First Day of School

"Gavin had a good first day. He liked the big purple block with mirrors on it, so he could watch himself =). He also liked being rocked in the rocking chair and was really happy as long as he was in someone's lap and was happy for a few minutes at a time being on the floor with his new friends. It takes awhile to get used to so many other babies being in your space!"

-- Note from Leah (Gavin's teacher) about his first morning at school.











We have an amazing kid, but he is not an easy daycare student. He has taken a bottle less than ten times and has fallen asleep with someone other than mom or dad a total of three times. However, at his first day of school yesterday, he drank three ounces from a bottle and slept for 30 minutes. More importantly, he was all smiles and hugs when we picked him up. We're calling it a complete success.

Kiddie Karma

Someone told me that with a newborn you should expect one tough period every day and one tough day every week. I cannot say whether this is entirely accurate because the magic potion of overwhelming adoration and infant smiles mixed with limited sleep puts parents in a constant state of drunken love such that it is nearly impossible to clearly remember those tough times. The good times, however, remain crystal clear.

For 115 minutes on Wednesday, I was the Baby Whisperer #2. (No matter how good, I can never be Baby Whisperer #1 because the title is already taken by our beloved Clay.) I had to dodge a cup of lemonade swarming with bees, push through a blister rubbed raw by the thong part of my sandal, and scare off a stray dog that charged us, but I did it. I had one of those moments where I thought, you know what, I'm rocking this parent thing.

While babysitting Lewis (our friends' son who is 6 weeks younger than Gavin), I managed to simultaneously feed him and Gavin, play and sing songs with them without any crying, and get them to sleep at the same time while out for a walk. It was awesome. And it might have lasted for 116 minutes, but for one small thing: I thought, you know what, I'm rocking this parent thing.

That's when it ended. It didn't end badly, but it ended. Lewis decided he was done with the walk, his cries woke Gavin, Gavin's diaper leaked, and we were still three blocks from the house.

Happy Halloween

Did you know that my mom has kitchen towels, bath mats, soap dispensers, door wreaths, and many other random knick-knacks for every major holiday? No, seriously. Starting in October with Halloween and continuing until Spring with Easter, the entire house is decorated. For me, it is what makes the holidays feel like the holidays; for others (and sometimes my dad falls into this category), it is a little overboard. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, I think I inherited the gene. For Halloween this year, Gavin had not one, not two, but three costumes.

A bumble bee . . .

A pumpkin . .

And, yes, a janitor . . .

Paparazzi

picture slideshow months 2 - 4

You Are Sillier Than You Remember

My dad sent me this really interesting NY Times article about childhood development. You can read it in full here (Your Baby Is Smarter Than You Think), but the last paragraph really says it all: "What children observe most closely, explore most obsessively and imagine most vividly are the people around them. There are no perfect toys; there is no magic formula. Parents and other caregivers teach young children by paying attention and interacting with them naturally and, most of all, by just allowing them to play."

This is most important job Daniel and I (and all parents) have ever had . . . the most difficult job we have ever had . . . the most rewarding job we have ever had and doing it successfully requires that we play. Our lives have become a blurred conglomerate of funny faces, goofy games, silly songs. Indeed, routine daily chores have become play time. Peek-a-boo with the bath towel. Reach and grab at the grocery store. Toe sucking during diaper changes. It is fabulously fun, for Gavin and his parents.

I knew that having a child would be rewarding, but regaining the ability as an adult to look at all of life as a silly game of exploration is an unexpected treasure. Admittedly, this perspective is probably most vibrant now. In fact, beside the sleep deprivation, I'm sure that a total surrender to the sillies during the newborn weeks is the impetus for "mommy brain" - the term used to describe a new parent's inability to speak coherently, sing any song other than a nursery rhyme, remember what day of the week it is, etc. But I am hopeful that at least a part of it remains forever. Perhaps this explains why, during one of my visits home from law school, my dad with a huge genuine smile could still excitedly ask me if I'd like to stir the new jar of peanut butter. My answer then was something along the lines of, "no, dad, I'm not five years old anymore." Next time, I think I'll go for something more along the lines of, "heck yeah."