White babies can jump!

Since we're on the topic of genetics, I'll share that I don't think my baby has melanin.  I'm not surprised.  "Yo mama and yo dada so white" jokes were conceived for Matt and me.  (You remember these... Yo mama's so white, she gets a sunburn from the TV.  Yo dada's so white, when he gets naked, yo mama's retinas burn.)  My brotha said it best when he inquired, "where are your kid's eyebrows?" and I had to swallow my pride and just accept that my little guy simply lacks skin (and hair) pigmentation.

Trying to spot us at the beach?  We're the family under the umbrella, wearing hats, covered in sunscreen inside. 

As summertime approaches (can I get an AMEN!), I'm feeling nervous about Ari's exposure to the sun.  If he's anything like us, he will fry like a piece of kosher turkey bacon. My dark hair is deceiving.  I'm truly as pale as they come.  2 days ago, I took a 30 minute walk outside (in partly cloudy weather conditions) and still have this oh-so-cute sunburn to show for it:

I should buy stock and stock up in baby (and adult) sunscreen.

But two things give me hope that my little Albino is not going to be the butt (ha ha) of jokes for the rest of his life.  First, he's got an unusually large wiener.  (You got me, that was a lie.)  But second and more importantly (and honestly), this pasty white 6 month old has got skills when it comes to jumping!

Watch out Woody Harrelson.

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Talk to me!

About three months ago, I was promoted.  I left an office I loved, a title I desired, and a paycheck that supported my Ruelala addiction to take care of my baby 24/7.  I was thrilled to hold the new position of stay at home mom.  My maternal instinct kicked in (shockingly), and I have felt an incredibly strong bond with my baby.  I feed him, I change his poopie diapers,  I take him for walks, I attend classes, and as I detail in this blog, I get drooled on and spit up on and pooped on all day long.  And I am very happy. 

But now, I am jealous.

Ari babbles constantly.  He's been vocal for a long time and loves to make funny noises and practice different pitches.  Until the last week, nothing has sounded like English, but I have been coaching him by saying repeatedly "mommmmmmy" "aaaaarrrrrriiiiiii" when he "talks".  Much to my chagrin, he now says one word over. And over. And over.

Da-da, Da-da, Da-da, Da-da, Da-da, Da-da, Da-da.  All day long. And from 5:45am-6:30am. Da-da.

Come on little guy!  It just ain't fair!  "Da-da" changed 1 poopie diaper in the last month!  "Da-da" didn't gain 35 pounds for you (though he did gain his share of sympathy weight.)  "Da-da" didn't push your cantaloupe-sized head out of a hole the size of a grape.  "Da-da" doesn't even hear you in the middle of the night!

Puh-leeease.  I need a "ma-ma."

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Rehab

Hi, my name is JulieSue and I'm an addict.

It started so innocently.  I was having trouble falling asleep (even though I was exhausted) and staying asleep (I would hear my baby cry when he was fast asleep OR I would wake up and just stare at the video monitor) so I turned to the OTC aisle at the local CVS.  One night, I popped half a Tylenol PM before bed and, amazingly, I woke up, 8 hours later, feeling refreshed and revived and ready to take on the (baby) world.  It worked so well that I took 1/2 the next night, 1/2 the night after, and then incorporated the pill popping into my nighttime routine (brush teeth, remove contacts, take pill).  At some point, 1/2 a pill turned into 1 pill and occasionally, when I'm feeling extra spunky, I go crazy and take 2 whole pills. 

I called my mom to tell her about my little addiction and she said, "can't hurt you, in fact, you'll get fewer colds."  My mom attended the same medical school as this guy.

A shameless celeb effer, I'm following the lead of my US Weekly headliners and checking myself into Tylenol PM rehab.  This is the same facility that we used when we needed to cure Ari of his pacifier addiction.  Dr. Drew is not here...and it sure is not a "party at the palms" (if you get that reference, I salute you).  I doubt I'll get to see Lindsay Lohan or Catherine Zeta Jones, but if I'm lucky, the manager of this joint (a tall redhead easily bribed with gummy bears) will take pity on me (and my withdrawal symptoms) and slip me some benadryl at 2am.

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go BACK to sleep

I slept on my tummy as a baby.  So did you.  And we turned out fine.  But the rules have changed; babies now sleep on their backs.  It's a SIDS risk.  I'm pretty sure the first "S" stands for "sudden" and doctors have never been able to find a cause for this sudden horrific occurrence, but, as a preventive measure, parents must put babies on their backs until they're strong enough to roll over on their tummies.

(For the record, I never met anyone who died from SIDS.)

(Yeah, that was a bad joke.)

We were doing great.  Ari was finally sleeping 12 hours a night and 4 hours during the day.  We were both so happy, so well rested, so up-to-date on reality TV.  And then, he started rolling over.  It was exciting!  The video camera was working overtime and Matt and I would just sit and stare giddily as Ari flipped himself from back to stomach.  We would immediately flip him back over so we could watch his little roll again and again.  He even smiled after every roll as we cheered proudly by his side.  It's no wonder he decided to roll in the middle of the night as well.

Check out this very boring video of Ari (well, it's of the video monitor) showing off his straight-jacketed shimmy after bedtime: 

This presents a few problems.  First, he can't roll himself back.  Second, he can't sleep face-down swaddled (now that's an IDS risk).  Finally, when I don't swaddle him, he can't fall asleep. 

HELP!!  Any moms out there with some good advice?

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Adventures in Babysitting

I'm petrified to leave my baby with anybody.  Neurotic?  Yes.  Okay with it?  Oh yeah.  And now, I have good reason to be.

My husband booked a babysitter for Saturday afternoon so that I could spend some much needed birthday relaxation/beautification time at a spa.  I wrote out a few notes for the sitter (only 2 pages), gave her a quick tutorial on the baby bjorn, and asked her to feed him/play with him/take him for a walk if she wanted to enjoy the beautiful sunshine.   (And this would only cost us 17 bucks an hour.)

Easy enough, right?
Wrong.

There was an early sign that things were a bit outta control when I received a Facebook notification that I had been tagged in a picture.  And here it was:

I didn't realize that the $17/hour included babysitter Facebook-ing.  I can read my baby's mind in that picture.  He's thinking, "This is not listed on the two pages of notes my mommy gave you."

Okay, it's sorta funny...and cute.  A few hours later, Matt came home, paid the sitter, and sent her on her way.  I was relieved when I walked in our front door to find a happy baby playing with Dad.  Ari was squeaking and shimmy-ing and I could tell he had news to share but just couldn't find the words to do so.  He didn't sleep well that night (it had nothing to do with us unswaddling him for the first time in 5 months) and today, when I received an email with more pictures from the sitter, I realized he must have been having nightmares.

The first picture. Good babysitter, way to follow directions:

Okay, I take the blame for this one.  I did show her how to use the baby carrier and suggest she take him on a walk (outside):

The $60 was already burning a hole in her pocket.

And now, things get really disturbing.  Eat - She figured out.  Walk - Check.  Play - This is not what I had in mind!!  And to make matters worse, this bed is not in my house:

My poor baby.  Can you see the fear in his eyes?

I thought things couldn't get much worse after her escapade with my baby on the bed...until I saw this:

Who is this person?  And why is my son feeling her up?  And why is she enjoying it?  (She should be paying me $17/hr for cheap thrills!)  And who is the chick in the background watching?  And where's my babysitter?! 

I want my money back.

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Oh Telly

When Ari was 6 weeks old, we realized he was transfixed by the television.  He would get so excited when it was on that he would sh*t his pants...literally.  I would hold him in my lap, his mini legs kicking like he was Michael Phelps, and his lids open so wide I thought the eyeballs may pop out of the socket.  We asked our pediatrician if it was bad that he was watching a little TV and she said that although it can't really hurt him, and although it's exciting for babies because it's like a kaleidoscope, the AAP (American Academy of Pediatrics) does not recommend that children watch any tv until the age of 2.

With complete disregard for my Doc and the AAP, I made the executive decision that just a few minutes of educational programming daily would be good for the baby and his expanding mind.  Here's what AJ learned about this week:

1. World Religion:  I feel as though Ari leads a bit of a sheltered life (Coolidge Corner, Brookline is not known for its diversity...in other words, there are more Shlomos than Shirleys) and it's important to me that he be exposed to other religions and cultures.  Therefore, we watch Big Love.  He and I both cried in the final minutes of the finale.

2. Nutrition: As he is about to start consuming solid foods, I want my baby to make healthy choices, eat a variety of fruits and vegetables, and feel comfortable both in the kitchen and in the grocery store.  Ari, such a Mommy's boy, cheered Richard on all season long of Top Chef.  He drooled nonstop during the tastings.

3. Family values: Matt and I both believe in the importance of a close-knit family and we are so lucky to have parents, siblings, and cousins who support us and serve as our role models.  We know Ari will have the same commitment to family and I reinforce this belief by letting him watch both the Kardashian Family and the Hoppy's (you know - Bethenney, Jason, & Baby Bryn) as they truly epitomize the ideals that Republicans everywhere hold true.  (I am pretty sure Ari will now only date very large busted women in the future.  Like daddy like son.)

Oh yeah, and he learned about slut smut by watching The Bachelor. 

  

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Vegas, BABY!

Before I begin, I just want to give a shout-out to Alan from The Hangover, who provides my husband with the inspiration to re-enact the baby spanking the monkey scene from the movie...daily. Thanks.

Those of you who know me well also know that Matt and I love the occasional, er, frequent, trip to Las Vegas. Normally, we book a last-minute deal on a Thursday, sneak off to adult play land for the weekend, and come home spent (ha, get it?) first thing Monday morning. We eat, we shop, we play some cards, and we have a great time in the desert. We've been going through sin-city withdrawal and made the (probably poor) decision to book a little get-a-way next week.

In preparation for Ari's first vacation, a few thoughts and questions...

*Will the video monitor work in the casino? I'm kidding people. Don't call DSS. I would never think of leaving my baby in the room, with the do not disturb sign on the door, if the monitor does, in fact, show a clear picture of my sleeping boy.

*I've been emailing Craigslist ad posters all morning trying to find a "little lamb" baby swing to buy (and have delivered) when we arrive on the Strip. My nightwaker loves to catch his 4-7am zzz's while rocking side-to-side in the cuddly seat. I hope JetBlue lets us bring it on board for our red-eye flight home.

*My parents will be travelling with us to help out for the week. Oh how our lives have changed. We used to keep these little weekend excursions on the down-low ("our cell phones were off? hmm we must have been in a tunnel...for 6 hours") and now my mom and dad are coming to assist this mom and dad.

*Which is trashier: visiting Vegas with a bun in the belly or visiting with a baby in the bjorn? I will have done both.

*To outfit Ari for the fashionable town, I ordered Ed Hardy onesies. I've officially lost my mind. Matt made me do it.

*In order to keep baby AJ on East Coast time, he will be going to sleep at 4pm and waking at 4am. This means, I will be going to sleep at midnight and waking up at 4am. Good thing my schedule won't change.

*The hotel recommends a babysitting service that costs $45/hr but "it's a good deal because they're insured." Does this mean that if they accidentally drop my baby or take him for a joy ride to their casa, the hotel will replace him for free?

Wish me luck! I'm betting on a crazy week.

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