KDUNK

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.