All That Time/ Coffins at Dover

Some recent photos of coffins from Iraq and Afghanistan, being flown home to the US via Dover Air Force Base, gave me this thought: that every adult that dies was once a baby, and someone invested so much time in them.

The photos are the first to be allowed of the coffins in 18 years. I was paging through the photos, which are actually pretty repetitive: coffin, draped in flag, being unloaded, a soldier in full uniform standing beside it. But what I saw was: young man inside, who was probably just 22 years ago, a little baby being gazed at and held by his mom. It made me really sad to think that inside that coffin were years and years of a parent's time, energy and love.

After Mommy and Me Yoga last week, two other women and I went to lunch with our babies. The Swedish woman has her baby sleep under a quilt (evidently Swedish mommies are way more easygoing than American ones!) which clearly goes against SIDS rules: sleep on the back, no quilts or blankets in the crib. She mentioned that once they can turn and lift their heads, babies are less at risk for suffocating. The other woman then said that when she was little, a cousin of hers had a baby who died of SIDS at 4 months, and that for the couple's next baby, they watched it on a video monitor at all times if it was sleeping in a different room. Her point was that four months had sounded pretty young to her, but now that she was holding her own three month old, she could tell that he was already his own little person. I added, "Yeah, and you know how much time you've already invested." Of course, we changed topics pretty quickly after that, because the idea of SIDS is just horrifying. You can't think much about that, or you'd never sleep.

Babies certainly do give you a new perspective. Examples:
1. Thinking of the soldiers in the coffins as grown up babies, rather than just adult men.
2. I keep thinking these days, that even the world's worst adult was still once a perfect little baby. It really puts bad people in perspective, and you have to wonder how they end up that way. It has to be the parents' fault, because babies are just angels personified.
3. I'm going to stop going into banks, because banks in my city get robbed every few months, and in-person banking is just not worth that risk. If I were in a bank with Q, and a robber came in, I would lose my mind. (I'm tempted to start packing heat, seriously.)
4. I freaked out when I saw a baby bird struggling to fly near a store this week. I was trying to figure out who to call, because I had to do something. Other passersby were useless, so I ended up calling my vet (crying), and they gave me a wildlife #. I was totally seeing that bird as a baby that needed help, and I was freaking out because I was worried I'd try to ignore it, then not be able to forget it.

(Then, the bird got under a lady's car, and I wouldn't let her drive away until I ensured it wasn't under her car. She even got on the ground to check with me. She was the most compassionate person I encountered, besides the kind receptionist at my vet. Then, I didn't know where the bird was, so the problem was solved. I'm going to assume it learned to fly and flew successfully away.)

Yeah, sometimes it's challenging being me, but it works for me, and I like it. Click here to read full entry.

"Mommy" and "Mommying": Infantilizing Words?

I cannot stop calling myself and the other women in my Mom's group "mommies." I didn't use to talk like that, and that word probably would have grossed me out a few months ago. "Mommy" sounds infantile, yet it sounds right for what I and the other women in my hospital's New Moms groups are doing. Mommies sound young and new, and that's what we are. We are really still in the learning phase. Just in the past few weeks, month 3 of Q's life, do I feel fully confident in getting him to sleep and taking him out in public without any disasters (you know, taking him out when he's too tired so he cries and cries, or forgetting my wallet in the car at the grocery store).

"Moms" sound experienced. Once we go back to work, maybe we'll be Moms, but right now, I spend my days lilting around town. Life with one new kid is blissfully simple (um, after the mildly hellish first few weeks of recovery and sleep deprivation). I'm going to baby yoga, I'm lunching with other moms, I'm going to various Mom's groups. The hardest thing I do is going to the grocery store with the baby. Come on, that's "mommying!" I'm a "mommy." This is a piece of cake. I know it won't always be this easy, so I am going to enjoy this. Later on, I'll be a competent, serious "Mom" who has big problems to worry about (like trying to balance work with family life- I'm not looking forward to that).

I worry that my new way of talking will put off my friends who don't have kids. I'll have to watch myself. Just yesterday, saying goodbye to a friend, I caught myself almost talking to her in my Baby Q voice. I was mixing up adult affection with baby affection. Whoops. That's OK. I'm still pretty new! Click here to read full entry.

Dumb Daddies, Trendy "Bad" Parents, My Obsessiveness, I'll Shoot You Dead

I enjoyed this guest post on Lisa Belkin's New YorkTimes blog Motherlode, which is a must read for parents who want to keep up on the latest buzz and controversies in the (urban/suburban) parenting world. "Neanderdad" seems to portray a clueless daddy whose 3 year old can care for the new baby better than him. Or, as readers posted in the comments, is it more a commentary on moms who "overparent"- whatever the hell that means. I'm defensive about that because if there is such a thing as overparenting, I do it. "Can you monitor his poop while I make my oatmeal?" I've been known to ask my husband. But that just makes sense. Either he does a huge, loud, dramatic poop, or he doesn't, but I want to know so I can stop waiting for the poop explosion (because it happens every morning) and get on with my day. (Of course, my husband refuses, and sputters, "No, I will not monitor his poop! Get out of here!" Oh, we have some laughs in this household. And some tears.)

The latest buzz is about being a "bad parent" being trendy- like, saying your kids don't rule you, and not letting your baby take over your life. All I know is, this baby is my angel, and I'd shoot any of you people dead if it came down to a choice between you and my baby. You know, like if a crazy killer made me choose. That's the kind of things new moms lie in bed thinking about, by the way. I would not shoot your children, but I'd shoot you. Like, easily. Like, it's a good thing this is a gun-free household, because I'd do anything for this baby.

But I understand the idea of not being a slave to your kid- I just wouldn't want anyone to think I'm a "slave" if like, I always want to give him what he needs. My husband advocated "balance" on this issue, and I said, "Have you ever known me to be a balanced person in anything? Remember when I took that writing class in the summer, and afterwards, you asked me to never take a class again?" I totally ignored him for a month while I hunched over my laptop obsessively researching and editing- interrupted by a couple freakouts about not finishing pieces in time.

I was also completely obsessed with my nephew when he was first born, so to think I wouldn't obsess over my own kid, well, that's denying a facet of my personality. Obsessing over things is my thing. It gives me great joy to leap into a subject, sometimes to the exclusion of other things. When I started my blog, I worked on it full time. When I was into healthy eating a few years ago, I was really into that. And my baby is way cooler than a salad. I want to enjoy this time with my baby before I have to go back to work in January, so if I take it to an extreme occasionally... it's because I feel pretty strongly about him.

But, I do understand that I still need to spend time with my husband. But come on, you do have to admit, a baby's babyhood is pretty precious and quickly evolving, and an adult, well, if you miss a month of them, you don't miss that much. Like, my desire to visit my middle sister every few months- it's not exactly to see her. (No offense, A.) I can talk to her on the phone and get in great conversations and keep up with her life. I need to see her children, who grow and change so rapidly that I could sob just thinking about it. Missing so much of their childhood kills me. My sisters being far away, do I like it? No. Can I deal? Yes. My niece and nephews being far away, can I deal with it? Not really. Having my own kid now distracts me from the despair I feel at not seeing them enough, but if I think about it, that deep sadness is there. So, I try not to think about it.

What am I blabbing about? Oh yes, my obsessiveness. And, being a slave to your kid vs. being a "bad parent" who doesn't let their kid rule their life. My point is that if I seem obsessive about my baby, it's because I know how much I'm going to be missing when I go back to work in January. It might be making me a little crazy, but I don't think I've ever been a very balanced person. That's part of my charm.

You know, balance does sound pretty good. Appreciating your kid, and enjoying them, and meeting their needs while enjoying all the other parts of adult life. Maybe I'll get there when he's like, two. Right now I am really enjoying toting my precious little package around... every second of every day. Click here to read full entry.

Breastfeeding: Way Better Than I Expected

I thought breastfeeding was going to stink because I'd heard such bad things about it. I did have a problem or two during the first week, but I got help on day 5 from the lactation consultant at the hospital and she got me back on track.
There is a lot I could say about this subject, but I'll summarize and say that I've been surprised at how I've felt about breastfeeding.

For example, at Baby Q's two month appointment, the nurse said, "You're breastfeeding?"
"Yup!" I said.
"Any supplements?"
"Nope!" And I was surprised by the rush of pride I felt at telling her, it's just my milk. It's just my milk that's making this baby grow.

I was also surprised at how angry I was- just a flash of anger that I quickly tamped down because I knew it was unnecessary- when my husband suggested giving Baby Q an ounce or two of formula one night when Q was being cranky and wanting to eat and eat and not fall asleep. This was about a month ago.
Me (tired, at end of rope, approaching 11pm): "I don't know why this baby won't go to bed!"
Corey: "Well, do you want to give him some formula?"
He had heard that formula makes babies sleep, and I think he was also thinking I was tired of breastfeeding Q.
Me (feeling really pissed for a second, then realizing that was a crazy way to feel): "Mmmm... No. I'll just keep feeding him."

I forget how the rest of the conversation went, but I felt inside me a renewed determination to trust that my baby was hungry and just needed to eat, or needed me to help him go to sleep, or just wasn't tired. I let my husband make the bottle in case I did lose it, but I kept breastfeeding Q, and he fell asleep.
And actually, I wasn't angry at my husband- I was angry at myself for getting frustrated with my baby. And I was very, very tired. But being told I had a way out reminded me that I did not want that way out. Rationally, I understand that formula is fine, but I didn't want to open that avenue for fear I'd rely on it, lessen my milk production, and be unable to breastfeed my baby.

I don't mean to make my husband look bad. Several other times, when Q was being cranky and wanting to eat and eat, the conversation went like this:
Me (tired, at end of rope, approaching 11pm): "I don't know why this baby won't go to bed! He just wants to eat and eat. Maybe I don't have enough milk."
Corey: "He's just a growing boy."
This happened more than once: me questioning if I had enough milk, and my husband saying, sure you do.
And I think I do. The baby is growing, so... it's all working out.

Breastfeeding is hard because you really have to trust yourself and your baby. You have to trust that you have milk, and you have to trust that your baby is hungry if he wants to eat. (Even though it's like, the 6th hour of breastfeeding that day. Believe me- I kept track of the minutes the first few weeks.)
There is a big learning curve with breastfeeding. The first couple weeks are hard because you're tired, you're sore, you're worn out, you're hormonal. It really smooths out after the first month though. And I'd say, from the beginning, it went well for me, because I headed off the couple of problems I encountered the first week by visiting and calling the lactation consultants. I love them.

You've also got to have the right supplies for breastfeeding:
1. Brest Friend nursing pillow
2. Medela lanolin for your sore boobs (that goes away after a few weeks)
3. Boob pads- I prefer disposable bc I haven't found washables that I like
4. Good nursing cover so you can feed your hungry baby when your husband's friends are over
5. Trashy magazines, laptop, iPhone, so you always have something fun to do while baby is on the boob (TV is OK, but I don't like my baby to hear TOO much crap while he's eating- plus our TV is downstairs and that couch is too deep to breastfeed comfortably)

I will say, here is what is stressful about breastfeeding: you're the only one who can do the job of feeding the kid. Frankly, I take great pride in that. I want to be the most important person in my kid's life. I'm selfish and obsessive like that. Plus, on a more practical level, I'm not working: breastfeeding is my job. I want to do that job. I think I'm good at it, so I feel good about doing it.
But it is hard being the one who has to get up every 2, 3, or 4 hours at night- you simply can't sleep if the baby wants to eat. That hasn't been a problem for me yet. I'm not working, and I'm not going to work until he's 10 months old. I don't feel stressed about getting him to sleep through the night yet. I'm perfectly fine feeding him whenever he wants to eat. It would be so shitty if I had to go back to work at 8 or 12 weeks. That would be really, really hard. My friends who do that have had to work harder at getting their baby on a better night schedule. It's not easy.
I do get tired. I do crave sleep really badly sometimes (right now, at 930 pm Friday, I'm fine. This morning at 6:30 am, I made my husband get up and change the baby, then bring him to me to feed in bed- and I swear, I slept during the three minutes my husband changed him. And yesterday morning around the same time, I vaguely recall saying, "Take him away so I can sleep." And I got a full 50 minutes of "don't have to worry about baby waking up because I'm not in charge of him right now" time.
If I do get worn down, I take action. I don't make plans for the day, and I make it a priority to get Q to sleep during the day (not always a guarantee). In the first month, I'd even skip dinner to sleep if I needed to, because I know how TERRIBLE I can be if I'm tired. I did have a rough week last week- I had trouble getting back to sleep at 1 am, then 4 am... and I did get worn down. But that's when you stop and reset: cancel the plans, stay at home for a day or two, get recharged.

But in general, the best advice I got, which wasn't advice, but it was how I set my mind after a billion people told me, "Sleep now while you can." That wasn't good advice. What 10 month pregnant lady can sleep? DUH!!! But that made me think I'd better treat infanthood like I was a Navy SEAL. You know, go in expecting hellish sleep deprivation, then be surprised at it being only a little worse than those college all-nighters. Or, maybe easier, but with added challenges of breastfeeding, hormones, and the insane thing that is the post-pregnancy body.

But I think maybe my baby's just easy. He's not colicky. He only cries if he's hungry or tired. If I take care of those two things, he's fine.

But oh, the boy does not like the car. He screams and shouts, I think because I often put him in the car when he's tired, because I've learned I can stay home for 6 hours trying to get him to nap, or I can go out, endure a car ride of crying, but then have him fall asleep in his sling while I'm shopping or walking. I'd be stuck at home all day if I didn't hear him cry. But oh, he gets hysterical in the car. It's bad. His crying makes me skin crawl.

God, I'm kind of boring myself. I just wanted to say that breastfeeding is pretty cool.

PS- you are allowed to drink while breastfeeding. Just don't drink on an empty stomach, or your body WILL use that to make the milk. Baby won't get drunk, but he may be irritable. So only drink if you have eaten and/or are eating. And don't get totally plastered. Click here to read full entry.

A Blog for Baby Q?

My friend Laura in Seattle, who I cannot say enough good things about, keeps an amazing blog for her baby Quentin, who just turned one year old. I want to keep the same kind of blog for my little Q... but I have a dilemma, because I already have two blogs. What do I do?
a) create a new blog to serve as Baby Q's online baby album for him to look at in the future and for family to read now...
or
b) turn Fancy Pancakes into his blog?

I'm leaning toward creating a new blog for Baby Q, because I like having Fancy Pancakes for my crazy thoughts about me.
Baby Q's blog should be for him. Laura's blog is very good that way, I think. I like her tone, and I think the purpose of her blog is very clear: catalogue Quentin's milestones and his family's adventures.

Sigh. I think I have my answer, but having a third blog seems insane. Then again, I am insane. Click here to read full entry.

My First Favorite Person

OK, probably my baby and my husband should be my favorite people, but I feel an extreme kinship with my almost 6 year old nephew Jack. This post and poem that I wrote a few years ago when he was almost 2, and still my only nephew, describe how he changed my life. (Photo: My first bday with nephew!)
In the past few years, another amazing nephew was born, and then an amazing niece. Obviously, I cannot as a good aunt call my first nephew my favorite. In fact, I probably should no longer speak in terms of favorite, as I could do 5 years ago when my nephew was the brightest spot in my life. Instead, I'll say that this quote from him, that my sister emailed to us yesterday, makes me think of how much Jack reminds me of me.

Here's the email:
Thought you might get a kick out of this quote from Jack. We were at the dinner table.
Jack: "I'm probably the smartest kid inside my class. (Pauses for a second.) When it was 1:58, the other kids thought it was 2 o'clock."
Dumb kids.
Love,
A

I love that smarty pants attitude- and you know, the kid is right. He probably is the smartest kid in his class, and those little dummies can't tell time as well as he can. The kid can read clocks better than most of my sixth graders. I think I'm pretty smart, and I'm a fast learner, so I can relate. In first grade, my teacher had to cancel the fifty state spelling lists, because Marty and I were the only kids who could handle them. I see a lot of myself in Jack. That, and the fact that he was my first nephew- the first important kid in my life that was in a way at least a little part of me- will always make him special!

Oh, plus, if you read this post where he tells me I can't steal his sippy cup, you can see that he and I are sort of telepathically connected. He read my mind. I was going to steal his sippy cup.

The pictures below are funny, because you can tell all I wanted to do was follow him around any pay attention to him. I'm barely IN any photos with him because I was usually taking photos.










(these first two photos, I had yet to meet my husband, so OBVIOUSLY Jack was my favorite person!)

















(this last photo is from 2 months before my 2nd nephew was born.) Click here to read full entry.

The “Enjoy your sleep while you can!” Advice: Annoying or Helpful?

If you are one of the many people who said this to me, I apologize if this post seems bitchy.

I’ve blogged before about the many annoying things people say to pregnant women:
-“Oh, you’re going to find out the gender! But it’s sooooooo fun to be surprised!”
-“You’re trying to go without medication? Are you crazy?!?!?”
-“You’re napping? Enjoy it while you can, because you’ll never sleep again!!!”
Looking back on the doomsday “Enjoy the sleep while you can, because you’ll never get it again” advice, I can say, I think these people were exaggerating. Let me explain.

Maybe my baby is just an angel, but his sleep sessions generally come at night, starting anywhere from 8pm to midnight, and ending anywhere from 8 to 10 am. We wake up 2-3 times to feed, so it’s not like I’m getting uninterrupted sleep. I usually get 2 hours, then 3, then 3 more. Several times I’ve gotten 4, 5, 6 and even 7 hours straight (although I paid for that 7 hours by breastfeeding almost all day to make up for all the eating time he lost).

Now, it’s not fun to wake up after 3 hours sleep, and I am groggy. When I hear Baby Q stir at 6:30, or 5:30 am, after I’ve just gotten him back to sleep at 3:30 am, I’m not the most joyous I’ve ever been. In fact, I try to ignore him, or jiggle him, to see if he’ll go back to sleep. (My new thing is, if my husband is awake, I’ll call him on my iPhone to see if he’ll come change the baby’s diaper then deliver him to me to breastfeed in bed.) It’s also hard to force myself to go back to sleep at 8am if that’s when the baby has decided to take the last part of his sleep (after staying up until midnight). But despite the erratic sleep, I feel fantastic overall, and I’m not any more tired than I’ve been at other points in my life.

About these people that told me life was going to be a living hell:
I think those people are maybe
a) parents of toddlers, so their sleep interruptions have been going on for months and even years, so their advice is not relevant to a new mom, who knows damn well she better sleep when the baby sleeps (although I’m ignoring that advice right now to blog).
b) parents who have gone back to work, so they do not have the luxury of sleeping in with baby until 10am like I did yesterday.
c) or maybe they had a hard time with their babies.
I’m not doubting their statements that they were sleep-deprived, I’m just saying, maybe it’s not going to be a total shitstorm for every new mom, because it wasn’t for me. (What WAS a shitstorm was how achy my entire pelvic floor was for 3 entire weeks- why didn’t anyone warn me about THAT?!?)

So, the question in the title: was that advice annoying, or helpful? I’m actually erring on the side of helpful, because their warnings were so dire that I basically got myself psyched up to face Navy SEAL-like conditions with my new baby.

I do recall that the first week was tough. Breastfeeding was not trouble-free, and I was beat up from birth, and I was hormonal. The first week or two, he’d sometimes not go to bed until 1 or 2 am. That was tough. If the rest of his infant-hood was like that, yeah, the dire warnings would be appropriate. But even as I continued to hurt, Baby Q’s sleep cycles normalized to where I could guarantee that he understood that dark time meant sleep time.
I think one good thing I did was not trying to accomplish anything but sleeping and feeding him. I didn’t try to go shopping, or make dinner, or go out of my way to accommodate visitors. I set very low standards for myself: breastfeed and sleep.

(And not every sleep night is good; this photo is from a day when he didn't sleep well at night, so he was tired, but was resisting a good nap- we breasted in bed for what felt like all day. This is why I don't commit to a lot of activities; my life is easier if I put his sleep- and mine- first!)

Whenver I complain about advice from other people, I have to stop and check: am I giving any pregnant people annoying advice? I have been badgering my friend to call a lactation consultant, but I think I’m the only one telling her that (because I am OBSESSED with my lactation consultants at Stamford Hospital- I LOVE them), so I think that’s OK. I’m on a “trust your boobies” kick. I do also recommend products to friends (Moby wrap, Swaddleme, etc.) but I think that’s OK too. I just think it’s important to distinguish whether you are actually giving ADVICE to a new mom, or if you are just expressing a memory of what it was like for YOU. Saying “sleep when baby sleeps” is good advice, and one that you SHOULD hear a dozen, and fifty, times, because it is RIGHT ON. Telling someone they’ll never sleep again… well, that just might not be true, but if it happened to you, I’d like to hear about your experience so I can learn from it. And I guess that’s what you do when you hear scary warnings. Say, “Oh, is that what happened to you? Do you have any advice?”
I’ve actually been afraid to tell people how well my baby sleeps, because everyone else seems so traumatized.

Blah blah, OK, off to brush teeth and shower while baby sleeps! (It’s 930am, we went to bed 11pm ish I think, woke up and fed at 2, I got back to bed at 330, he stirred at 630, fed and went back to sleep, stirred again an hour later with poops and farts, I fed him again, he went back to sleep, and I chose to blog instead of sleep! So, I got about 6.5 hours of interrupted sleep- not great, but I’m willing to be a little tired today because we slept for 11 interrupted yesterday! But that was after two rougher nights. So, whatever. This is my full time job so I should not expect a life of ease.) Click here to read full entry.

Wanna Be Popular? Have a Baby

I mentioned in "Pregnant, or On Terrorist Watch List?" that people stalk you as your due date approaches. You get lots of attention. Then, after you have the baby, people congratulate you, call you, post messages on your facebook page, send you gifts... well, all of that attention is starting to dry up, and yesterday I was feeling a little... well, neglected, and not as popular.
But then today I went SHOPPING with the baby, and people were ALL OVER me.

This is not necessarily a good thing. My baby is only 5 weeks old, so I don't want people all up in his grill with their germy breath. It is my job to keep this kid cold and flu-free, and I'm pretty aggressive about it.
On the first part of my errand, I kept him in the stroller with the suncover pulled over his carseat so no one would get too close to him.
Nope. People just get closer, so they can bend over and peek under the sunscreen.

Girl at counter: "Oh, a baby!" Comes around and peers under sunscreen.
Me: "Are you perfectly healthy?"
"Oh- uh- yes!"
Me: "OK, well, just don't get any closer than that, just in case. He's only 5 weeks."
Of course I seem like a psycho bitch, but I don't care. Maybe that person is getting sick and they just don't know it yet. In any case, they haven't washed their hands, so I can't risk them- God forbid- TOUCHING my baby.
Since the sunscreen failed, for the next part of my errand, I thought I'd keep him nestled between my boobs in the sling. Surely THAT would keep people away from him, right? No one's going to get up in my grill, and in my boobs, right?
Wrong.

I was in the sports store for, max, 3 minutes. In that time, despite my clearly giving off "don't talk to me I'm busy" vibes, 3 people got too close to me to tell my how cute my baby was, ask how old he is, and of course, tell me how fast they grow up.
I know I seem like an ungrateful brat. But I keep reading that you're supposed to really protect them from germs for the first couple months, so that's what I'm doing. I don't want people to breathe on my baby unless I've cleared them.
In general, I want my baby all to myself.
Maybe I should stop running errands.

The point of this post though, is to tell you I felt very popular today, but I didn't want to feel popular. I hadn't showered, I wanted to get my errands done quickly and in a germ-free way... and people kept wanting to chat. I was not in friendly chat mode, I was in "nervous new mom not really sure if baby likes sling, and thinks he'll be hungry and poopy soon, and I am hoping to also make it to Target after this."

Really, I am just a brat, aren't I. Click here to read full entry.

Mom Club and Beyond: I'm a Joiner

Life with Baby Q is insanely fantastic.
I'm totally into breastfeeding and want to join La Leche League. Actually, I want to join every possible group I can. I've felt left out of the general Mom Club for a while, so now that I am a mom, I want to join every club to which I've been denied entry for years:
La Leche League
Attachment Parenting Meetup Group (had to learn what that was before I could join)
Local Hospital's Moms group
Stroller Strides
Baby Massage Class
Mommy and Me Yoga
Music Together
I mean, you name something, and if it exists around here, I'm gonna join it.

OK, we're gonna go try the sling to see if I can maybe get like, one thing accomplished around the house.

This is a picture of me and Q cuddling in bed. I thought he was awake, so I got him out of his bassinet to cuddle a little before I got up to change and feed him, but he went back to sleep so I just twittered on my iPhone until he woke up. Our bed is way too cushy to safely co-sleep, so I take my baby cuddling when I can. Click here to read full entry.

Errata: Husband Quotes, Baby's Looks

Me: “Did you remove my thingy (frozen soup container) from the freezer?”
Husband: “I haven’t not not not done it.”
(Clever use of triple negative to throw me off from his true meaning!)

Me: "Did you get dessert, or are we just gonna eat the kid's Easter candy?"
Husband: (pause) "He doesn't even have teeth!"
(As in, yeah, we're going to eat his Easter candy.)

I thought my baby would come out looking exactly like my husband. I was looking forward to that, actually. However, I think he looks EXACTLY like me. He's got my nose and my chin, and his mouth is just like my cousins' from my mother's side- the Gilmore mouth. In my baby pics, my face shape looks so much like Baby Q's. My husband says he doesn't see it, but I attribute that to how bad he is at recognizing faces.

Only one person, my friend Julie, will concede that Baby Q looks just like me. Even my own mother tried to deny it. What is this conspiracy? I feel like I am looking at a male mini-me, and other people profess they have NO IDEA who he looks like. Duh, people, I am TELLING you who he looks like!!!

Something random: the baby's blondish-brown hair is looking redder and redder. I don't know if this is just his baby hair that's going to fall out?
I do think Baby Q has my husband's ears. Click here to read full entry.