Feet - the most adorable kids cartoon on PBS - but only 15 mins and then you are on overload
• Watching You Tube videos
• Smashing hands on computer keyboard
• Coming up the steps to our apartment and leaning your head way, way back so neck is exposed and laughing as you looks up - each and every time we walk into house
• The sound of Ziploc bags crackling which I am constantly grabbing away from you
• Books, books and more books - each and every time I say, “Which one do you want to read next?” and there is a long pause as your eyes scan the pile and then you grunt and slap your choice repeatedly
• Sticking legs through holes in crib so feet are dangling - yes we lowered the crib
• To turn the light switch in your room on and off
• Peek-A-Boo
• The remote control and cell phones and chewing on keys (gross I know)
• Pulling magnets off the fridge door
• Putting your hand under running water during bath time in the sink
• Chewing on plastic lids
• ‘Chewing’ water - when takes sip of water - gasps loudly - and then ‘chews’ it
• Staring at the parents or caregivers of kids being pushed on the swings when you are on the swing - could care less about other kids next to you
• While nursing - you take two sips and then look up and smile and laugh and babble then down again for two sips then up again for smiles and laughs - repeat 50,000 times in a row - we call this the ‘milk review’
• Using your feet in monkey like ways still - grabbing toys, etc.
• Clapping

LILI DISLIKES

• Getting your face and hands washed after a meal - pure torture apparently
• HATES things going over your head
• HATES getting pajamas on
• Rarely likes to lie on back to play or cuddle, etc.
• Baby Einstein DVDS
• Being inside too long gets you cranky and anxious
• Hates suntan lotion or cream being put on yo
• When Ziploc bags are taken away from you
• Going into a store for too long - boring Mom!
• When I look in your mouth to check on your teeth
• When I leave you in bed too long after you awake - wants up!

Lili,

You have had more or less a pretty love/hate relationship with solid foods as of late I have to say. Some days you take them. Some days you don’t. Either way as the spoon nears your mouth you give me a look as if to say, “Sigh…this again?”

Granted several Moms have given me a heads up that not all babies like baby food ie: mush. My challenge has been however your gag reflex. I attempted to give you a Cheerio one morning recently and you gagged and ‘choked’ until the bits flew out your mouth. Did I mention the Cheerio was CUT IN HALF and soaked in breast milk?

So when all these people kept telling me to give you bits of chicken and bits of tofu, etc. I was like What??? when you can’t even swallow a Cheerio. But tonight I attempted something in between.

I boiled some Pastina - those teeny teeny tiny star shaped pasta - and added some juice from a can of Organic whole peeled tomatoes and a tiny pinch of salt. I took a bite and proceeded to eat half the dish because despite being simple it tasted very good. You watched me eat it and motioned for the spoon and leaned in opening your mouth.

Um. Ok.

So I gave you a tiny spoonful and you moaned and flapped your arms and legs and leaned in again with your mouth open this time as if to say, “FINALLY WOMAN! You are not serving me blended mush!” It was cute because I watched you chew it and mush it around in your mouth with a furrowed brow and then I watched as the light bulb went off in your head and you panted MORE MORE.

Babies moods and likes and dislikes change at the drop of a hat. I’m slowly getting that. Tomorrow you could hate this meal but tonight you ate a hearty portion for a little one your size. Good work little one.

xo

Dear Lili,

This weekend you met several family members for the first time at my cousin Amy’s wedding. It was very exciting to see everyone. And I’m surprised your cheeks are not chapped with the amount of kisses and love each and every one of them had for you.

This was your second wedding you have attended - in two weeks I might add. And your second hotel room experience. You love a King bed I must say. You especially loved this King bed with it’s cozy comforter and silky sheets. You slept between Dad and I with your arms spread out like a little starfish. It was adorable.

We all slept pretty soundly from about 9PM until about 2AM when we were abruptly awakened - all three of us at once by a VOLUME 55 ringing telephone in our hotel room. I jolted out of bed. You started to fuss. Dad said, “What the…” I looked at the clock that read 2AM and was convinced someone had died. I picked up the receiver:

Me: Hello???

Guy: (Southern California accent) Dude…can I get a burger?

Me: WHAT?!

Guy: Um…can I order a burger?

Me: No you can not get a BURGER because you are calling A ROOM not ROOM SERVICE

SLAM.

No need to go into detail about having to put you back down to bed went after that Lili. My life is an Adam Sandler movie.

In other news the next day while driving home from the wedding we decided to make a detour and make a stop in City Island where my grandfather once owned a sail loft. My grandfather was a famous sail maker and his boat even won the American’s Cup in the 1950’s. My grandfather was also once the ‘Balentine Ale’ man and both he and my grandmother appeared in various ads in old magazines featuring them on their boats looking glam and clinking glasses.

Back in the day he owned this City Island sail loft. My mother shares stories of visiting it as a kid with her siblings. My grandmother once shared a funny story about packing a picnic lunch, magazines, change of clothes, etc. and taking the train there only to find it was a short distance from her house. She arrived over packed, overdressed and embarrassed much to the amusement of my grandfather and his sailor buddies.

As we first drove into town I said from the backseat of the car to keep an eye out for the Ratsey Sailmaking sign. No sooner did I say it did your father spot it. We pulled the car over to the side of the road to inspect further.

You were soundly asleep in the car seat Lili so Dad stayed with you while I walked back to the sign. It was faded and painted on the side of an old building. An arrow said, “Ratsey Sail – Turn Here” with an arrow pointing down the street.

Across the street from the faded sign I noticed a cluster of old drunks sitting in front of a deli smoking and drinking away. Some looked to be around my grandfather’s age. When in doubt – as the local drunks I say.

K: Excuse me – I see that sign over there for Ratsey Sails
Guy: Oh that. That’s been long gone. Used to be around years ago.
K: I know. My grandfather was Colin Ratsey.
Guy:our grandfather was Colin Ratsey? Oh man. Do I have some stories for you.

Twenty minutes later and a few clouds of inhaled Marlboro smoke I was lucky enough to be told first hand about my grandfather and the company he owned among tons of other amazing things. Perhaps my favorite story of Dickie’s was this:

Dickie: Your grandfather Colin Ratsey was the first person to ever hire me. I was ten years old. He told me if I came every morning to the sail loft to raise the flag and every evening before sunset to take it down that he would pay me $3 which back then was a LOT for anyone much less a small kid. There was only one catch – he told me that in order to get my money I had to prove to him with bank receipts that for every $3 he gave me that I put $2 of it in the bank. Each week I presented him with receipts and each week I got my money. By the time I was fourteen years old I was the only kid in my town to own my own boat which your grandfather Colin taught me to sail.

After a few more exchanges and convinced your father thought I’d be murdered having been gone so long I headed back to the car.

Dickie: One more thing! My mother’s name is Eleanor Knapp. She was your grandfather’s receptionist for over twenty years. She’s now 88. I’m going to go home after this and tell her I met Colin Ratsey’s granddaughter. I can tell you already – you’ve made her day.

Family history is such an interesting thing Lili. I sometimes wonder what stories will stick with you. What memories and images you will take with you as yours. Pass down along the way.

Dear Lili,

I wish I was calm, cool and collected when it comes to you being sick. But I’m afraid I’m not. So here is my honest confession…

Over the last few days you’ve had more or less your first real cold. A hacking cough, a low-grade fever, stuffy nose and a brief phase of barfing in the middle of the night. The only thing about a common miserable cold with a baby however is that there is virtually nothing you can do about it. This is basic logic. Many people understand this logic in very black and white terms. Duh. Kids get colds. They will be fine. Babies can’t take medicine. It’s that simple. No biggie, right? I wish it were that easy for me as your Mom. But it isn’t.

When I was sick - older sure - I remember my Mom being calm, cool, collected. We were sometimes allowed to watch TV. Given a new book to read in bed. Given a cool washcloth if we had a fever. Given snacks and drinks to make us well.

With a baby it is not that easy. They can’t tell you what exactly is wrong. You can’t really tell the degree to which they are ’suffering’. I find this overwhelming at times. Like I’m boating in the dark without oars. I want someone to tell me which way to turn, what exactly is going on with my kid and most importantly how to provide them some relief and/or fix it.

Take for example last night in the middle of the night I awoke to the sound of you hacking away until you made a choking sound. I ran in and picked you up out of bed. You were making a very, very unpleasant pinched wheezing sound not unlike the sound of someone actually choking on a piece of something. I freaked out and flicked on the light. Your face was bright red, the horrible sound continued - the sound like an old man in a restaurant choking on a piece of fried chicken - and then you coughed furiously until you more or less barfed up a ball of mucus (sorry to be gross) in addition to your dinner. My arm was covered. The floor was covered. And instead of dealing calmly I clutched you tightly and yelled at top volume for your father screaming his name three times in a row until he ran down the hall in a panic from a deep sleep.

I don’t know what comes over me in such situations. I just completely and totally panic. Until I became a parent did I realize how totally frantic I am about stuff like this. I guess instead of beating myself up about it I’m just trying to the best I can but sheeeeeessssshhhh. Can’t I just chill? A little? Believe me when I tell you that I get that this is just the start of a long, long road to sickness just having a kid!

Tonight I decided to take action. Before bed I strolled you over to the Health Food store. After combing the aisles I was able to find exactly what I was more or less looking for - that my favorite brand of natural baby products ‘California Baby’ makes a bubble bath for Cold & Flu. The bubble bath is full of natural herbs like eucalyptus oils to remedy stuffiness. I bought it. We went home.

In the bathroom I sat you on my lap and let you play with a rubber duck. I ran the water and let the bathroom get hot and steamy as the doctor suggested. I poured the bubble bath in the water and let the smell of the calming eucalyptus fill the room. The bubble bath even came with a bubble wand so we blew some bubbles and sang some songs while the water cooled down a bit before I put you in. I can honestly say for the first time in two days you seemed to breath a little better. More importantly - so did I.

Dear Experienced Moms,

What is the deal? If your kid is sick - hacking up a lung sounding and major snot running down nose - is this bad to take them on the public swings in the park? After doing so today (we were trapped indoors) I realized this was most likely lame and bad of me to have done. Oops. That and the fact we ran into another Mom friend who took one look at my child hacking away and moved to the swings at the end of the row - who could blame her?!

So tell me…is it like the gym? Once you use the machine - it is my responsibility to then wipe it down afterwards?

-Sincerely,

First Time Mom

Lili.

Here is one of your favorite things to do as of late…I think it is a reflection of your upcoming teen years but I can’t be sure…

On days that Super Nanny is not watching you I take you to the park. I often run into Super Nanny (watching another kid two days a week) and Super Nanny’s friends. Everyone is nice and says hello to me and you. You SMILE and BEAM and REACH for Super Nanny but then I take you away.

Within two seconds you start to meltdown. You squirm and back bend. You throw a fit. Today I had to do a emergency diaper change in the park and just when Super Nanny and friends walked by you threw your dirty diaper at me and kicked your foot into my stomach and squirmed so hard you nearly fell off the bench and I nearly dropped you. I then attempted to put you in your stroller but you became stiff as a board and it was like trying to strap a wooden spoon into a stroller.

I know not everyone in the park including Super Nanny was saying, “Psst - Look at that bad Mom..unable to control her child” - but today it sure felt like it.

Dear Lili,

Your Dad is a hard working man. Sometimes he has beers. Sometimes the combination of hard working tired Dad plus beers equals tired groggy Dad. And this is what goes down in the middle of the night…

Each night you cry once or twice and sometimes three times. Once often to be fed. The other times because your pacifier fell out and you just need to be plugged back up to go back to snoozing again. The only problem is if we don’t jump on plugging you up you start to cry and cry and eventually wake yourself up. It is then impossible to put you back down to sleep. Ok. Maybe not impossible but it takes a while and this is tiring. So…if you make a peep…we jump.

Um…at least one of us jumps. Here is a recent comical middle of the night conversation with your Dad:

You Lili: Wahhhhh…wahhhhh

Me: Can you go put her pacifier in please?

Dad: Huh?! Wha?!! Sure… no problem… (turns over and goes back to bed)

Me: Can you PLEASE go put her pacifier in - do not turn over (gentle shaking of Dad’s shoulders)

Dad: (Dad sitting up and searching in the dark on bed) Can’t find it…can’t find it…

Me: (increasingly annoyed) WHAT? CAN’T you FIND?! WHAT?! WHAT are you looking for?

Lili: (crying volume increasing) Wahhhhh……wahhhh…..

Dad: (sitting still and upright) Can’t find the pacifier….(opens bedside drawer totally asleep)

Me: (now fully awake) IT’S IN HER CRIB! Your daughter’s crib. Can you please go to her room and put the pacifier in her mouth?!

Dad: Oh (blank). (A word you should not use Lili)

Last night we had a similar incident. Except when I asked Dad to please put the pacifier in your mouth he sat upright and said in total seriousness, “Watch your tone, ok? I didn’t get your voicemail!”

Dearest Lili baby,

This is far from a witty blog entry and more just a quick note of something funny you did today that in the end most likely won’t translate into words but oh well. Super Nanny brought you home from a long and fun day together. I fed you. You finished eating. And when I sat you back up and was talking to Super Nanny thanking her for everything, etc. you put your face really, really close to mine - nose to nose and just literally started to belly laugh.

At first Super Nanny and I just giggled because your belly laugh is totally contagious. But then I started talking again but was interrupted by you nuzzling your face into mine again until our noses touched and we looked eye to eye which again set you into total hysterics. Then me hysterics. Then Super Nanny hysterics.

I don’t know how to quite explain it but what you were doing was making your own joke which you initiated and not just responding to something funny I was doing. This is a very cute and grown up thing to do. Very kid like. Not very baby like. I don’t know. I just couldn’t believe it. You are becoming your own little funny personality. I love it. And you.

I love you.

xo

Dear Lili,

Here are a list of things you do as of late:

-Peek-A-Boo: apparently this is the world’s most fun game. To you. To me and Dad it looks like you are trying to smother yourself with burp cloths, blankets, jackets, pajamas and just about anything you can get your hands on to hide behind on a regular basis. It is pretty adorable though I have to say. Especially since this week you really seemed to ‘get it’. When I hide behind something and say ‘Where’s Mommy?’ and whip it off saying ‘Peek-A -Boo’ you laugh like there is no tomorrow. It’s also pretty cute when you attempt to do this. You grab a piece of cloth and sort of half cover your face and leave it sitting there a little too long and then whip it off like a spaz with two hands and laugh and laugh and laugh. I pretend to be surprised every time. Kind of like after a long day when your Dad says, “I need a beer” and I go, “Oh, really? Huh…”

-Wanting to Walk - I have heard of these kids that get too frustrated with crawling and just skip it all together and go straight to walking. This kind of spooks me out. Imagine I sit here typing this and out of the corner of my eye you little Lili just cruise by the kitchen saying, “Hey Mom, what’s up?”. This might be you though. You hate crawling and get very, very frustrated. But when I stand you up on your own two feet and hold your arms you actually move your little feet one by one like Frankenstein taking his first steps and grunting the whole way. But you like it. You focus on something to walk towards like a mirror and when you finally make it you pant and laugh and smile.

-Hate the Bottle Still - yup - boy is this topic a big snore. Well tomorrow I head to the city for the first time leaving you with the nanny in Brooklyn so….good luck with that one! Now or never kid.

-Grab - do you know that game at a carnival - a glass box of stuffed animals and you put a quarter in and a big claw comes down and reaches for a stuffed animal? That is you Lili. You are the walking claw game. Wherever I am these days - a store, someone’s house, the park, at home, etc. you reach your little claws out and manage to grab the most random things without my notice - a hanger, a wooden spoon from the shelf, a fistful of leaves, a plastic bag, etc. I have to keep my eye on you! Or train you to steal better things. Either one.

-Storytelling - recently we went on a family car trip. I didn’t have your favorite book ‘Knuffle Bunny’ so having read it ten million times to you I recited it by memory using the same tones of voice in certain parts and your eyes got wide and your gasped a tiny gasp with excitement. You wouldn’t take your eyes off of me and thought it was SO COOL that Knuffle Bunny could be read here - here in the car even though the actual book was home - fifty times in a row! Dad the driver? Did not find it as cool. (although was impressed with my memory)

-Stroller - about 90% of the time now you must have the stroller in the most upright position possible otherwise you sit there doing what looks like a forward stomach crunch block after block after block until I adjust it. You don’t want to miss a thing.

-Silent - go totally silent - even mid-scream - when I talk on my cell phone and open your eyes wide and listen. I will do the same thing once boys start calling you - just you wait.

-Dad’s Lap - are not happier than when you are on your Dad’s lap. This is usually cashed in on a Saturday when you two love to sit quietly and watch European soccer together. I agree - those Italian soccer players are pretty hot.

We love you

xo

Move over Marty Markowitz!

There’s a new mayor in town and her name is Lilian Birdie Shepard!

Lili - I can’t even BEGIN to tell you how many people you smiled at today. I can honestly say it was close to 35. I’m talking a full grin from ear to ear revealing your two bottom front teeth, arms and legs flapping with happiness, a little laugh with each person you encountered and bright shining eyes with long lashes blinking. Oh - and the little ponytail with yellow bow I put on top of your head like Pebbles. You were like a cartoon drawing of a baby come to life.

An older Dominican grandmother blew you kisses and said, “She is like a little doll!”. A girl wearing gold hoop earrings and a bedazzled “I love Hip Hop” T-shirt said, “How you doing beautiful?” A woman in blue running shorts wearing an ipod bent down at the corner and tickled your bare feet saying, “So nice to have bare tootsies on a hot day now isn’t it?” An older man with sailor tattoos said, “Those eyes! God bless you. Such a happy baby.” A mother with a little girl stopped and backed up to see you because the young girl said, “Mommy! Look at the cute baby’s bow!” Two women in burqas pointed and smiled at you with their eyes. A teenage kid on a skateboard waved to you. A bald Jamaican elevator repair man asked your name and said, “Bye little baby!”. And these were only a handful of those happy faces.

Because I was strolling you from behind each time someone engaged with you I had to peek down in front and see what you were doing. When I looked down there I would see you - giant happy cooing baby of the year face in full glory.

Thank you for being my little smiling daughter Lilian. Making friends wherever you go. You bring a smile to my face as a result. Even pre-caffeine.

Should you run for mayor you have my vote.

I love you.

xo

Lili,

Dad had a good idea of how we can make a little money off you.

We noticed last night that wherever we go you literally have the eyes of everyone in the room. Old people, young people, happy people, grumpy people. You laugh and smile at them with your wide eyes, little tuft of hair with a bow and two tiny teeth and giant grin. You are like an animated character of a baby. People are drawn to you.

Dad says when you start doing this that perhaps he and I can learn to pickpocket the room.

Hey - we need to start saving for college, ok?

xo

Dear Lili,

I am you mother. I watch you three days a week and work freelance two. Sometimes on the three days I sneak in work when you are sleeping but if a camera were on us when this was going down it might make for an entertaining reality show because the scene is comedy. Just comedy. Let me break it down for you.

Today a favorite client asked if I had time to send in some brainstorm ideas. I was excited. To use my brain. But today is one of the days I have you full-time. The ideas had to be in by 12noon so this is how the day went leading up to it just to give you some perspective:

-you woke up and needed to be fed, changed, burped, toys gathered, diaper & food bag packed for later

-I jumped in shower putting you in car seat in bathroom giving you a plastic bowl to play with

-got dressed by bringing car seat into bedroom where your Dad was sleeping. you began shrieking over and over again like a parrot on drugs - a new sound you have created and enjoy trying out at early hours in the morning. SHRIEK…pause….SHRIEK…pause, etc.

-half-naked I attempted to email myself my brainstorming documents should by the miracle of god you fall asleep in the stroller I could then do some work at the library on the computers there

-as I am rushing to email myself these documents you continue crazy volume ten crazy parrot noise. Somehow it is getting louder. A sound that could break glass. A sound - as Dad points out - not good for the library - sigh

-finally get you out door and downstairs but after put you in stroller and strap on all the other crap to back of stroller - food bag, diaper bag, my bag, etc. the stroller literally tips back in slow motion until your feet are in the air. I momentarily freak out but you are fine. sigh.

-get outside and realize it’s about to pour. run up flight of steps to gather your stroller rain cover. finally out door once again

-stroll at full speed to coffee shop for much needed caffeine and breakfast hoping you will fall asleep for morning nap. I pull your sunshade down completely over the stroller hoping this will help. But no. Moment I stroll into coffee shop the crazy parrot shrieking begins again but this time for an audience of non-caffeinated Brooklyn people waiting on line and wondering who is blending a dying parrot in the back

-dash out of coffee shop full of burning angry eyes - stroll quickly to library. thanks to sun shade it appears the crazy parrot is asleep in its cage

-get off elevators inside and dash to computer. furiously begin typing up brainstorm ideas switching gears as best as I can. Typing with one hand while strolling crazy parrot back and forth with the other hand

-doing best to concentrate although in cube next to me a teen is watching YOU TUBE videos with no headphones

-knowing crazy parrot only sleeps 20 minutes - at 17 minutes I begin to save my document and am forced to add a note at bottom that appears as if all of the sudden I had lost my mind or perhaps a hand and could only type in cryptic caps. note reads: NO MORE TIME. HAVE MORE IDEAS. CALL ON CELL. NOT SPELL CHECKED. FORGIVE ERRORS

-about to push send but parrot SHRIEKS -apparently up - but can’t spend one more nano second in the stroller. pick up parrot. parrot smashes both fists down on keyboard adding ZZXXV&*##$^%&^*^& somehow to various parts of my brainstorm document. Sigh. Entertain parrot with one hand by shaking a rattle with her on my lap - with other hand erase errors as best as I can. clock reads 11:59

-send the email. feel like total jerk lame-o

-All of the sudden smell something horrible - pick up parrot off lap only to find worlds largest dump ever leaking out sides of parrot pants and on to my pink skirt

-skirt and hand now covered in poop - stroll to elevators and proceed to clean her up in library bathroom

-crazy parrot in bathroom twists poop covered body in all directions as I attempt to clean her up on changing table. begins to eat strap off of public restroom changing table. I almost don’t care

-cleaned up and ready to head out but crazy parrots shrieks and flails arms and legs and we have to stroll immediately over to the children’s books section of library where there are tiny chairs and do a feeding. perhaps I can just live here - at the library. At least there is AC

-We finally go home

THE END

Dear Lili,

This week you started solid foods. For whatever reason I was really, really looking forward to this. I guess for a stay at home Mom it adds another fun thing I can do with you several times during the day. It also fits my anal personality to totally and completely get into preparing things WAY IN ADVANCE - aka - your food - buying fresh ingredients, cooking things, blending things, mixing things, freezing things, etc.

Just the other night I couldn’t sleep. It was 4AM so I hit the kitchen. On the stove I steamed some corn cobs, in the blender I mashed up fruit and in the rice cooker I had some sweet potatoes. I can hear the snickers from well seasoned parents out there - making your own baby food - pft. See how long that lasts. I know I know. I’m guessing this stage is similar to one …lets say in the early courtship of a lovey dovey relationship. Making fresh pasta dough from scratch on a week night because it is ‘fun’. Regardless - I’m loving it.

So far I’ve also experimented with jarred foods. All together you have eaten: rice cereal (with breastmilk), pears, sweet potatoes, carrots, prunes and oatmeal. Oh - and bananas which you HATED. You gagged and spit it out and looked at me if I’d just feed you rotten eggs. I didn’t take it personally seeing as it was only when I was pregnant did I take to really liking them myself.

Although, I must admit I was worried about feeding you certain foods because of my family history with food allergies. When I was a baby my mother said I was allergic to tomatoes and had an intolerance to dairy, wheat and peanut butter. When my younger sister was born though she was allergic to tons of things: dairy/eggs, goats milk, wheat, corn syrup (found in most soy products at the time), corn, nuts, citrus. Her allergies were so severe that when I kissed her cheek after eating a milk product she would break out in tons of hives. Or when we cut a piece of cheese using one knife we then had to put it in the sink immediately so as not to use the same knife to cut something my sister might eat or her throat would close and she would have trouble breathing. To this day I still pause when I’m cutting something in my kitchen that she was allergic to tempted to change knives immediately.

I give my mother tons of credit for dealing as well as she did with food allergies and her baby back then in the 80’s. There were not things such as Whole Foods and giant aisles of most grocery stores packed with food alternatives for people with food allergies much less kids with them. My mother used to order wholesale shipments of rice bread from Seattle and store the loaves in various friends freezers in the neighborhood. She found clever ways to give my sister the closest possible version of what other kids were eating at the time - popcorn (toasted rice cakes crumpled with soy butter), ice cream (frozen pear juice pops), etc. Not only that but she constantly had to deal with comments from tons and tons of people wherever she went telling her to ‘relax’ and stop being ’so uptight’ - just give the kid some ice cream. Sure ok. Then do you plan to be with our family in the ER at 3AM when her throat closes? Because that is where you would find us often.

Mom befriend a Vietnamese friend in the next town over. The woman taught her how to make rice noodles and delicious and clever things my sister could have. And soon our normal cupboards full of typical American foods such as Ritz crackers were replaced by seaweed crackers, butter was replaced by soy butter, peanuts replaced with soy nuts, etc. I remember high school friends after school would stop off at different kids houses on a rotating basis to empty the fridge and cupboards full of junk food. Lets just say our house was never on the list.

I’m thankful for eating as well as I did back then. And now that I’m a mother myself I am even more inspired by the clever ways my mother tackled food back then - to feed her kid.

Dear Hubs,

A Father’s Day tribute…from the archives.

As you may recall this photo was taken a few minutes after our daughter was born. At the time I wanted to be one of those badass women that takes a photo of her own baby being born (minus the gross parts). Wasn’t happening. It didn’t matter in the end because this photo was my favorite of all and the video of this same moment - you talking to our baby girl for the first time – forget it. I can’t watch the video without 75 tissues at hand.

Even though the photo is still and non-moving I bet others can tell what a moving moment this was. Our daughter was born. You became a father. The hustle and bustle of the room had finally turned from doctors and nurses and tubes and STUFF to the quiet sounds of our little daughter making her snorts and squeaks. We were finally a family.

And Christ – sorry about the socks. Remember those? Neon orange socks from the dollar store? I’m surprised the doc was even able to birth Lilian and was not blinded by the mere sight of them. But they were so warm on those cold hospital floors. And those cinder block swollen feet that you rubbed for months - I thank you.

I thank you for all of it. For your amazing ability to love our daughter the way I love her. And you.

We love you.
Happy Father’s Day.
Hap-py

xo wife

About three years ago I called my friend with twins. I was kid-less at the time. I called mid-day (prob some inconvenient hour) munching on my sushi lunch from my work desk. I called to discuss how distraught I was about my new haircut.

I then launched into big picture thoughts about my career and what path I possibly wanted to follow next. I finished the conversation by telling her I needed to go soon because I had an early yoga class after work but needed to return a new dress I bought (too big) first so had to run. Today and only today…did it strike me as to how totally… annoying I must have been to talk to.

If my friend at the time was anything like me now - I would be…

-starving because I hadn’t had time to feed myself all day much less sushi

-hadn’t had a haircut in MONTHS - bangs hanging into eyes - any haircut would be welcome

-career? what’s that?

-yoga? does playing flying airplane with a baby count?

-clothes too big? um…currently they can’t be big enough

My friends that had kids before me have ALWAYS taken my calls. Even though they had kids they were still my girls - the ones that were there for me through thick and thin. But now that I am on the other side I see WHY they took my calls. Because people with no kids are totally self absorbed and are totally interesting and fascinating to talk to and provide amazing free entertainment. How do I know? Because I was one of them.

You think I am being mean. I actually am not. I sincerely mean this. I sincerely mean it when I tell you to sit on the phone and listen to a gal pal talk about shoe shopping or a recent date or a great new indie film she caught the other night is better than porn. My life is so boring and dull in social life comparison. The time I used to spend HOURS debating if I should take a spin class on Friday nights or a yoga class on Thursday nights is now used to do a load of wash, send three emails, download pix to send to the grandparents, return one phone call in silence without a kid screaming in background, scoop up tiny socks strewn about the house and maybe if I have time pee because often I’ve been meaning to pee for hours but frankly…just don’t have time.

Looking back the best thing and the wisest thing and the absolutely most spot on thing my friend with twins said to me at the time was this:

Well…I have some good news for you. NONE…none of this matters when you have a kid. Why? You have no time…at all…whatsoever…ever…to think about any of this.

And thank god. Phew. What a relief!

She was TOTALLY right.

Lili,

Every Tuesday at 10:30AM you and I attend a free class at the Brooklyn library called “Babies & Books”. And it is quite a scene - let me tell you.

The first time I even heard about it was when I was originally going to the library to check out Jhumpa Lahiri’s new book despite the fact I get to read one page ever seven days. I was in the check out line and had you propped up on the counter digging in my purse for my library card when the woman asked me if I knew about the Babies & Books program. We’ve been going ever since.

As most of the kid classes are that I attend during the week for you/us - the room is often filled with nannies and kids. The children’s librarian is a sweet and enthusiastic woman and despite the wide range of ages of the kids she somehow manages to wrangle them for their full attention which I find impressive.

There are books read and bubbles blown and songs sang. One of your favorite songs is about books:

The more we read together…together…together

The more we read together the happier we’ll be

Because MY books are YOUR books and YOUR books are MY books

The more read together the happier we’ll be..

Books especially have always been such an important part of my life ever since I was a child. I poured through books and my parents would find me late at night reading under the covers with a tiny book light. By the age of seven I was rating my books with stars as to their appeal and even now I find it amusing to look at some of my books from childhood and turn to the back page and see what rating I have given it:

5 stars (and a drawing of stars)

2:30AM (time I finished book)

Kristen Duncan Williams (signature)

For whatever reason there is always one point in the library program we attend where my eyes fill with tears and I get a little choked up. I think at times it still hits me how lucky I am to have you here Lili. Feel your squishy little chunky legs in my hands and squeeze you tightly.

On Thursdays and Fridays you are with Super Nanny and I have started to bring my laptop to the library to write. It is a beautiful, old place with huge windows and lots of sunlight. Currently I am pouring through a collection of essays I have written over the years and am trying to refine. Lately the project has made me feel creatively alive again. Celebrating the “non-mom” part of me that I need to cling to at times to remind me of my whole being. Something I need to do for myself and you and Dad in order to be myself again while I am with all of you. It’s been a while.

A friend of mine used to be in a pop punk band. Her songs were never too angry, dark or full of too much rage but definitely had an edge. She said something that has stuck with me since about how she ditched her old guy, quit her job, fell in love and moved to Paris and was left all happy and lovey dovey with nothing more to be angry, emotionally distraught and what she thought at the time…creative about. I can relate.

Now what?

Yesterday morning - quite early - we got a knock on the door. I wasn’t convinced it was a knock since the AC was blasting and Lili you were crying. So I ignored it. Soon after I got a cell phone message from Super Nanny - it was her day off,

“Hola Kristen, I left you some tamales at your door. Adios. Hasta luego.”

I opened the door to find a white plastic bag hanging from the knob. Inside the bag were four perfectly delicious tamales wrapped neatly with corn husk ties. Needless to say it was great timing for breakfast.

I speed dialed her back and in my toddler Spanish said,

“Hola! Gracias por los tamales. Muy bien! Hasta luego.”

I feel like a total tool when I attempt to speak Spanish. I also get nervous and my stomach is in knots because I feel like a total idiot. I suppose this is the first step to learning. Super Nanny is good because she plunges forth and talks to me in Spanish regardless. It’s the only way I will learn.

Last week Super Nanny spotted some avocados I had in a white bowl on the kitchen counter. She held them up - one in each hand - and looked down at them thoughtfully as if she were staring into a magic eight ball game.

“These will be ready on Sunday. Get some jalapeños and I’ll show you how to make guacamole”

It was a simple recipe but I followed her exact direction and can I say? It was sooooooo good.

Before we know it Lili you will be speaking fluent Spanish. Then you will ask Super Nanny to teach you how to say things like, “Why can’t my mommy cook as good as you?”

Today we attended a rummage sale in a Brooklyn school yard. It was about 10,000 degrees out. The actress Lili Taylor was there - seemingly unshowered and blending in with her cute baby girl strapped to her chest in a Bjorn. She picked up a baby girl dress the woman was selling,

L: How much?

W: $5

L: Really? Only $5?

(pause)

L: How about $3?

W: (pause) No. $5

Lets hope she does not negotiate her own movie contracts.

Dear Baby Girl,

Today you are 6 months old! Dad remembered first. He said, “Wait…what is today…” We looked on the calendar and sure enough. You are 6 months old today. We can hardly believe it.

If you wondered how we reacted once we realized it we gasped and cheered. We three were all sitting on the couch in the living room. It was about 8AM. Sesame Street was on TV. You were in a bouncy chair. We broke into song singing ‘Happy half month birthday to you…” and then we clapped and cheered some more. You look excited. Then there was a quiet pause. Your Dad turned to me and said, “Hi five.” We slapped hands. We did it. We raised a human. For six months. Neither one of us has done this before. Quite an accomplishment if I do say so myself.

Lili baby…sometimes I don’t remember life without you. When I sit down and think about it life before was beautiful and amazing in its own ways - especially the years alone with your Dad that I will always love and cherish. But there were also big gaps. Holes. Quiet chunks of time that in the worst most tornado storm moments of parenthood I sometimes long for but never truly miss. Life before you especially around the holidays for me was so lonely. No sense of living for someone else’s sake and survival. Thank you for giving this to me. Us.

We love you.

xo

Lilster. Whaz up.

See - that is the way your Dad and I will talk when your dates come to the door so we scare them away and you will be trapped and forced to hang out with us instead on a Friday night as we play Racko and drink Blueberry wine coolers.

No really.

In other news big stuff to update you on:

First Family Sleepover: well…sort of. This was your second. But this was in our little shack on Fire Island that we rent with friends for the summer. Thank god you are still tiny unlike when I was a small girl and my parents rented a place but it was a cabin in the woods of Maine and I thought they were ruining my life. We had a fab time over Memorial Day. You slept in a portable crib next to the bed and when the sun rose we peeked down over the bed and saw your smiling happy face beaming up at us. We picked you up and you got in the big bed. We read a Richard Scary book Dad found in a give away pile by the ferry boat. We walked downtown and got ice cream. I showed you the Bay. We stuck your feet in the sand for the very first time and you liked it. You even took a nap on the beach wrapped in 75 towels (it was cold and I had no fleece). I didn’t think the nap would happen seeing as it was such a strange new place for you. That and the fact that a couple decided to pick up a competitive  and apparently miked game of Prokadima made of oh…I don’t know…rocks…about an inch from your face as you attempted to sleep:

CLACK

CLUCK

CLACK

CLUCK

Thankfully it didn’t stop you.

New bedtime 8:30: You used to go to bed at 7PM. That is now a long and distant memory. Right now as I type this it is 8:01PM. Only 29 minutes to go (we hope). For whatever reason this is the time you want to sleep now so hey - we’re going with it.

Sleeping on side: You now sleep on your side like an adult. It’s funny to walk in and see a sleeping baby sleeping like an adult. One night I found you on your belly with ear to the mattress. It’s how I sleep. Sleep sounds good. My eyes are heavy as I type the word sleep. I’d better stop writing about this whole sleep thing or I’ll….zzzzzzzzzzz

Milk In A Cup Is Hilarious: you still hate the bottle. as in…Super Nanny who you took THREE WHOLE bottles from on your first day with can no longer give it to you. You refuse. The other day she and I poured milk in a plastic cup and you gripped a hand on each side and guzzled milk and then would SIGH and pant and then crack up with milk all over your face and bib and then take another sip and do the same thing. It was like a comedy act. An entirely too long comedy act as in…if this milk were in a bottle we would be done by now…but instead we patiently let you take your time. Next time I may bring out the cane and pull you offstage. I am practicing a Sippy cup with you but all you do is chew it and don’t know how to raise it up so it pours down your throat. I sometimes feel like I am programming a robot and testing it out and rewiring you after each experiment. Hopefully that does not sound creepy. Small Wonder.

Manicure Please: every since you were a tiny tiny baby you loved when we file your nails which is exactly what a baby should not like which I find funny. Now you are TOTALLY into it and when you see the nail file you spread your fingers out in a fan and as I file each finger you totally crack up and smile like, “Dude…this whole slave to a baby thing is only getting so much better!” What next…an eyebrow wax?

World’s Cutest Baby: when we are out in public and I free you from your stroller - note the word free - you are the happiest baby in town. You cry cry cry in your stroller and then when I pick you up instantly you are like a prisoner released on bail and you are laughing and smiling and making friend with everyone around you totally putting on the charm. I think you would high five people if you could. Really. Yesterday you flashed a huge gummy to a man with a gold tooth standing on the corner with a meat slicer. You have no enemies. I admire this.

Dad or Bust: I remember feeling like this with my Dad but anytime you are with him you look so happy. Sometimes he will hold you and you will turn your head over to me and look at me and smile and just have that look as in, “Yeah…that’s right. He loves me” and it is cute and adorable. Now give him back.

Swing: you still love the swing in the park crowded with 55 kids per square inch. The place is a madhouse but it is still fun to bring you there. You do this cute thing which is hang your elbow and hand off the side of the swing and yawn as in, “Yeah…I do this all the time” Today they had the sprinklers on and I watched the little ones run in and out of the water screaming. It was so Sesame Street and I got excited for you to one day do the same.

Books: you still LOVE books and we read them all the time. Mostly board books which you chew when you get bored.  Get it? Bored? Board? Ba da dum. Today we started something where I lay out the books on the floor and say, “Which book do you want to read? This one? This one? This one?” and then there is a long pause and I watch your eyes carefully look at each one until you reach a hand out and I pick the one you seem to be staring at up. You look TOTALLY shocked when I do this which makes me laugh like, “Woah…she TOTALLY read my mind…”

I love you more and more each day little one. You, Dad and I are total buddies. Thanks for this crazy ride.

xo

Today we - my friend Amy, Lili and I went to a pit of hell otherwise known as our storage unit off of Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn. Amy was coming along to help me watch Lili and hopefully to score some empty boxes for her upcoming move.

We took a car service. This is what you do in Brooklyn when you don’t have a car. You call car services that come and whisk you to and fro like you are Donald Trump with your own car and driver. It’s sort of surreal when you think of it. Going to run day to day errands while Geeves opens your door.

The storage facility is a place where I might not even take my worst enemy. It is dirty and disorganized. Things are broken there constantly - like today - the elevators bringing you to your storage unit - oh and the cart that you need to wheel your crap to and fro. The hours they are open are also horrible like  6-7:45AM on Sundays. It’s great.

Our storage bin is FULL of who knows what. Boxes and boxes of clothes and Christmas ornaments and winter clothes and papers but mostly someone’s LP collection and amps. I will not mention names. Only that they do not belong to me or Lili. Tee hee.

I went on a mission to search for my summer clothes. I was pregnant last summer so I only imagined what I might unveil - size fetus clothing that I used to wear pre-pregs when I was young and hot and tan. Ok maybe not tan. But it was worth the try. Everything in my dresser currently is maternity wear still and it is totally embarrassing! Agh. I need a makeover. Tim Gunn and Veronica Webb to come to my house and tear it all to shreds on national TV.

Lili behaved pretty well although had a few crying fits which stopped immediately when I gave her the piece of paper with our storage bin code on it which she put in her mouth and I pretended I didn’t see. When I wasn’t looking she was sucking on the dirty string that you pull down the storage gate with (great). As Amy said after we looked at Lili with a long pause,

A: Lil…I don’t how you managed to find the dirtiest item in all of Brooklyn to suck on…but you did.

When I got home I weeded through the clothes and they mostly brought back tons of memories of early dating years with my husband. Sniff sniff. Sometimes I miss the two of us - just us. No offense to my beautiful, amazing and wonderful daughter. As I pulled out the clothing items I could recall photos of me wearing the various clothes when I was the center of my husband’s photographic eye. A tank top I wore in Mexico taken in a cake shop. A shirt I wore on the top of a hill at The Storm King Arts Center. A skirt I wore in in the park one sunny day when figuring out where to get our next beer was our only concern.

There was another box that snuck in somehow that contained a few items from my summer maternity wear. Woah. I forgot how big I was and I put some of the things on to remember how it felt. I also became very sentimental. Remembering the feeling of ‘the unknown’ and not sure if we were going to have a boy or girl or when exactly they would come. Each piece of clothing I pulled out reminded me of when the baby first kicked or the feeling of my husband’s hand on my stomach.

In the past I’ve never been good with unknowns. Never had the natural ability to ‘go with the flow’. My mind, my body - everything in my soul resists it until I drain myself to exhaustion trying to control it. As a mother I think this has been my hardest struggle with motherhood. I mean…do the math. 100% of motherhood is about the kid, the baby, these small beings calling the shots - anytime, anyplace, anywhere. None of it is predictable and the small hairs of it that are come as a giant relief. I’m learning.

When I was pregnant a good friend of mine sent me a list of things you need and things you don’t. It was so helpful and I since have been trying to compose my own similar document for expectant Mom friends. The document is full of spelling errors I’m sure but here is the work in progress.

Hope it helps:

babydoc

Here is a list of things you are doing as of late before I forget:

-Putting your own foot in your mouth - literally

-Rolling over all the time on to your stomach and holding your head up high to laugh and look at us

-Wanting to hold the bar of the umbrella when it rains. If in your stroller and I stand above you - you reach your hand out and grunt and complain until I lift you up to do so

-Love going on the swings at the park and smile and coo at the other kids. Love to suck on dirty germ infested swing when I am not looking.

-Staying up later and going to bed at 8:30 not 7:30. I think it is because you like Top Chef and American Idol like Mom does

-Outgrowing your bath in the sink - legs literally dangling off the sides - time for the big tub!

-Shorter naps -20 to 30 mins each only 3 times or maybe 4 a day. Basically this has resulted in our home looking like a hell hole and me never getting back to anyone via email or phone

-Water bottle obsession - LOVE to drink from them and reaching for the water bottles of total strangers

-LOVE drinking cold water from a cup. But just a few sips

-Can’t sit still EVER. Squirming and kicking and bending and rolling and flailing arms around. Our net trip to Mexico should be fun.

-LOVE the computer - obsessed and much touch it at all times. You literally put your hands on the keys and stare at the screen like you are helping your Dad do some Rails programming.

-Laugh when we laugh. Perhaps the best part of all.

Dear Lili,

It’s possible I may have found you the world’s most amazing babysitter otherwise known as Super Nanny. Before I get way too excited we will have to do a trial run but so far things are looking up. We start on Thursday.

Lets just say Lili that our 24/7 liefstyle together is not what I envisioned for us as the best balance for mother and baby. Mama - in order to be the best mother to you - needs a break occasionally. To write. To exercise. To read a book. To see your Dad. Having been sans babysitter for a few weeks now has not allowed this balance and I’m hoping and thinking better times are ahead.

Super Nanny is from Puebla, Mexico. She asked on the interview if it was ok to teach you Spanish - um…YES. (Then you can teach me) Super Nanny also didn’t flinch when you began to cry and stroked your little leg and comforted you. When I spoke of my bottle panic - the fact that you never take a bottle - so that whomever is watching you has to return from wherever they are every two hours - she didn’t blink an eye saying it would be no problem and we’d figure it out. She also asked if you suck on that pacifier all the time and would it be ok to teach you not to need it because she didn’t think it was good. I felt like crying with joy. Help has arrived.

Super Nanny will be watching you and the world’s most adorable almost three-year-old girl together two days a week. I met the little girl. She and Super Nanny wandered over one rainy Monday wearing polka dot and multi-colored striped rain boots. I watched them out the window as they held hands smiling under their oversized rain jacket hoods. Despite the rain - Super Nanny let the little girl stop to splash her boot in a puddle and didn’t rush her.

Lili, I like the idea of you being watched in an older sibling type setting and not only one on one. You get plenty of that from me and Dad and it is important to learn - all of us - that we are not the center of everyone’s adoring attention at all times.

Last week Super Nanny called and invited us over to the fiesta that was being thrown in the park across from our house for her friend a fellow nanny. We wandered over and despite being a little shy at first were welcomed immediately. The scene was several nannies with kids of all ages sitting on their laps or packed tightly to their sides. Super Nanny told me about this group of women - older women, younger women from Guatemala and Mexico - her friends - that get together in the park every day for lunch or go to the different kids houses and cook for the kids. On rainy days there is a Spanish music class they run for kids in the park for free. These women are always together and more or less watching these kids in a little group which I love.

I was offered some sheet cake and food on bright colored paper plates. Everyone was speaking Spanish and laughing and having a good time. There was not a word of English being spoken and the kids at their sides politely said ‘gracias’ and ‘por favor’ when asking or receiving things.

Lili - you amazed me. For the first few minutes you were fine on Super Nanny’s lap and then your bottom lip quivered and you were about to cry. Within seconds about four of the different women noticed and immediately and warmly reached out to you asking, “Qué Pasa Lili?” stroking your little leg or hair until you stopped. After that - I am not lying when I say that you sat contently on Super Nanny’s lap for close to thirty minutes as she cut cake and helped feed another kid. This sounds normal to any other parent but to me it was huge. This was one of the things that has been so hard about putting you down for five minutes or handing you over to someone else. But your big blue eyes took in the new faces and sounds and you never looked happier.

A few minutes later one woman pointed at you Lili and said something funny and everyone laughed. Super Nanny turned to me and said, “They are saying that now Lili is one of us and soon she’ll be saying ‘Adios Mommy. Hasta Pronto.”

I call this one THE BEAST:

Today we attended a wedding shower for my cousin’s bride. It was at a fancy Westchester Yacht Club. A normally 45 minute trip took 3hrs to get there. My poor parents were in the car since 9AM. When we arrived the presents were opened in a flash and then it was time to go home. I felt like crying.

In the car Lili was STARVING. Thinking the trip would only take 45mins I attempted to time the feed. I brought a bottle ‘just in case’. Lili takes a bottle every…oh…I don’t know…month or so. She is five months old. You do the math. SHE HATES IT. I had to pull a Britney Spears and take her out of her car seat to feed her since she refused the bottle. Granted we were literally stuck and not moving in bumper to bumper traffic. But I still felt horrible. Not to mention the fact I was wearing a dress (DUH) that couldn’t be unzipped in order to feed unless I literally removed the entire dress over my head and off my body. In desperation I zipped down the side of the dress and smashed my boob through a tiny hole like I was having a GD mammogram just to get the job done. Kill me now.

When we arrived I had to change THE BEAST into her party dress. She was covered in white vomit so I removed those clothes and threw her in this dress. She was crying and squirming and giving people the evil eye the entire time. Usually my Mom the eternal optimist said, You’re right - she is a beast! And by this we meant her amount of insane energy - never ever wanting to sit still, kicking and screaming and twisting her body, putting her down she wants up, taking her up she wants down, etc. When I would pick her up the stroller would fall back due to the weight of items in the diaper bag and everything would spill out on the ground. This happened 10 times.

I missed the entire 15-20 minutes we were at the shower because I was in the bathroom feeding THE BEAST. When we came out the bride to be was surrounded in torn wrapping paper and people were heading home.

Finally when everyone left I put Lili on the floor to flail around and roll and kick and make her nice new spitting sound which sounds like a cross between a gag and a raspberry. We left her do this for 15minutes to get out her energy before getting back in the car for an hour plus ride home where she slept the entire way making her usual bedtime hour extended to later because she was finally well rested.

Welcome to parenthood.

The End

Um…ok. I just put Lili down for a nap. when I left the room she was…

-in a full swaddle - blanket tightly wrapped around her arms to sides inside blanket
-pacifier in mouth
-legs under mobile and head to left of this photo
-teddy bear was leaning against mobile propped up on crib and not in crib

within 5 minutes of leaving room i hear her in the monitor grunting and babbling and I go in to see her and she is…

-totally out of her swaddle
-pacifier gone and spit out of mouth
-teddy bear in the bed and face down
-in a complete 360 from how i put her down this time her legs where her head was

???

At this rate this kid is ready for her own magic show in Vegas

Hey Lils,

Thanks for chilling out the last two weeks as I attempted to actually cook dinner more -shocking I know. You were world’s greatest baby. You sat in your car seat on the floor while I rushed about the kitchen chopping this, blending that, etc. I talked to you the entire time like a complete mad woman in hopes that you would keep quiet. It was as if I had my own cooking show as I spoke to you like,

And now I’m going to take 1/2 cup of flour and mix it in…stir it but not too hard…

I can’t say you seemed totally thrilled to be sitting there the entire time. In fact your face looked like someone who thought they scored tickets to see Bobby Flay and instead got stuck with Paula Dean.

Regardless I appreciated your patience.

I’ve never been a good cook I have to say but I am looking forward to making your food starting next month. After all it will be my kind of cooking - blending a bunch of crap together and serving it. Just my style.

I have 25lbs of baby fat to lose still. This sucks.

I’ve been pretty skinny-ish most of my life and 25lbs seems insane. I’ve never had to lose that much weight before. Like I need to apply as a contestant on that show ‘The Biggest Loser’ or something where I’ll be sequestered in some spooky small town in America for endless work outs. You know - the kind of show where if I win a challenge I can visit Eliot and Lilian back here in Brooklyn for a day and we can have a crying embrace in the ‘Please Wait To Be Seated’ area of a TGIF’s. The camera can then zoom in on me ordering a salad with oil & vinegar and not my normal ‘Ranch dressing’ with ‘bacon bits’ and then after another teary embrace it’s back to training for me. Oh yes.

I don’t mean to sound selfish for those that have struggled with weight issues their entire life. For me however - for my body type - this just happens to be a hefty personal challenge from what I am used to.

For the last two weeks I’ve been without a nanny since we had to let ours go. Instead I turned to cooking to fill the time which I have to say hasn’t helped the waistline. I’ve made everything from heavy cream and cheese quiches to five alarm Indian curry. Let’s just say dude…time to give it a rest.

I desperately needed a break today and asked the old nanny if she was free to babysit for the day (we remained on good terms). She came over bright and early. The doorbell rang. Lili and I greeted her downstairs and as we opened the door she pulled her head back astonished saying in a thick Trinidadian accent, “Wow! You’re so FAT! What happened?”

Thanks. Way to start the day. Luckily Lili literally burst into tears at the mere site of the woman (cause of nanny change) and wouldn’t stop hysterically screaming for the next 15 minutes/entire day. I silently considered it payback for her comment. But I still went up and changed my shirt anyway.

Later in the day I ran an errand. The nanny spotted me from across the street and called me on her cell phone, “Man you is soooo FAT! I sees you comin’ here cross the street lookin’ SO THICK and I say to myself is that her? NO WAY!”

I paused. Ok…honestly. I said, “Well…if I had more time to myself maybe I could work out.” She nodded. After she said this I pretended I didn’t care but I went home and changed my shirt. Again.

Even later in the day we had two more lovely exchanges. One was when I was explaining to her when to put Lili down for a lap and noticed she wasn’t listening and was instead focusing on my temples.

Me: What are you looking at?

Her: Oh…I see you have the grey hairs.

And lastly - while sitting on a bench after joining Lili and her briefly in the park on my way to run an errand we were soaking up the sun and enjoying people watching for a moment when she said breaking the silence,

“Tell me…I need to make my legs thicker…more fat. How do you do it?”

Babies can be dumb. But hey - nobody cares because they are just so darn cute.

Here is the evidence:

• despite sucking on a pacifier - they will attempt furiously to shove things in their mouth such as toys, books, etc. When they can’t do this they will cry and scream and flail their arms and legs and flash you a dramatic look worthy of an Oscar and not unlike my tantrums in high school on a bad hair day as if to say, “WHY? WHY is this happening to me?????

• while nursing - babies get momentarily startled when Mom talks for like…five seconds and mid-sentence they will whip their head off the boob with milk streaming down their face totally startled and freeze there for a moment like a close up of a person in a horror film complete with bottom quivering lip and then seconds later crack a smile and look up at you breathing a sigh of relief like, “Oh phew…dude…you totally scared me…what are you doing here?”

• they learn how to take the pacifier out of their mouth and start to cry. you put it back in. they take the pacifier out and start to cry. you put it back in. (repeat this fifty seven thousand times per day)

• they talk to a coat rack - like it’s a total BFF. you watch as they laugh awkwardly and babble to the coat rack. they flap their arms at their sides like a dolphin. you feel embarrassed for them somehow as if you just witnessed the biggest nerd in school trying to make friends with the jaded teen smokers.

• when hungry - they will turn their head to the side as if a milky tit will magically appear from the sky - which it often does - but still. they will do this to a pillow, a blanket, a magazine, a friend of yours and sometimes embarrassingly enough to someone like oh…I don’t know… your Dad - their grandfather which causes everyone to have that conversation no one hopes to have, “oh ha ha - we know what she wants!” (blush)

If there is one thing I STILL can NOT get used to about being a Mom it is the fact that I am vomited on over eight times a day. For those of you without kids let me really break it down for you.

The vomit I am talking about is white, stringy, chunky mucus clumps that smell like rotten milk. When the barf comes a flowin’ it is literally like someone has poured a half gallon of rotten half and half mixed with rotten cottage cheese chunks over your neck and chest and hair and shirt and pants and hands, etc. Sometimes this happens in public which is fun.

Take today for example. I had Lili in the Bjorn and she was facing outwards. Everyone was staring at her in the store and because I’m her proud Mom I thought it was because she is just so darn cute. When we got home I looked in the mirror with her still strapped in and much to my horror I see her covered in white vomit from head to toe. She had spread it all over her face with her hands while I was shopping and didn’t know it. She looked like she had just participated in a white vomit pie eating contest. And let me tell you…she was the winner.

Babies are like old college buddies. The kind that hang out with you all day…drinking (milk) in the sun. Then on your walk home back to the dorm (apartment) they are all…clinging to your neck and more or less like, “I love you man!” (goo goo ga ga) only to seconds later spew up on you in a total vomit bath of hell.

Lili - barfing all over Mama may be gross but despite it all - I still love you man.

Dear Lili,

I like to watch your face when I swing you at the park. You often sit there quietly swinging back and forth looking around but every once in a while your eyebrows raise when you hear something that I imagine is familiar to you in some way and sometimes you ‘talk’ back afterwards. Around you there are Moms and Dads and Babysitters saying things like:

PEEK-A-BOO!

WEEEEEEEEEEE!

A…B…C…D…E…F…G…

I can’t imagine what this experience is like for a baby. Living in your tiny baby world not able to verbally communicate yet but starting to hear familiar sounds and words. I imagine it’s not unlike being in a foreign country with a language you don’t speak. Only grabbing the occasional word like, “blah blah blah New York blah blah blah blah”.

I am so curious what your first word/words will be. Mine were ‘bad dog’ (I’m not kidding) and your father’s was ‘button’.

Kind of sums up your parents somehow now doesn’t it?

xo

Lili,

If we haven’t told you by now you love music.

I’ve been singing to you since birth. Mostly old Mexican love songs by Pedro Infante. I don’t speak Spanish very well but you don’t seem to mind. In fact you seem to almost recognize certain songs now at the start of the guitar intro - especially when we sing ‘Cielito Lindo’. Your favorite part…

Ay, ay, ay, ay,
Canta y no llores,
Porque cantando se alegran,
Cielito lindo, los corazones.

(Ay, ay, ay, ay,
sing and don’t cry,
for hearts are happy, heavenly one,
when singing.)

Your Dad has also been singing to you too but mostly to the tune of punk songs with fictional baby friendly lyrics. I’ll be sure to write some of those lyrics down the next time I spy on you two and he belts one out while giving you a bath.

When you were in my belly I didn’t do what you see on TV where Moms put headphones on their stomach for the baby’s listening pleasure. Instead I played music off my laptop while writing and would balance the computer on my huge belly. When the music played you seemed to dance around immediately. Then again who knows. You were probably struggling to get away from my lame musical choices not unlike your father. Hey - what’s wrong with a little Ashley Simpson now and again?

What reminded me of music is that as I type this our neighbor upstairs is practicing scales on her cello directly above your nursery. She is a cello teacher. You don’t seem to mind the music pouring into your nursery on and off throughout the day. In fact I think you like it - I know I do. Just the other morning there was an odd tune coming from above your changing table. It started off softly and grew in volume and intensity until I realized it was the famous tune from the movie JAWS…the cello version:

Da dun

Da dun

(faster) Da dun da dun da dun da dun da dun DAAAAAAAA

It’s not often you can say you change your baby to the theme song of JAWS.

Shortly after - I heard a few familiar rounds of the theme from Star Wars. A while later when taking out the trash I was relived to see a ten-year-old boy winding his way down the steps with a large, black cello case strapped to his back and not my former ex-boyfriend from college.

Sometimes I wonder if music will be part of your life as much as it was mine and your father’s too. Your Dad was much cooler than I was. He played in a pop-punk band that put out several records. One day when you are older you can google Dad and his band Sinkhole and see photos of him screaming into a microphone, jumping off amps and wearing shirts that I’ve since been trying to hide in the back of his closet.

Your Mom was more of a classical musical geek - with a sexy edge. Ha. Since the age of seven I rode my bicycle once a week to a flute lesson or was being driven (unwillingly) to a piano lesson. I played in the pit bands for all the school plays. I played second chair flute in large orchestras for state musical competitions. I played in the marching band. Then in high school I went on to learn drums attempting to redeem myself from musical geekdom. In college and afterwards I continued on to learn guitar and bass. In fact your mother played bass guitar briefly in a pop-punk band called Stupid and ‘played out’ (see…I know the lingo) at such venues as Brownie’s and Mercury Lounge and Don Hills - places you will never know and most likely be mortified by when you get older. If you google Mom’s old band you will most likely NOT find any photos of me jumping off amps but rather ones of me looking like the world’s most uptight, pop-punk bass player who despite a little too much Vodka was still worrying about her fingering and not just ‘going with it man…’

I hope music will be part of your life Lili and to be honest I’m not sure what I think about the whole making your kid go to music lessons if they resist. Who knows. When the time comes we’ll cross that bridge or…jump that amp when we come to it.

Dear Lili,

I’m sorry that every time I bring you to the playground and wait for the one baby swing that is available (all of the others are for big kids) and finally put you in it - that you are often the center of attention by all Moms, Dads and babies alike that stare at you like you are a freak of nature because you are little and small. I HATED being the center of attention as a young child much less adult so I’m sorry if in any way I brought this on.

Today at the park we were swinging next to a Mom and baby. The Mom was somewhat obnoxious I have to say. She kept saying to her small son swinging in the swing adjacent to you, “Bobby, what is THAT? Huh? What is THAT?” (That = you Lilian aka baby). Clearly the Mom was trying to encourage her young son to say ‘baby’ but 50,000 times later after “What is THAT Bobby? See THAT? Look at THAT. Next to you…what is THAT?” I nearly had a meltdown and ripped you out of the swing and took you home. I couldn’t take it any longer. Sorry.

Next time we’ll both wear shades and pretend we are French and don’t speak any English.

xo

Last weekend I attempted to let Eliot sleep in while I took Lili out for an early morning stroll. It was cool and still darkish and cloudy. Once we hit the streets we ran into the Dad of a Mom friend in my Mom’s group strolling around their adorable little son. We chatted and strolled our way up the street to the coffee shop where we both ordered a coffee and oops…I had no money on me. The kind Dad offered to pay. Thank god. Much needed. Lili and I strolled home.

When we got back Eliot joined us on the stoop.

E: Where did you guys go?

K: To get a coffee. But I had no money and my friend’s husband had to buy me a coffee

E: What?! Great. It’s only 9AM and you’ve already been on a DATE! (kidding)

K: What?! No…hahahaha

E: Well ok…but at least hanging out with a responsible, up early Dad with money. Even worse.

Dear Lili,

As I type this you are in your crib wearing only a diaper and I am in a bra. It’s about one thousand degrees in the apartment. We couldn’t get more red neck right now. Maybe later we can cart a broken fridge out to the front yard.

I wanted to write you a list of some things you are doing as of late so we don’t forget. When I was pregnant people said I’d forget everything and boy…I did. Now what is my excuse? Wait…where was I?

LAUGHING: you have been SO shy and coy with your laughing. All the other babies of Moms I talk to say their babies are laughing laughing laughing. And you on OCCASION give us a little hearty giggle or smile behind your fist in your mouth hiding from us. But when you do - oh my god - the three of us all can’t stop laughing. Currently when we say GOOGLE (geeks) and PEE PEE (just funny).

INCHING: you have been rolling on to your stomach from your back with such grace as of late that it’s like…whatever. The impressive thing you’ve started to do now is to scrunch your knees under and put your butt in the air inching your arms forward and grunting. You are clearly attempting to start your way towards crawling. It’s wild. What next? An allowance?!

SQUIRMING: you hardly ever sit still anymore because you want to go go go. There is no more relaxing strolls in the stroller or reading books in the bouncey chair or playing on the play mat, etc. When placed in those contraptions you arch your back and kick your legs and roll side to side and cry and fuss until we pick you up. You want up - and out! This is a little bit hard of a stage for me as your Mom I must confess because you are too big and heavy for a sling, too little to put your legs through the Ergo backpack if I carry you, etc. I don’t know - it’s a little hard to get stuff done I have to say but hey. I love you just the way you are.

FOOD/DRINK: You are still breastfeeding. Now when you drink for a few minutes you pull away violently and milk spurts and you look around and often babble and then chomp back on just as violently as you came off. It’s sort of the ‘coffee talk’ of breastfeeding. You still think it is hilarious when we eat food and STARE at us and STARE at us as we chew. I occasionally give you a sip of water from my cup but not a lot - in fact - hardly a sip. You show such interest in it when I pour a cup for myself. Soon enough you’ll be eating corn dogs and drinking Bud Light just like Dad - hard to believe.

All for now. Off to make a squirrel sandwich.

xo

What’s up with kid clothes ? - especially girls.

Today I was with a friend shopping at Target looking for good, cheap kids clothes. You know…simple…nice clothing that is easy to put on and doesn’t shrink down fifty-five sizes when washed. Nuthin’. My neighborhood in Brooklyn is FULL of adorable kid clothing stores but everything in them costs more than a down payment on a house in the suburbs. I swear. My kid that is less than five months old is not wearing a $45 sweatshirt. Sorry.

Kids clothes for girls seem to fall into three categories:

DOLL BABY: these clothes are the elaborate pink and yellow dresses made with lace and stiff fabrics. They often have bows or delicate buttons covered in satin. These clothes are beautiful granted - but are more the kind of clothes a baby might wear in 1932 being pushed around in an elaborate pram wearing a bonnet rather than strapped in a Bjorn boarding a subway with her mother.

DADDY’S LITTLE GIRL: these clothes are CREEPY. What is the deal?! Tons and tons and tons of baby girl clothes are often bubble gum pink - so pink my teeth ache - and read ‘Daddy’s Little Girl’, ‘Daddy’s Little Princess”, “Daddy’s Little Handful”, “Daddy’s Girl”, etc. You don’t see a line of “Mommy’s Little Boy”, “Mommy’s Little Prince”, “Mama’s Boy”. Frankly I find it all very creepy.

BRITNEY SPEARS BABY: these clothes are whorish and disgusting. Call me nuts but I don’t want to dress Lili in a tiny denim mini skirt with a sand blast butt. Or how about that halter top with cherries on it? Or how about the bedazzled jeans or the pink fur hoodie with poms poms and “BABY’S GOT BACK” written in a tattoo script across the back.

After all…there is only room for one slutty dresser in this family and that is going to be me.

Dear Lili,

Today is a very, very important day for us. Today is April 9th, 2008 and today was the very day that I was due back at work full-time. Big news little one. I will not be going back.

I know I know. I can hear your screams of terror. Being stuck with me 24/7 - 7 days a week. When you are older feel free to send me the therapy bill and then I’ll send you mine and all will be well. Hopefully it won’t be mailed to the same address.

Here’s how it happened…

It was late one night. I was feeding you in your dark quiet room. All of the sudden I got lost in my thoughts about returning from maternity leave and a bizarre stream of self-questioning went through my head. What would it feel like to leave you from 8:30AM until 7:30PM with someone else? Who would this person be? Where would I find them? Then I thought of all the amazingly strong Mom friends in my life that have to do this - leave their kids and go back to work due to the nature of their jobs. Then I thought - well wait. I’m a Writer. Can’t I do this from home? No. I’d most likely go nuts. Right? Wouldn’t I? Me…the very same person who when seven months pregnant was asked how my friend’s kid’s bday party was and I said, “Ugh…too many screaming kids.”

Then I ran through a list of things you and I do in a day. What would I be missing by not being around? Then I reflected on my career and how LONG it has taken me to finally find a job I love not to mention working with people I love. Was I ready to give that up for a while? Then I thought of health insurance and wondered if your Dad could cover us? And finally I noticed the spot on the ceiling above your crib where the painter forgot to paint the molding and thought…how annoying. Did he bill me for this?

And then…I got a rush. I got a rush throughout my body not unlike a wave of energy. The super MOM rush - the kind you hear about on the news when a giant tree limb falls on a child and the child’s mother lifts the entire limb on her own from the pure, raw, insane strength from within. I said to myself - this is possible. This is totally possible. I can do this.

Here is the part of the story where I would insert all the gushy emotional boo hoo amazing things about your father’s love and support with this decision Lili but then the guys at the office would make fun of him so I promise to whisper them to you another time.

All I know my little Lili Bird is that you have changed my life in ways I thought I would never imagine. You and your father remind me that I can be me plus a wife plus a Mom plus a Writer. Our lives are constantly growing and shifting together in waves and we three are doing our best to ride them.

This morning you were on your play mat. You rolled to the left, you then rolled a little further to the left and just as I said to myself, “No way is she doing this…” you rolled yourself completely over - on your own - to your belly. I clapped and screamed, “You did it!!!!”.

It was 10AM. I was there. Lucky enough to see it.

xo

Lili,

Last week you were doing something funny which was grabbing your pant legs - one pant leg in each hand - grabbing the fabric below the knees and pulling it towards you. I couldn’t figure out what you were doing until yesterday morning when I saw it was practice to finally lead you to your feet.

Yesterday you officially grabbed your own feet and looked proud. You were on your changing table and you took each of your chubby little hands and grabbed your feet and smiled.

This is a very important milestone in a young woman’s life. Now you just need to learn the second half of this milestone and those are the words, “Can I can a foot rub?”

xo

When I was 9 months pregnant we were smushed into a tiny table with four other strangers eating soup dumplings in Chinatown. They moved two tables so I could squeeze my gigantic belly in.

Half way through our slurping Eliot asked me earnestly, honestly and somewhat wistfully, “Can we do this…when we have a baby?” I knew what he meant. He didn’t mean eat soup dumplings - but sort of. It wasn’t a plan we had made for the day but rather a plan that evolved after a wonderful day of walking around, feeling tired and hungry and finally our bellies (a big belly in my case) getting the best of us.

The truth was - at the time - I didn’t know but I said yes. This is how people survive as a couple. Convincing your spouse that anything is possible even if it isn’t.

After I reassured him with a false confidence - I remember I paused and looked around the crowded room. There was one stroller in back but the baby was bigger and chunky and well fed and being passed around like a delicious appetizer. What about a newborn? When we had a baby I truthfully didn’t know if this was something we could still do. I couldn’t imagine NOT doing the thing we loved to do most together - not make a plan - go do something - which leads to another something - which leads to another something and so on…

This weekend I was Mom’d out. I just couldn’t deal. All week I was ok with my usually tight, predictable and safe schedule. I liked being a Mom. I liked running Mom errands. I liked nursing and cleaning and preparing bottles and making Mom plans with other Moms all week. But on Saturday I was officially Mom’d out. I just wanted to sleep in with my husband. Drink caffeine all day. Get a massage. Write. Grab my camera. Tell people to shut up. Was that bad?

Lili woke up unusually early. 5AM. She was a beast. Adorable - yet like a writhing boa constrictor. She was totally out of my control and squirming her body into different positions and never satisfied. Put her in her chair = wanted up. Sling = out. Nurse = wanted up. Put her on her play mat = wanted up. In her crib = wanted out. The only thing that satisfied her was to be glued to my hip like a little monkey. Literally a little monkey clinging to my body turning her head left and right to view the world from my left hip. Happy and satisfied.

When Eliot woke up we made a plan. It was sunny and spring like. We packed the kid up and hit the streets. ‘Where are we going?’ Eliot asked. Lili asked too - but with her wide eyes looking up at me. The truth was I didn’t know. I didn’t have answers for them. I only knew I needed to keep us walking without a plan. It was best for us.

Our travels found us on a brief subway ride. A long walk to Chinatown. A stroll into a crowded restaurant for soup dumplings. A long walk over the Manhattan bridge and a late night dinner at a friend’s house bringing Lili over in her pajamas.

Looking back I was so proud of us all. A happy husband with a full belly. A baby that squawked only once the entire day - at the restaurant.

Who could blame her really. Like her Mama she wanted up and out.

Not to miss a single thing.