Duet

Post-bath singing, here.

All Elijah All The Time

It may seem like I never have anything to talk about here o`ther thHAN Elijah (who is helping me type btw), which is partly true, but it's also partly true that I use this blog as a diary in which to record things I don't want to forget (on which I record things? can a blog be said to have depth, like a book?). Anyway, just for the record, we went to his month nine checkup today and he is: 28 inches long / 20 lbs. 11 oz. heavy = 75th% for height and 50th% for weight. Also, he has learned to snort. Conversations with Elijah are now peppered with snorts. He is funny and a little rude. He looks like this:

Lists

It's like I'm always making lists lately. There's grocery lists, of course. But I feel like I have more to-do lists than ever before. If I don't write something down there's a very good chance I won't remember I ever thought it. And we quit Netflix, so now I have to keep an actual list of movies to see (one day, when I can go to the movies again). And so sometimes, like when Elijah is asleep and I'm next to him on the bed and can't get away without waking him, and so I just lay there and ponder or doze, I keep making lists in my head as I go. Dumb lists. Or, banal anyway. Like, my top five favorite books. Not of all time, of course, because that's impossible. I mean, you're not even of one mind for all time. But, right now, your top five.

1. Mrs. Dalloway, Virginia Woolf
2. The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas, Gertrude Stein
3 W, or the Memory of Childhood, Georges Perec
4. Austerlitz, W. G. Sebald
5. Persuasion, Jane Austen

But then I can't stop. I'm like, okay, five alternates:

6. The Mirror in the Well, Micheline Aharonian Marcom
7. Pamela, a novel, Pamela Lu
8. Lolita, Vladimir Nabokov
9. The Ravishing of Lol Stein, Marguerite Duras
10. at this point I start to panic . . . I maybe need three slots here . . .

Or, the top five things that make Eljah laugh and/or talk his happy funny words:

1. Touching a new and coveted item (this morning, it was Mama's nightgown on the floor)
2. The cat
3. Waking up in a good mood and with Mama right there and looking around and waving arms as if to say "One day, all this will be mine, as far as the eye can see"
4. Pulling books off shelves
5. Pulling all laundry out of the basket

On the Move

Starring the kid. Also featuring a handsome Dr. Spanglestien in two cameo appearances. Critic Martin Riker says this film comes closest to "capturing the spirit of Elijah Beck."

Being Elijah

He crawls. Real crawling on his hands and knees. He's speedy. It's cute. If he misses us he will just come and find us now. Even in the bathroom. You can tell he's really pleased with himself when he finds us. He also really likes books. His favorite thing to do, maybe his favorite, besides ripping paper, is to sit in front of a bookshelf and pull off all the books he can reach. In terms of my poetry shelves, he seems to favor Eleni Sikelianos, but he has also taken a recent liking to the works of Chelsea Minnis and Bin Ramke and Laynie Browne. He's obviously really into contemporary poetry . . . so far no noticeable interest in classics. He also has four teeth now. He seems more into solid food all of a sudden. Especially if it's orange. Sometimes he bugs out in his highchair while M and I are eating so now I just put a spoonful of food (and the spoon, highly coveted by him) on his tray and let him go nuts. He loves it. He slowly sticks his fingers in it and giggles. Then he mushes it around in his hands, etc. I think it's just part of getting to know and love food. Yeah? Another hilarious thing he's into . . . tiny bits of paper or leaves. If he finds any little bit on the floor he slowly tries to pick it up (pincer grasp is pretty good) and pushes it around and laughs. Overall, he laughs A LOT. And he talks NONSTOP. Seriously. I don't notice him mimicking our speech, which seems a little weird to me, but he's certainly chatty. And there do seem to be some words he clearly understands, primarily: up, kitty, standing up, dada, mama's feet. Also, if you say the word baby or the word bunny nice and slow, he'll laugh and laugh. He's a funny morsel.

Here is a little video of him from earlier this week. Just being Elijah. Seriously, that's all.

Halloween

bored

Voila!

Dorothy goes live . . .

Pomo 'rents

How do you know you're a postmodern parent? It's when you ignore your crying baby cause you're too busy looking at cute picture of him on your computer. But, seriously, they're really cute.

Prince Macho-belly Turns Seven Months!

This guy laughs ALL the time. Seriously. It was one thing to laugh when we were working for it (goofy faces, peekaboo, etc.), but he's started laughing all on his own recently. Developing his funny bone, I guess. Like . . . we were at the Rikers' in PA and his Grandpa Riker brought up some blocks from the basement (toy storage, not creepy with spiders) and I made a little stack of them and HAR HAR Elijah though that was hilarious. But if you thought a stack of blocks was funny HOLY MOLY when the stack falls down it is so tooooootally HILARIOUS. And Grandma Riker gave us some toys to play with in the bath. So there we are taking a bath, me and E, and I pick up one of the toys, a yellow bunny, and I says YELLOW BUNNY, and Elijah LOSES it. Everytime I say YELLOW BUNNY he goes NUTS. This lasted for over twenty four hours. The next night before dinner we all tormented him by saying YELLOW BUNNY over and over until he turned purple. He also laughs in his sleep (like his mom).

Here's his majesty for you, enthroned:

He's mighty stinky since we started feeding him solid foods. Tootastic. He loves prunes and avocado and sweet potato. I still really like red wine and cheese. Marty loves lasagna. Spangley loves his stinky Friskies.

Here's a new month's-worth of pics. Incidentally, Elijah laughed his little tush off as we looked at these on the computer, in between screeches at the cat.

virginia woolf, talking!

here

Grandma!

Thanks for the memories . . .







 

Half Birthdays

Happy Half Birthday to M and to E! 

Here are pics of the previous month . . . including the tree that fell in our yard, swimming with Katrin and Anton, William and Cristy's wedding, and Elijah's first solid foods (brown rice cereal and applesauce).

Some September Stuff

Who said it could be September already?

Okay, so, brace yourselves: Elijah has tooth. We have tooth, people. Tooth pics soon. Har har. Hee hee.

I have newish writing online here.

Also, I went in for the ear test thing and it didn't make me dizzy. So, apparently, I might just be crazy after all. Marty says ditzy, not dizzy. I'm pretty sure the ENT doctor was flirting with me. 

Sitting

Last week Elijah sat by himself in his room for several sweet minutes.

Then he faceplanted into the rug and cried and cried. His first real cry of independence (sometimes it sucks to be free). If you click to enlarge you can see his wittle teaws of pain.

Lately

Lately, I haven't really been writing on this blog so much as posting moving/still images of young master E. But here's what's what:

Went to the doc and I am officially dizzy. Medically dizzy. Not crazy. I repeat. Not crazy.

Elijah got his first cold. Then Marty and I got Elijah's first cold. We are collectively pathetic at the moment.

Elijah stopped being a good sleeper about two weeks ago. Wakes constantly during the night. Suckles/eats every hour or two. Every. Hour. Or. Two. Seriously. Seriously! About every other night he'll wake at 1 or 3 or so and think it is morning and cry and want to play. It is cute but also not very cute. I think I've slept about 4 or so hours a night (never more than an hour at once) every night for the past two weeks. Still, I am medically dizzy. Not crazy!

There are butterflies all over town. Big monarchy ones. Little pale lavender ones. White ones. Big black and blue ones. Even on Elijah's little swing.

I am still knitting a scarf for Marty (which he was supposed to have last winter), but I have my eye on two new projects.

A tree fell in our backyard two weeks ago. It is still there. Birds are building nests.

I'm getting close to finishing my third book. I think. Parts one and three seem good. Part two still wonky.

I started a press, with help from M. It is called Dorothy. I already got back contracts from my first writer, whose book will come out in Fall 2010. More on this to come . . .

Naropa starts next week. Holy shit! That means: Elijah, Dalkey, Dorothy, Naropa class, third book, knitting, dizzy, etc.

Elijah went swimming for the first time, with his pal Anton.

We were going to start Elijah on solid foods this past weekend, but with the cold we decided to wait. Maybe next weekend. In the meantime, he's been drinking water from his sippy cup. He LOVES it. He actually sort of freaks out when he sees the cup and he holds it with both hands super tight and does pretty well getting the water out. His eyes get all big. He is amazed by it.

Also, Elijah had his first real babysitter. Well, his first babysitter that wasn't a grandma maternal or paternal. This babysitter was my friend Sarah.



And whilst Elijah was in Sarah's capable hands, Marty and Danielle went to the cute, eclectic, slightly weird wedding of Cristy and William.

Hey Sailor

On the Couch

For you.

The Whole Ugly Family

After the rousing success of our first movie venture, we bring you: Flipping Out.

And: Someone Save Me from this Horrifying Giraffe.

Amazing

A few announcements:

Elijah has rolled. Front to back and back to front. That's right. He did it. The amount to which this developmental, uh, development has become the high point of my week is a little pathetic, actually. Here's a picture of him after the big one (front to back, which had been troubling him for a while). He likes to wear his bib at a jaunty angle, as you can see.

He also said "Hi" yesterday. Marty came home from work and said "Hi" and Elijah said "Hi." But this morning we're pretty sure he said Hindenburg, so . . .

Here he is with the frog Unkee Gred sent. Shucks they're cute.



I think I also have a life outside of babydom, but I can't be sure. More on that soon.

xo-D

Elijah the Barbarian Live

At about three months, Elijah first developed a taste for butterflies.

A day in July

Went to Elijah's four-month check up last week. All is in working order! He is super vocal and coos and gurgles and rolls his Rs and babbles away. He also screeches. And sometimes he just yells. He giggles a lot. We tickle him and he giggles. It's a thing we do. Other things that crack him up: saying "Scoo-doo-doo" to him; telling him "You are the poo maker and I am the poo remover," his Mom's new haircut, blowing hot air on his belly and/or grabbing his little fingers in your mouth. At the appt he was 16 lbs 9 oz and 26 inches - which was the 83rd percentile in height and 79th in weight. He got shots again. I always leave the room like a weenie, but Marty stays (of course). He didn't cry for the first one and then after the second he was like "WTF!?!?!" Right now I'm typing at the dining room table and he is screeching and wiggling in his swing (an embarrassing monstrosity that he loves, most of the time). He's also drooling. He drools a lot. It's gray and muggy here. Knit night tonight (I'm working on a scarf that will probably take three years at this rate). Some random pics for you (click to enlarge: Elijah with pals Anton and Miles; Elijah the Barbarian eating two butterflies and one giraffe at the same time!; Elijah the bath-taking Arab). Love, D

See mom, no hair

Meeting of the Open Mouth Club

Every day, Marty calls several meetings of the Open Mouth Club. There are only two members. They meet for about 30 seconds before Marty adjourns til the next meeting, which, he usually informs the membership, will be called to order in four minutes.

California

We had a lovely visit! Thanks everyone. There are pictures of you here.

Action Shot

Bath time!

(Okay, so our grout could be cleaner.)

Elijah's Second Month

in pictures

Just got back from Elijah's second month check up. Oh he's crying, more soon . . .

Okay, it's been about a week, but here's the to-be-continued:

So at the appointment he was 13 lbs 4 oz and 24 in long, which placed him in the 80th percentile for both. Even though we're terrible about putting him in "tummy time," since he hates it, he held up his little head like a champ, thus assuring that Marty and I didn't get a mini-lecture from the pediatrician. She asked if he makes sounds and I was all "Does he make sounds?! He carries on five minute coversations!" I don't think people believe me until they see him do it. Yesterday, my knitta friend Sarah came over and she put him in her lap looking up at her and started talking and after a minute of carefully scanning her face (deciding if she was worth talking to?) he started responding to all her questions with loud and enthusiastic "ungah"s or "urrrrr"s (with tongue rolling) or basic "aaaaaa"s. He's also a little flrity. Not with people, though . . . mostly with the light fixture in the dining room. Whenever he sees it he breaks into a huge grin and sort of bats his eyes. Admittedly, it is a pretty cool light fixture. It also amazes me that he already has particular toys and books he likes. Without fail, if I show him the "Humpty Dumpty" page in his board book of nursery rhymes, he'll smile and be happy, even if he was just about to cry. So, yeah, anyway, my kid's the cutest and bestest in the whole universe, etc. Blah blah blahhhhh.

The Story

I’m already forgetting things, in just two months, so I’d better do this now:

On my due date, March 5, a sunny and windy Thursday, we had an appointment with our midwife, Cathy, at Christie Clinic at 11am. Our doula, Trish, met us there. When the nurse was taking us into the exam room, she asked if I was still feeling the baby move around as much as usual. I said he’d seemed quiet today, so she said she’d hook me up to the fetal monitor for twenty minutes before Cathy came in, just to be on the safe side. So she sets us up in the room, the monitor on, and after about five minutes or so, Trish asks if I’m in any pain. Not really, says I. Because, she says, you’re having contractions. And so I was! There they were on the little inky printout. When Cathy came in, she confirmed it, did an exam, and told us I was dilated to 3 centimeters. I had been at 1 centimeter the week before, so this was some progress. Then she told me to hurry up, because she wouldn’t be on call that weekend, so I’d have to deliver before midnight on Friday (more or less) for her to be at the birth. Pressure! But I was technically in labor at that point, so this was all exciting. Then, of course, I went back to work at Dalkey. And after work, I went to yoga. And after yoga, Marty fed me gnocchi and spinach (not fed me fed me, he just made dinner). Then we tried watching TV, but I was tired and the contractions were getting stronger, so we decided to try to go to bed and ride out the night. But things began to really pick up around 10pm. Marty started timing the contractions and after only an hour or so they were four minutes apart and I was in a lot of discomfort (and having diarrhea . . . gross, but apparently a common sign of labor). He called Trish then and she said she’d shower and come on over. But we wound up calling her back, or Marty did, about twenty minutes later, because it was clearly time to go to the hospital (I was writhing and yelling on the kitchen floor [after having eaten, incidentally, a bowl of Total]). When we pulled out of the driveway, the clock in the car clicked to midnight, so I said Happy Birthday, Husband, because then it was his birthday.

Okay, so we pull up to the Emergency Room at Provena Covenant Medical Center just after midnight and check in. They offer a wheelchair, which I (freakishly) refused, and we went up to the fourth floor, me writhing and wriggling down the hallways. But I was smiling, which the labor and delivery nurses commented on right away, and we were quickly taken to the room with the tub, which we’d requested, and left there with Trish, who showed up just a minute or two behind us. Trish had us start some early labor stuff involving a sling and some unflattering positions, and I still had diarrhea, and they started to fill the tub, and they hooked me up to the monitors for twenty minutes and told me I was still at 3 centimeters (which was a little frustrating to hear, considering how much more intense the pain was now), and then the tub was full and hot, and the monitoring was done for a while, and the pain was getting major, and so I got into the tub. What a freaking relief! Huge relief! Then the next few hours I spent in and out of the tub (out to run to the bathroom [or sort of tip-toe in a writhing, hobble-esque tip toe] and to get monitored and measured). Marty took a nap. A nap! Trish sat by the tub and basically coached me, rubbing my lower back and being all-around encouraging. I don’t think I made any eye contact with anyone for those few hours. I went to my monkey place, as Ina Mae tells you to do in her book. I moaned a lot, in my monkey place, and when I started to actually yell Trish coached me down into a lower register. I think I was really loud, because once or twice the doc on call came in looking concerned, but was promptly ushered out by the doula and/or midwife (once she got there). Overall, the time went quickly to me, but each contraction was an event, physical and psychological, and at one point (he was awake again!) I either thought or said to Marty that there’s no way I can do this for a long time. Thankfully, I didn’t have to.

At 4am or so, they measured me again and I was effaced and at 8 centimeters. Someone called Cathy; she was on her way. I think she got there around 4:30. I got out of the tub for the last time, got on the bed, and Cathy said it’s time (I was at 10, etc.) but the water isn’t broken, shall I break it? Basically, she said, this baby is ready, if I break your water I think he’ll come right out. So I said, yeah, break it, and she broke it, and it gushed out and felt sort of nice, actually, and then the pushing began. This was the most intense and scariest part for me. I kept backing up in the bed as if I could back out of my body. And it all went really fast, was very intense, and Marty stood by my side and held my hand and held his breath whenever they told me to hold my breath (I had my face buried in his belly this entire time, so I could feel him holding with me), and two nurses had to push my legs toward my body (two on each leg, I mean), and they all kept saying, yes, great push, one more like that, and after they said that a few times I got pissy, YOU KEEP SAYING THAT, and I was getting fatigued and maybe a little discouraged or freaked out, and so someone took my hand and put it on the baby’s head and said, that’s your baby, he’s almost here, and then it really was just one (maybe two) more push(es) and the head was out, and everyone shouts, STOP PUSHING, so they can make sure the cord isn’t around his neck I guess, but it was like a millisecond in time to me because then out comes the rest of him lickety-split and slick and it’s done (or so you figure at the moment) and there he is! He was awesome from the first: eyes open, he latched on and started eating right away while covered in schmuck and blood. He was grand. He is! And I felt insanely proud of myself; I was beaming in pride, seriously, I couldn’t believe I’d done it, and I kept saying, I did it, and also saying, I never have to do it again. And the doula cut the umbilical cord, and then they took him from me because I had to deliver the afterbirth, and I said, no he needs to be on skin, Marty take off your shirt, and he did, and they put him on Marty’s chest, and Marty and Elijah sat in a chair and got better acquainted on their birthdays.

Mahw

Saturday morning cartoon

Second door from the left, top row.

I'm in there.

Four Weeks!

I can't believe it's been a month since Elijah was born. It feels like much more time has passed, and much less. Or no time. It's just weird (see post below re: passage of time post baby).

According to Aunt Ruthie, Elijah is no longer a newborn. Phew! So he is officially a baby, I guess. After one month together I can tell you that little Elijah likes: staring at (out?) windows, being held all day, eating, zerberts from dad, having his diaper changed (a new generation of naked nudies is born!). He dislikes: the cat's meow, the cold, being alone at all ever for even one second. He gives lovely smiles if you talk nice at him.

Here's a pic. Anya described it thusly: "like a bee caught in a confetti snowstorm."



I really want to write up my birth story. His birth story. Ours. If only I could find ten uninterrupted minutes . . .

This morning

Marty said: "It's like there aren't times of day anymore, there are just different kinds of light."

for more on Elijah Beck

go here

A piece of S P R A W L

here for one month

Knit Night Booties

My knitta friends threw me a surprise shower and the main attraction (okay, other than the tropical carrot cake) was a box (decorated in googly-eyed duckie stickers) filled with a handmade pair of booties from each of them. They're sort of obscenely cute.

In order (here and in size): From Dorie: From Erica: From Sarah: From Laura: From Karen.