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!”