bubba love

Oh I just love having a baby around. Every day I fall in love with the little guy all over again. Yep, mothering is so much more challenging than I ever thought possible and it takes every grain of my being to stay calm and composed about 10 percent of the time. (For instance, when Cal didn’t fall asleep until 9 last night – which wrung me out like a towel and left me energy-less. It was because we had a friend over and he doesn’t sleep with strangers in the house. Yes, he is super aware of these things.)

But, it’s so meditative and life affirming to watch my little boy grow and flourish and I think I would cross oceans just to hang with him even if we weren’t genetically linked. I’m mesmerized by those eyes and how he tinkers to discover the underbelly of things.

Yesterday after Cal’s last nap, we went out in the backyard so I could line dry his diapers. He sat in his little u-shaped pillow until he careened backward and then he stayed lying on his pillow with his head angling upside down for several minutes, just looking at our tree. I wish I could’ve had temporary entrance into his mind to discover what he was thinking – I especially wonder what’s turning in those wheels when he gets fixated stuff.

I can’t really describe it, but how he is just makes me laugh and smile. Like when he says “dadadadada” under his breath to the car window on the way to work, when he wiggles his body in delight upon seeing a friendly face, when he squeezes and flexes his fingers over and over, or when he pinches people’s cheeks and lips when they lean close, leaving them wincing and struggling to talk. Also, I love how he sits up like a regular person until suddenly he falls to the floor, like a felled tree, then blinks and moves on, and when his face completely folds in on itself, puckering and seeming to say: “you just offended me by giving me that, how disgusting,” when we feed him anything besides squash. I also can’t get enough of his squeaks and loud, purring breaths, especially when he’s tired – I guess only a mother would actually think that is cuter than anything on this planet.

beautiful, beautiful, beautiful - beautiful boy

I have to share these pictures with you, taken by our dear family friend. They are from the garage sale we had this past weekend; it was wonderful time, a group of us spent the morning outside with new and old people. Anyway, with the pictures, I just can’t believe how remarkably these photos capture Cal's moods and his lovely character. And I love the luscious lighting on his face and how his blue eyes just leap off the whole scene. He’s such a gorgeous little man.

boy meets girl

At a friend’s birthday on Saturday, Cal met nose-to-nose with a sweet 10 month old girl who just two weeks before learned how to walk. Shaun supported Cal as he stood facing his new friend (he was almost exactly her height), and both babies began their detective work, reaching out hands and navigating each others’ faces. After a few seconds, the baby girl gave a Tarzan-size yelp, stretching out her vocals with euphoric glee, operatic style. Cal immediately looked puzzled and then began to cry out of fear and confusion from the sudden and acute outburst. We tried not to laugh but it was hard not to given the mixture of sweet and sad and funny. After that, we called Cal’s new girlfriend a man eater and consoled Cal regarding the turbulent matters of women and love.

Cal's five.9

Shaun first felt it Saturday – it’s a sharp, stubby pearl coming up in Calvin’s mouth! The tooth is on the left side of his mouth. We thought he’d been teething for awhile – due to nighttime wake ups, but it wasn’t until over the weekend that we discovered it, it was like finding a diamond in the rough or chocolate chip in some vanilla ice cream. What a wonderful discovery!

Anyway, I know you’re feeling a drought regarding Cal’s five, so here’s six for you until I write some more (for real) on Fri.

1. I play this game with the snake puppet, Sylvie. I slither toward Cal from about a foot away and make funny hissing noises. Cal gets this fire in his eyes and a case of giggles. It’s like he knows to laugh right when I start, I think he remembers it being funny from the last time.

2. Last night while Shaun was laying Calvin down in our bed, ever so gently, he said something so plain but so wonderful. “He’s really beautiful you know.” But not matter-of-factly. He said it like his beauty just completely came out of nowhere and hit him over the head. Like it was so bright and blinding he had to say something. Then he smiled then walked away.

3. Cal hung with his G Aunt Beth on Friday morning, and then she called to thank us for making such a wonderful creature, like we had all the ingredients lined up and planned the whole thing. She said he is sweet and sensitive like me and has Shaun’s fun-loving and friendly disposition. The best of both of us. I sure hope so. It’s funny that for all the ridiculous jealous feelings I’ve ever felt toward others, I want my son to blow me out of the water in terms of talent and beauty and characteristics. Anyway, he’s amazing, just like Beth said. And the fact is he’ll always be amazing no matter what he does or how he evolves. We're just here for the show.

4. On Sunday, we finally marched outside to tend to our garden, which is really a jungle. The tomato plants are so overgrown – the Romas have resigned themselves to growing horizontally. Our beans have climbed higher than the wooden tents, so their tendrils just reach out into the sky. We have about four huge pumpkins, already. Anyway, it was potato-harvesting day. Calvin was set up on a blanket and watched. We dug like terriers into the rich silt soil, and Shaun and I uncovered more than 75 potatoes – ranging in size from a marble to a large man’s fist. Then, Calboy sat on my lap while I cleaned our harvest, at one point almost leaping forward before I caught him by his belly. We were similarly outside on Saturday. I filled a huge bowl of water for Cal and plopped in various bottle parts so that he could splash in the water, and get some good finds to chew on. Like a deep-sea diver, his little hands sank to the bottom of the bowl and recovered all kids of chewable delights. It was hot even at 10 a.m. By the time we were finished, Cal’s legs were sparkly and wet, but he didn’t seem to mind at all.

5. On his play mat Sunday, I collected the rainbow stackable cups (his favorite toy, btw) and set them in front of him. He was sitting up. First he grabbed the yellow. But after spying the red one in the corner of his eye, he chucked the yellow and grabbed the red quick. That was before he saw the purple one, which he quickly snatched up. He kept trading out cups for the color du jour. It was so sweet watching him change his mind and fly after the next one. I was dazzled by his intrigue and gusto.

6. I counted – when Calvin sits, he has four belly rolls. A quartet of rolls! Also, he has two thigh rolls and two ankle rolls, which are very tiny, but so very beautiful.

nanny to the rescue

In case you’ve been holding your breath since my Monday blog, I want to tell you some information that will let you breathe normal. Things have settled down around our parts – the ocean is quite calm (after the storm) and the skies are bright and indigo blue. We all feel more or less like ourselves again.

Monday afternoon we learned an important piece of the puzzle that’s restored our trust in the good and decent people of this world and made it possible for us to keep our wonderful nanny. We’ve also tinkered with the situation to make it better (I’m still not at home all day, but I’m dealing for now).

The whole ordeal has summoned to the forefront of my mind something that we all know but forget about a lot – sometimes, actually a lot of the times, impossibly challenging situations as well as dramas big and small are bubbling just below the surface of otherwise normal-looking people. You figure everyone is just honky dory and you’re the only one dealing with hard stuff that you can’t shake, but it’s probably the opposite. And it’s hard to remember that.

I recently finished the book Bird by Bird and I can’t stop thinking about life through Anne’s quote’s, so here goes: “I have come to think of almost everyone with whom I come into contact as a patient in the emergency room.” This is what puts her in the mood to give, she says. That’s a good way to orient yourself, I think, because in this world, every Joe and Jane is dealing with some kind of emergency unbeknownst to you, so it’s important to be as delicate and kind as possible, especially when you don’t want to.

Which brings me to the next point. I had a moment this week when I acted completely monkey-like, dumping my frustrations on my dear husband. It was after my most cherished Wednesday, and I just felt awful after putting Calboy through another suite of shots at his six-month appointment. He was cranky for the remainder of the day and I just stayed with him, holding him and neglecting every household chore, even during his naps. My husband was less than cheery to come home to see the house undone, and I snapped at him after he asked me about it. Everything came crashing onto the shore – the emotions of the week, the emotions wrapped up in Cal’s shots, my exhaustion, and that deep-seated nagging of not being or doing enough, awakened by that one comment. But of course my husband had his own emergencies, including a very long and challenging workday and an evening brimming with yet more to-dos.

So we’re all recovering from or overcoming something. With our nanny, she is facing something exponentially more difficult than the dereliction of dirty dishes, so our hearts reach out to her. Even so, I hope she knows that she’s saving us a little by bringing such beauty, love, and consistency to our sweet baby Calvin.

oral stage hello

What Calboy’s gummy little cave has been chomping, sucking, and mouthing on lately:

*The bottom of drinking glasses and glass bottles – the colder and more beverage condensation the better.
*Whole hard tomatoes from our garden – we watch in case he breaks the skin.
*Chins, shoulders, legs, hands, knuckles.
*The side of the bath tub.
*Blankets at bedtime.
*The backside of pacifiers.
*A magazine – the last for one we’ll be reading together for awhile.
*The hard yet soft corners of board books.
*The lip of the kitchen counter ledge.
*A baseball rattle before I confiscated it for BPA reasons.
*The doctor’s hand.
*A touch tone play phone at UCD Mind Institute (we were lab rats for an hour).
*All parts of the stroller, especially the tray and frame.
*Bottle parts and plastic food containers.
*Hyland’s Teething Tablets
*His cute feet, meaty thumbs, and tiny fingers.
*And of course, his toys.

(But not much food so far! Though he has tried blueberries, potatoes, carrots, avocado, & oatmeal. He makes a funny face and gives a tiny gag, but we'll keep up the effort.)

through the clouds

My little shining star sits now. And, when he’s lying down, he pulls his head up like he’s doing a miniature sit up. I try to tell him that it’s just easier to keep his head down because he’ll probably have to do those pesky sit ups later on, but he has this drive in his eye and he does them anyway. He’s so darn curious about the world that he won’t just lay there complacent. Nor will he sit pretty on my hip as I hold him. He grabs everything. But sometimes he’s surprisingly gentle when he gets something in his had, and he’ll just barely grace something like a lady’s long hairs or someone’s mouth with his fingers, touching it like his index finger is a feather.

Life is funny. Last night we found out that we may have to get rid of our nanny. She didn’t do anything egregious, she just overstepped the line by a small bit – but the outcome is the same no matter how far you cross the line. You might think that this is the worst thing that could happen. And it was for a second. But sometimes something better comes into sight through the clouds. Maybe my sister will watch him or maybe someone else who will work out better over the long run. The answer is out there some where.

Just a second ago I was sitting in the pumping room and balling my eyes out, reading Anne Lamott and wishing that I could just stay at home. I’ve done everything I can from this perch at work – I pump and spend every minute with Cal when I’m at home. But there are some things you just can’t do when you’re not there. You can’t touch and see and hear and be with him when you are away. You try but you just can’t.

Things seemed just fine on Sunday, before there was this crack in our armor. Once the crack happened, the egg busted up and there it was – the yoke. It seems plain as day now that something needs to give. I pray that we’ll find the best situation for us, somehow discover that good spot for our family. In my wishing to stay home, I know even that wouldn’t solve everything. Even if paying the bills wasn’t an obstacle, staying home wouldn’t be perfect. But it would be not perfect with Cal.

mr. six months

Everyone was right, it all goes by much too fast. Cal is growing so fast that I feel somehow I’m missing it and it’s falling through the cracks of my fingers, like sand. Tuesday night when he was sleeping it hit me like a pitcher of cement – Cal won’t be my little bug forever. I was so relieved that the next day was Wednesday and I’d get to contemplate his pudgy feet and thigh rolls, memorize the sprouts on his head, and see him first thing after naps when he’s still so cuddly and full of coy smiles. I think in the past week he’s turned into something else, something more boy that baby.

I see myself kissing him nonstop – maybe I’m holding tight to this era when I get a free pass to smooch on him all day long. He’s agile, and so in control of his body now. Feet and hands are tools on his increasingly effective tool belt. He can roll so well that he stops mid roll to look up and smile. He can also spin like a pinwheel and inch forward.

He sucks his drool before it slides out of his mouth so his shirts are drier now. His thighs are so pudgy I need two hands to make a band around them. He can almost sit perfectly – well it’s always been perfect for me ­– what I mean is with less sudden falls. But many times, he’ll fall forward on purpose so he can suck on whatever’s in front of him – the floor, your shirt, the table. He also does this in my arms; he’ll reach out and grab the counter, lunging his weight forward as if he’s taking off from a runway. I hold on tight.

Over the weekend, he happily gnawed on the bottom of my ice cold water glass at Tazzina’s. He also really liked the plastic food container I gave him yesterday, clutching it for the longest time and chewing on its bottom. In the bath, he doesn’t care that he can’t swim, he leaps off my lap, flying after his stackable cups. Once he gets one, he wants the other one, and the cycle continues.
We actually visited a friend’s preschool class yesterday and it really felt like it’d be realistic if someday he went to school too. We watched circle time. Cal was intrigued with the other kids, them with him. They introduced themselves and shook his hand. One girl made him laugh repeatedly with her funny faces.

He surprises me everyday and makes me smile at least 10 times more than I did without him. I just keep telling myself to embrace the amazing life force that is Calvin and let go of my need to hang on. I'm just glad I don't have to let go tomorrow.

red, white, blue and water bottles too

I will return with some lengthy Cal observations this coming Friday. Until then, here's what we were up to over the weekend:

Saturday was packed with patriotic fun – BBQ party, swimming, margaritas, and a glimpse of a firework finale. Lunchtime was spent at a friend’s bright orange house in the heart of east Sacramento. Flags hung from trees and whole streets were blocked off for festive block parties. Calvin wore a red striped shirt with star sleeves and became quite enamored with a half-full water bottle that he wrestled into his palms and put in his mouth, gnawing on its white cap for almost a full 10 minutes. He galvanized lots of ogling attention as the only baby in attendance. Swimming at Ggma’s house followed. It was Calvin’s first rendezvous with icy blue, cool, chlorinated water so he scrunched his face when his thighs were first dunked in. But he got used to the temperature and soon was back to laughing and smiling. His very favorite wet entertainment was Shaun coming up and smiling after hiding underwater – it never failed to get him giggling, which would make the rest of us laugh in a cascading giggle fest. Cal also liked to lead with his hands and head and wiggle his feet and tows as a rudder in the water, but a few unattended licks and gulps of water and I decided to keep him upright. After about a half hour, I dried our boy off and he, Ggma, and I sat in the shade and watched Shaun, Uncle Ry, and friends Morgan and Christine splash the afternoon away. On a bed of towels, Cal practiced his happy baby yoga move (as Morgan pointed out, it's when he's on his back with his hands holding his raised feet) and he also sat on my lap and talked. At this point, Cal was wearing his first pair of boxer briefs and probably feeling extremely comfy without a diaper. After a yummy BBQ dinner that included our garden's first corn cobs, the Hugheses and Ry returned to mom’s and dad’s house for margaritas and an attempt to put Cal to sleep. Cal resisted a little so he got wheeled out on the porch in his magic highchair. We all marvelled at his tiny toes that had curved themselves so sweetly around the chair's stopper. We left just after the sun set and Cal succumbed to sleep on the ride home in our new car. After tucking Cal in, Shaun and I caught the caboose of the beautiful Woodland High fireworks show from the perch of our own backyard. They crested perfectly between our trees in their sparkling glory. We had one warm, wet, wild, crackling, very American, and very wonderful 4th of July.

a new magic chair emerges

I broke down and bought the Chicco plastic highchair last weekend while Cal and I went shopping with mom and Mill. I had resisted buying such a chair (a replica of the one my mom has) because I wanted the old fashioned wood one that seems easier to clean and good enough to save for future generations. But, alas, the one that I purchased is pure magic because it can recline and has wheels and can get Cal to dreamland in about 5 minutes (we wheel it back and forth in the kitchen then move him to his bedroom when he’s in deep sleep).

Plus, it lets me have my hands when he’s asleep, which is a whole new concept for me. Last night I was walking in circles in the kitchen because I could not figure out what to do with my person with all this time and both thumbs. And Shaun, who previously could not help with the bedtime routine, is now enthusiastically pushing the chair so I can clean and do other wild things.

While I sing the praises of this lovely highchair, I am still reluctant to blindly follow its magic powers into the night because we’ve bound ourselves to baby gear before – the bouncy. So I’m trying to keep to at first rocking Cal gently to sleep and then moving to him to the high chair once drowsy, and later to his bed. That sounds like an elaborate night routine, but it is much abbreviated from the time spent before rocking Cal to sleep then trying to set him down two or three times then sometimes resigning myself to just holding my sweet boy for the rest of the night – while the house continues to look like it has been abandoned. I love holding snuggly bubbas, but I also like to discover my kitchen counter without dish clutter once in awhile.