A Crappy Day

Henry has REALLY bad diaper rash. Actually, it is a yeast infection. Boys can get them. Who knew? So in addition to Nystatin cream for it, the doctor has suggested letting him be naked for as much as possible so his heiny can air out. So I put a shower curtain on the floor and then covered it with a blanket. Within about ten minutes of playing, he peed. So I went to work to quickly change out the blanket. While I was concentrating on this, Henry was concentrating on something else. He pooped on the shower curtain and then proceeded to roll around in it. What fun for mommy! So while I am trying to clean up the poo from the shower curtain and stop him from further poopification, I was also trying not to get any on myself as I'd just showered. (Of course--Henry's timing is impeccable!) I was careful and did not get any poo on myself. However, later in the day, I couldn't figure out why Henry's room still stank of poopy. I'd cleaned everything up...or did I? When carrying Henry into his room to clean him up and change him (and reapply a diaper!) I'd accidentally gotten poop on the wall. All over it.

So I had to clean up a lot of crap today.

Leave it to the Swedes...

Henry in his beautiful new Svan High Chair

Leave it to the Swedes to make a beautiful high chair that is so complicated to put together that it comes with an instructional DVD. Actually, because of the DVD, it was relatively simple to put together. Henry is happy that he received his Christmas present from his Gigi and Papa early as he bucks out of his Bumbo seat when I feed him in it. Also, he now enjoys peaches, sweet potatoes, and green beans. But his favorite is still fresh bananas mashed up.

"Hey Mom, I thought you said there was going to be treats in this thing?"

Do they make baby cages?

I am wanting some sort of cage to put my son in. Not a small cage, mind you, but definitely something that will contain him. Despite my trying to thwart his mobility, he seems determined to move around. He crawls like he is a soldier in the jungle. He doesn't yet lift his tummy off of the floor and so continues to give himself rug burn on his face. He also rolls around a lot. I seem to remember some oldies song "Roll With Me Henry"--and I sing it to him, but really, I just wish he would stay where I put him at least until I finish using the potty. So we have made a trip to the store and bought all of those tacky plastic thingys you put in sockets and annoying latches for our kitchen cabinets. I have tried to trap him in the dining room that has evolved into his playroom (seeing as we no longer have the dining room table set up) by lining up pillows as he has yet to figure out how to go over them. He has, however, managed to squeeze through them. They also tick him off. I'll put him on the floor with his toys and then go to sew. He'll see me and start grunting when he gets to the body pillow and can't move. So he'll start kicking and grunting just to say, "Mom, you're really crampin' my style with this containment thing." I guess I'll have to break down and buy some sort of baby gate system.

Henry is also a bit grabby hands. We went to a Christmas Party last Friday night and I can definitely say that he was the most popular guy there with all of the ladies. He likes them a lot older than him. At one point, Sloan approached me asking, "Umm, where is our son?" I looked around, having not seen him in about ten minutes, and said, "Oh--he's over there. Being held by that woman I've never seen before in my life." He was passed around like a beach ball at a Jimmy Buffet concert. By the end of the night, he had broken two necklaces, untied two ladies' wrap dresses, and successfully felt up almost every woman at the party. He loves anything V-neck--it provides him with a little pocket to stick his chubby hand in and giggle. As we left, I told his Auntie Robin (whose party is was), "Yeah, I figure once your son has gone to second on every girl in the room it is time to go." What can I say? He is a man after his dad's own heart...

Skateboarding with Santa

Sloan thinks Henry looks like a stoner in his Christmas card picture because his eyes have that "I just had a bottle and I'm happy" glaze and his vans. I like to call them his Tony Hawk shoes. I feel bad that his jeans rode up and his little chubbers of legs showed, but he keeps growing out of things too fast for me to keep up. These overalls are 12 months and they look like capri pants.

I have also discovered that Henry loves to play with blocks and only feigns laziness with Mom and Dad at home. Usually, after a couple of minutes of sitting up, he'll roll to one side or flop on his back. I thought it was just that he wasn't strong enough yet to keep sitting up. Yesterday I babysat for a family I used to work for and their children were building him towers with blocks for him and their one year old, Quinn, to knock over. Henry sat up for about thirty minutes. That little bugger! So he is strong enough to sit up when it suits him!!! What was I expecting--he is a man.

Reasons I'll Never Be Mom of the Year

1. I made a toy for my son after taking an Ambien. (However, it does seem to be his favorite toy. Loads of ribbons on a key chain.)

2. On Tuesday, my son almost choked on the aforementioned Ambien Toy. There is a piece of green rick rack on it that was lodged in his throat. I was working and I heard this hacking coming from his pack and play. Sure enough, I had to pull the rick rack out of his mouth. Remember when you used to swallow spaghetti and then pull the noodle back out? This is what it was like. Note to self, the Ambien toy, despite its catchy name, is not a sleepy time toy.

3. On Wednesday, I let my son roll off the couch and onto the floor. I was getting ready to feed him and had left his burp pad in the kitchen. As soon as grabbed the burp pad I heard a thud, then a pause, and then blood curdling screams. After many cuddles, he calmed down and took his bottle. There were no bumps or bruises.

4. When taking him to see Santa yesterday, I accidentally dropped his coat in the mall and then later could not find it. I'm guessing it was stolen as there is only about 5 minutes time in which the coat's where abouts cannot be accounted.

5. I'm forcing my son to take an extra nap today so that he can stay up late tonight and go with us to a friend's Christmas party.

Obsession, Sadness, and Manliness

For starters, it has come to my attention that I may have a sickness. Well, let's call it an obsession. To my son. Is it unhealthy? I'm beginning to wonder. I have changed the lyrics to the Sound of Music's "My Favorite Things" to include items like "Henry's cuddles," "Henry's brown eyes with really long lashes," and "kisses from Henry." I've started a fan club network on Facebook. And then there is this blog. Sometimes I wonder if I'm too Henry-obsessed and if I'm putting an undue burden on my son to be cute or adorable. But then I remember that all Henry has to do is breathe to get my love and then I'm okay. I'm just a first time Mommy. And it is hard to be humble when your son is so friggin' cute. Look at him ready to go run errands in the snow.

I'm also a bit sad lately. I'm really tired of the writers strike. There are no more new "How I Met Your Mothers" and I'm having of bit of Barney withdrawal. Sloan saying "What Up?" or us having "Slapsgiving" doesn't help. It only makes me miss Neil Patrick Harris all the more. And they ended the season of Heroes prematurely. And Scrubs' last season may be cut prematurely too. The only thing keeping me happy on TV is that Guiding Light is still going strong and Project Runway has started up its new season--and there are, once again, a great bunch of crazies and marys to enjoy. What am I supposed to TiVo now?

And I'm sad because I no longer sleep with Baby P. I have passed on the teddy bear to Henry and he seems to enjoy that it smells like Mommy. (I'm laughing right now as I type because Henry is in his exersaucer grunting and red faced--must be making a present in his pants for Mommy. What joy!) I now sleep with my teddy bear Magee from high school. Yes, I'm 30 and sleep with a teddy bear. What of it?! I also delight at Kabuto's when they sing me the Japaneses happy song for my birthday. Yippee Me! But I am very proud to say that my son is manly. He had his follow up flu-booster shot this morning and he didn't even flinch. So we went to get a Gingerbread Latte at Starbucks to celebrate! It is also Henry's first snow--which he seems to be perplexed by. But isn't he cute all bundled up?

Happy Birthday to Me

So yesterday was my thirtieth birthday. Henry gave me a sweet "My mom is wonderful" picture frame. I put the picture of me holding him right after he was born, before he was whisked away to the NICU. Sloan gave me a Christmas ornament and a massage gift certificate and is taking me to Kabuto Saturday night.

Henry and I went out to lunch and then we met Sloan at the Christmas tree place for Henry's first Christmas tree. We chose the tree that he tried to eat. We put it up last night and Henry and I have been decorating it today. What fun! He loves the lights and I'm thankful that he is not crawling. Next year should be interesting.

Pictures from Thanksgiving

Joshua (age 6) asleep in my old toddler bed in my room at my parents' house. How sweet!

Henry and his sweet cousin Isabel love one another as they hug each other good night. (Sorry it is dark--it was taken with Sloan's phone sans flash.)
We are thinking of sending this photo of Sloan, Biff and Isabel to Hillary for her to campaign with in Vermont and San Francisco.
What is my mom doing to me?
From our Christmas card photo shoot. Yes, my son is outdoors in the freezing cold with no shoes on. This is also the first picture I've seen where he even remotely looks like my son.
Apparently there was some sort of finger sucking contest going on here between Isabel and Henry. I think maybe Isabel is winning for having one in her mouth and another up her nose.

The two Marshalls. Also, notice that Henry now enjoys sticking out his tongue. This is a trick Sloan taught him and he has yet to put his tongue back inside his mouth. Oh well.

Grandma and Grandpa Phillips with Violet (almost 7), Bo (almost 5), and Henry.

Henry's 14 month old cousin, Gigi. As you can see, sweet chubby cheeks is common in the Phillips family.

Henry's first visit to a playground. He enjoyed swinging. (There's that silly tongue again!)

Henry's First Thanksgiving

Whew! I am tired. We headed down to Greensboro last Wednesday night and spent the holiday with my folks and about a million other people. Seriously, there was my sister and her 7 kids, my brother and his 4, my aunt Ann, cousin Geoff, my aunt Jean and uncle Gene, my cousin Don and his son Ryan. It was a sweet, albeit noisy, time loaded with lots of food, card playing, and football watching. We also added to the list of things Henry likes to eat--sweet potatoes, pumpkin pie, and homemade whipping cream. (Who doesn't like homemade whipping cream?)
We also headed down to Davidson for another Thanksgiving meal with Sloan's folks and his brother Marshall's family. I used to think that Henry was a dead ringer for Marshall, but when I saw him holding him, it just confirmed that I was wrong and that Henry looks like Sloan more and more each day.
Sloan and I also went to a birthday party for my high school friend, Katharine and took Henry for the first part of it. It was great to be able to introduce him to all of my old buddies and relish in that his title is now secure--Henry is the cutest baby on the planet. I tried getting my parents to admit that He was their cutest grandchild, but all I got was that he was the cutest 7 month old. Although my dad did admit that Henry was the best behaved. I think this was because Henry and Papa did a lot of snoozing together in front of the TV. Henry sure got his grandparent cuddle quotient met!
Right now, Henry is teething. He is working on his bottom left tooth, which I lovingly refer to as his "twofer." He struggles with falling to sleep, cries if I am not in his line of sight, and I find myself constantly drugging him with baby Tylenol.

I am a big dork

I have now started a facebook group for all things Henry. The only good thing about this obsession with my son is that now, instead of spending most of my time thinking about myself, I am spending it thinking of Henry. I guess that is a step in the right direction. If you'd like to join the Henry Marshall Phillips Fan Club group on facebook, send a message to my facebook page--under Elizabeth Johnson Phillips--and I'll invite you.

First Official Meeting of the Henry Marshall Phillips Fan Club

I've stated before that Henry is popular with the ladies. But have I mentioned that he is a regular temptation for some cougars? That's right, it's not just babies that love him, but women as well. Today, for lunch, we met with the "Lunch Bunch" at church. These are three women who came to visit me pretty much every week while I was in the hospital and have subsequently fallen in love with Henry. He is very lucky to have such beautiful women fawning all over him from such a young age. He loves his Auntie Shannon because she cuddles him. He loves his Auntie Ann because she plays with his favorite toy with him. He loves his Auntie Robin because she babysits for him and lets him eat her pretty red hair. Mommy loves getting together with them too as she loves adult conversation and just some time with the girls.

From left to right--

THE OFFICERS OF THE OFFICIAL HENRY MARSHALL PHILLIPS FAN CLUB

Shannon Reppard (Official Baby Holder), Henry, Ann Long (Official Pointer and toy shaker), Robin Pritchard (President and Henry's crush). Not Pictured--Elizabeth Phillips (founder)

Henry's Christmas Stocking

I finally finished my first of about a million sewing projects for Christmas. Henry's Christmas stocking.

Complete Waste of Time

I just finished reading another book--Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson. It was given to me while I was in the hospital on bed rest with Henry and since I didn't have the strength or mental acuity to read while upside down, I finally decided to dig into the stack of books brought to me by visitors. I had high hopes for this book. Being the literary snob that I am, I was intrigued by the smoky cover and the fact that it won the Pen/Hemingway award. However, about 20 pages into this book, I was grabbing an US weekly. The book haunted me from my bedside table, making me doubt my intelligence and self-righteous reading indignation. The most interesting character moved out halfway through the book and I wanted to go with her. Sloan kept asking me why I continued to read this book that I kept complaining about, not understand that I'm too OCD to not finish a book I begin and also there is my respect for the writer. Any writer. This is what makes selecting books so difficult for me. It is a commitment, not unlike a marriage. I am in it til the end whether it is a delight or a drudge. Finishing a book is like ending a relationship. After all, I was a Creative Writing major in college and I know what sort of blood, sweat, and tears went into birthing the book. And there is no epidural for the writer. Well, I suppose there is wine. Am I crazy for not liking this book? What does it say about me that I preferred to catch up on J. Lo's pregnancy than what some orphans were doing in a dilapidated house? I think I will reread some David Sedaris just to cleanse my pallet of the slowness.

Another waste of my time was the movie Eragon. My nephews have read all of the books and I wanted to be able to connect to them. Apparently, this book was written by a 14 year old. You can tell. Take Lord of the Rings, subtract the Christian allegory, then add a dash of Star Wars, and even a bit of Dances with Wolves (why do these warriors wear feathers in their hair?!) and there you go. The dialogue was horrible and predictable. The only reason I can figure that the producers were able to get big name talents like Jeremy Irons, John Malkovich, and Robert Carlyle is that they must all have sons who love the books. Those actors must've kept asking, "But what is my motivation?" It's only redeeming quality was that the kid who plays Eragon is easy on the eyes. I'm sure it plays well among gay circles. I'm sure there were some people in South Beach who went as Eragon and Braun for Halloween. I will have to find out from my nephews if the book is any better.

My son, Lurch

Unfortunately for me, Henry will soon be mobile. He has begun to lurch about. He gets up on all fours like he is about to crawl, rocks back and forth, and then hurls himself forward--face planting into the carpet. He's given himself rug burn and me a heart attack as I am certain actual crawling can't be too far off.


Also, Henry definitely does not like peas. Yesterday, all I had to do was show him the bowl of peas and he cried. And like a mean mommy I still made him eat them. Introducing vegetables has been interesting to say the least. Adding fiber to his diet certainly makes diaper changing fun, particularly when it intersects with teething. I've learned he likes squash, hates peas, and like carrots. He also enjoys peppermint. We just started him on liquid Zantac for his acid reflux and he loves taking it. It makes for minty kisses as he has begun to react to my puckered lips with a sort of middle school boy, full on open mouth attack. He also like to hold his own spoon and try to feed himself. I usually hand him his own spoon to play with while I feed him and then let him try to feed himself at the end of the meal. Usually he just shoves food up his nose and squish baby food in his hair. So we've taken to bathing him now every night as opposed to every other night, which seems to make the little Lurcher happy.

Things I love

1. Eating Henry's Halloween candy.
2. Hearing "You have arrived" from the Magellan.
3. The ignorasaucer, er I mean, exersaucer.
4. Costco baby wipes.
5. Sleep.
6. Friends who babysit my son and love it.
7. Having most of my Christmas shopping done.
8. Watching Henry eat peas.

Kid In a Box

Step 1. Take the diapers out of the box.

Step 2. Stick your kid in the box.

Step 3. Take a picture of the box.

Henry's GGGGGREAT!!

Had a blast last night at our friends John and Kaden Reece's house. It is what I am going to begin calling the "2nd Annual Fish Stew Halloween Bash." It was great to be able to have a little one this year to snag some candy for us. Awesome! Check out our cute little tiger...

Yes--Mommy and Henry like to coordinate their outfits.

What good parenting looks like. (Or proof things have changed since college.)

The Gaggle of Kids--There's two seventies kids, Bob the Builder (who also carries a sword), Henry the Tiger, Dora the Explorer, Two Star Wars Storm Troopers, Jengo Fett, a Pirate, and a witch.

Daddy and Mommy took turns trotting Henry up to people's doors to Trick or Treat. We totally scored on yummy candy. Heck Yeah!!

Baltimore, Delaware, Philly, Oh My!

So, we've had a busy week. First we went to Baltimore and stayed with my college friends, Jackie and Cary Bizzell, and their 8 week old, Natalie. Henry was excited to finally see someone smaller than him and even christened their carpet with an Excorcist style spit up. This was not fun for mommy as she had just put on the PJs she had to go to Target for. That's right. I spent so much time making sure that Henry had enough clothes for whether it was cold or hot that I forgot to pack correctly for myself. No pajamas. I also discovered that I must've packed for the person I want to be rather than the person I am as I also packed five dresses and two pairs of high heeled shoes. We're talkin' 4 inch heels. What was I thinking? So over the course of our trip I had to make a Target run for PJs and then an Old Navy run in Delaware for a sweater and some long sleeve shirts. It didn't help that when I was packing it was 85 degrees in our condo and I couldn't imagine it ever being cool again. Needless to say, being in Delaware and Philadelphia at the end of October required more than my rainbow flip flops, sundresses, and red stiletto heels. Geesh! So after lolling about with Jackie and Cary, watching TV, and eating Dunkin Donuts Munchkins it was off to Wilmington, DE in the rain for Sloan's 15th high school reunion at The Tower Hill School.

In Wilmington, we stayed with Deb and Gary Yavonovich and their 2 year old son, Jack. Deb was a reader in our wedding and Sloan's best high school friend. Their son Jack loved playing with Henry and mimicking him. It was very sweet. Friday night we spent eating with high school friends casually--one of whom just got engaged--Congrats to Norri and Melissa and then also with another couple that got engaged just after our dinner--Congrats to Jaimie and Michael. Saturday we dragged Henry out in the deluge to tour the school and then left him with Deb's parents, the Colbourns, so we could tear it up at the reunion. And tear it up, I did. I will not go into details as it is far too embarrassing for me. Let's just say that I took full advantage of my D.D. husband and the free babysitter. I was, without a doubt, that girl.

After a much needed night of passing out, er, sleep we were then off to New Jersey for Sloan's work meetings. We were in Mt. Laurel, NJ, which is just over the Delaware River from Philly. And what would a trip to Philly be without eating a cheesesteak? So we ate at Pat's King of Steaks. Yum. And the cheese fries rocked too. Soooo goood.

After spending his first night in a hotel, we headed into Philly on Monday. PRAISE GOD FOR OUR NEW MAGELLAN GPS DIRECTION SYSTEM!!! It is fantastic and it is so fabulous to hear that smooth voice tell you, "You have arrived." Unfortunately, when you make a wrong turn she says, "Recalculating Route." Yeah, heard that a couple of times too. But when made it into the city and visited Independence Hall, The Liberty Bell, Constitution Hall, the Bourse building, Ben Franklin's grave at Christ Church Burial Ground, the Betsy Ross house, and Signers Park. We had a blast. I've learned that travelling with a baby presents some challenges and some pleasures. For starters, you begin to rank places based upon their diaper changing facilities. Five stars to the Independence Visitors Center for having a family toilet room with a changing table. I also got lots of doors opened for me and smiles as Henry cooed and giggled and flirted with Park Rangers. And you have to buy the souvenir photos taken in front of green screens if you go alone with your baby. Or you can just abandon the stroller by the Liberty Bell to take your kids' photo. Yeah, that's some good parenting. At the Liberty Bell Center I had to inform them that the Tupperware full of white powder was indeed formula. I was also struck with sadness as we visited the Christ Church Burial Ground. There were lots of headstones for children. Ben Franklin had a son, Frances, who died at age 4. And one family that had a children die at 4 months, 8 months, 10 months, and then another at 11. I am very grateful for the advances in pediatrics and medicine. And since he was such a good boy, strapped in the stroller all day long, we lolled about for awhile in Signers Park next to Independence Hall and just practiced rolling.

The next day we slept in late and then went to Reading Terminal Market to eat the Mac and Cheese from Delilah's Southern Cuisine that Oprah named the Best Macaroni and Cheese in America. We also saw Delilah on the Food Network on Bobby Flay's Showdown. It was definitely some good mac and cheese. We got back to Richmond last night around 10 and I can definitely say that I am glad to be home and in my own bed. Even Henry missed the comfort of his crib, being stuck all week in his Pac N Play. But look how sweet and cute he is in his size 12 month sock monkey pajamas.

No tricks, Just treats...

Oh my goodness. Our telephone and Internet was down for two days and I realized how addicted I am to technology. I told Sloan, "Thank God we still have our cable TV, otherwise we'd have to actually talk to one another or read a book." Thank goodness it never came to that! Ha!

Yesterday we took treats to the nurses that took care of me while I was on bed rest, the NICU nurses, and my OB/GYN. They were very excited to see Henry and my OB was curious as to when we'd be up for another kid. I told her to ask our perinatologist(Dr. Troyer) and fertility doc (Dr. Tidey)--who happen to be married to one another--to let us know when they need another boost in the Troyer/Tidey trust fund. We figure we've sent their boys to private school for at least a year. The treats, I must say, were very cute. Even if I did come up with the idea myself. I filled these little jack-o-lantern bowls with Hershey kisses and attached a sign with Henry's picture in his Hershey Kiss costume and wrote on it "No tricks. Just treats! Love, Henry, Elizabeth, and Sloan Phillips." Henry was going to be a Hershey's kiss for Halloween but after the photo shoot I decided it was too difficult to struggle with a hat all night long and so Henry is now going to be a Tiger. He looks so cute in his little Tiger costume and the thing looks so cozy, I may just use it as his winter coat. I'll be sure to post pics of Henry on Halloween.

Dude, Henry, You've got something on your face

Like his mother, Henry is a messy eater. For some reason, he refuses to look at me when he eats. He sits in his Bumbo seat on our kitchen table and stares at the cookbooks behind him. Maybe it is because he wonders why Mommy has so many cookbooks that she so rarely uses.....

Won't You Be My Friend?

I am now addicted to facebook. Thank you Sonya. However, I feel like I'm struggling to be popular and to have as many friends on it as possible. A bit like seeing how many people you can get to sign your yearbook. It also has led to me doing a little stalking of people from my past. Good times. Good times.
And it is still crazy hot here. Henry is now reduced to simply wearing his diaper. At least when he eats he wears a bib with a tie on it. Unfortunately, I do not look as cute lolling about in my undies and am reduced to wearing sundresses. Apparently, the AC guy can't put more refrigerant in the unit today as there is a forecast for rain. Ugh. So he is coming tomorrow morning. Hopefully all the sweating I'm doing will cause me to lose weight.
Also, Henry has outgrown most of his pajamas. The boy won't be six months old until next week and already is in 12 month pjs. His feet are too big and legs are too long for the 6-9 month footie PJs. I thought preemies are supposed to be small. Oh well. I did, however, get him some cute sock monkey Nick and Nora PJs at Target that are 12 months. Hopefully these will last him for at least a couple of weeks. I'm also praying that at his 6 month check-up the pediatrician will take him off of his pricey high calorie preemie formula. I'm ready to shop for this stuff at Costco.

At the Gun Show

It is crazy hot here. Our AC is on the fritz and I'm dying--it is 85 degrees in our condo. We may begin making pottery. The AC guy is supposed to be here between 2 and 4. But in the meantime, we are trying to dress appropriately. Unfortunately, Henry has outgrown most of his summer clothes and the clothes that I purchased for fall are too warm. So he has been reduced to what I've come to call his "Mansie." I first made the Mansie on the day he was christened as the gown was linen and itchy, but I needed something with no sleeves, so we just chopped the sleeves off of a onesie. It is a bit of a wife beater and a bit south beach drag queen and 100% hot!! Check out those muscles on my son!!! Is he a plumber? Cause the boy's got some pipes? That's right, ladies--he's the main attraction at the gun show. We're thinking about getting him a barbed wire bicep tatoo.

We are Those People

A lot has happened in the past few weeks. Sloan has a new job with American Furniture Rentals and will begin on October 29th. In the interim, we have decided to make the most of his hiatus and do a little traveling. We are trying to plan little activities for everyday as we have discovered that several weeks of Sloan at home being bored drives the both of us crazy.

For starters, we went down to Greensboro to visit my family. My dad was in South Dakota hunting pheasant with Biff and my two eldest nephews and we went to keep Gigi company. We also had the opportunity to spend some quality time with my brother and his four kids while my sister-in-law Pam was out of town. At the end of that day, I was saying to Sloan, "I think we should have four kids." and Sloan was saying, "Are you crazy, woman? I'm exhausted." That Saturday we saw Caroline (5) play a soccer game. Bill is the coach and has the patience of Job. Then we went to his house and cooked out, planned their haunted trail they are doing in their neighborhood, and played with their Wii. The only thing funnier than a 3 year old playing Tony Hawk is watching my niece Sarah Grace (9) box. Man that thing is fun! It was great to hang out for the day with Bill and his family with little to do but have fun. It is common for families to fall into old routines when they get together, but the truth is few of us are the same people we were when we were kids. It was neat to experience my brother as a father. He is the perfect blend of silly and strict and you can tell that he genuinely enjoys the company of his kids. And who wouldn't. They kind and hilarious. Natalie (3) brought Henry her blankie, named Maitee, every time he fussed. He loved it and she enjoyed being able to make him giggle. Also, I have learned that I ROCK AT TONY HAWK SKATEBOARDING!!!

Henry is also beginning to master rice cereal. We're still figuring out how much formula he can take after eating a bowl of cereal and I've been spit up on frequently. We laugh that our son is bulimic. He binges and purges. Seriously, if I were like him and simply vomited up food once I began overeating, I'd be skinny as a rail! He also said his first word. Sort of. The other afternoon, plain as day, he looked at Sloan and said, "Hi!" Now granted, he babbles a lot these days and he didn't mean to say it, but it happened. Henry is quite advanced. Now if only he would learn to turn left. We'd love for him to be an ambiturner.

Then we went down to Chapel Thrill where we had a whirlwind visit with lots of my old college friends. We stayed with Jen and Paul O'Sullivan in Cary. Jen was my big sis in Zeta and has two boys--Cameron (3) and Parker (10 months). They are a funny family. We arrived at Jen's around three on Friday and had a couple of beers. Jen decided we had to have more than one because otherwise we'd just get tired or a headache. Also, at one point, while Sloan, Jen and I were chatting Cameron kept whining, "Mommy. Mommy. Mommy." Jen answered quickly, "What Cameron?" "Why aren't you talking to me?" We laughed. But still, didn't really talk to him. But he was very sweet with Henry and protected him from the poking fingers of Parker. We also went to dinner with my senior year roommate, Lori Beth, and her husband, Rob, their 18 month old, Bennet, and our friend, Alyssa, and her boyfriend, Joe.

On Saturday, it was off to Chapel Hill for the Carolina Carolina game. That's right--the UNC Tarheels played the USC Gamecocks in football to find out who is the REAL Carolina. Obviously, the Gamecocks won and so Sloan was happy, despite being haggled about wearing a gamecock jersey in Chapel Hill. We weren't able to find tickets that weren't outrageously expensive, but it worked out well with Henry. We were hanging out with some friends of mine from Zeta and their husbands--Margaret and Jarron Harkness, who are expecting their first baby next Spring, and Joy and Jason (I have no idea what their last name is) who live in Atlanta. It was great seeing them again. We had a blast and Henry was definitely the life of the party. But we definitely we those people. Those people with the baby in the bar. Ugh. We started out tailgating and Henry got to hang out in the sling while Mommy and Daddy helped float a keg of Bud Light. Then we were off to the deck at Pantana Bob's where we watched the game, ate lunch, and Daddy got to drink more beers. Once again, Henry flirted with every college coed who was there. Most of them were wearing short skirts and cowboy boots. When did this become a fad? (Gosh, I'm old...) Henry was a perfect angel. He barely slept the whole day and was passed around from person to person, and yet never fussed. The only time he cried the whole day was when the jets flew over us before the game. And they were loud. Towards the end of the game, we decided to take advantage of the beautiful weather and strolled over to He's Not Here, an outdoor beer garden. Once again, Henry was the baby in the bar. But in our defense, we were always outside with him so he was never cooped up in a smoky bar.

But we are now reaping what we sowed as Henry has a cold. He is sleeping a lot. So it is now nose drops, aspirators, and humidifiers for us. Oh well. He is still a very happy baby. And just so darned cute!!!

State Fair 2007

Went to the State Fair today. What a wonderful place to people watch. Lots of tattoos and confederate flags. We saw the pig races, the high divers, the whip master, chicks being born, adorable piglets, goats on top of a barn, lots of arts and crafts and the usual State Fair fare. We did not go in to see the freak shows, but apparently there was a snake lady, a gorilla girl, and a 29 inch woman. According to my 12 year old nephew Caleb, the snake lady was a hoax and the tiny woman was real and she is from Haiti. Apparently, he paid to see her twice. Sloan and I are afraid of these affairs. In fact, we were harangued by the people working the games as we walked down the midway. They kept yelling, "Hey lady, Hey lady with the stroller, come win a prize. Hey sir, with the lady. Hey! Hey!" I just kept staring at Sloan saying, "Pretend we're in a deep conversation. Keep talking and don't make eye contact. Don't make eye contact!" Henry enjoyed being pushed around in his stroller and was wonderful as usual.

The thing I'm most proud of was that with all of the fair food, I did not pig out on fried dough, cotton candy, and a bucket of fries. I had a pulled pork BBQ sandwich and slaw and then later a frozen banana dipped in chocolate. I figured you can't go to a fair and not get food on a stick, so at least fruit was a bit healthier.

No Awards for Me...

It has been an overwhelming past few days. One of those Seinfeld periods of time when nothing in particular happens except somehow you just can't turn away. Partly because of Zoloft withdrawal and partly because I'm a fool, I have been consumed by the gravity of what it means to be a Mom. Let me explain how I'm a fool.

Last week in Bible Study we were studying the Holiness of God, particularly the prophet Isaiah's reaction. Basically, Isaiah sees the holiness of God and is awestruck by it and his own finitude, saying "Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!" I commented to my small group that I'm not really undone by my shortcomings and, as a matter of fact, seem to relish them. Convicted that this is certainly sinful, I prayed to be undone by the Holiness of God and my own sin. Big mistake. Like praying for humility. What was I thinking? I quite enjoy believing everything is OK and I'm OK and I have relatively little need for redemption much less God. Ugh.

So God heard my prayer and I was undone. I realized that what has really been pissing me off these past couple of days is the simple fact that life ain't easy. Sure, this is a lesson I've learned umpteen times before. You would think that spending three months in the hospital would've gotten me used to the idea. So I've been ticked off that I'm not getting my way. That there is this little person who is so stinkin' needy all of the time. That I'll have just arrived at the good part of the book and then all of the sudden he wakes up from his nap and wants to be fed. Or I'll have just sat down to eat and he'll poop. Or finished cutting out my fabric and finally be ready to sew and he'll have turned himself over and be angry or laying in a puddle of spit up. I think it has finally clicked that Henry can't help being selfish, that he is supposed to be calling out to me, and that I am not the baby anymore. To make matters worse the mere admission of this puts to death my dreams of the kind of mom I've always imagined I'd be. The kind of Mom who bakes brownies and puts little notes in your lunch box and packs you two puddings so you have an extra to trade, who is skinny with perfect hair and a ruffled, polka dotted apron. Sort of a modern Donna Reed with a dash of Claire Huxtable. But as a mother, I feel a bit more like the father from the Berenstein bears. Constantly falling in the mud, saying, "So now you see how not to do it..."

But things are starting to change. This morning in church something clicked. We were singing the hymn "It is Well With My Soul" and in one of the verses it says "My sin, not in part but the whole, Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more." And I thought, okay, so I'm not going to be nominated for any mother of the year awards. Why am I still bearing this burden? Get over yourself. God is not going to let you screw Henry up past the point of no return. In fact, God seems to think you're the perfect Mommy for Henry. It's a bit like I've faced my finitude, been undone, and then put back together again by the fact that it is God's job to fix me, not mine. But I do so love to be in control. And I do so want to be a good Mom.

Growing up, my dad always told me that "if something is worth doing, it is worth doing well". In college, I had a professor who told me that "the best is the enemy of the good." And then in grad school, I had a teacher, Henry Simmons, who said, "Some things are so worth doing, they are worth doing poorly." At different times in my life each saying has held merit, but I think in the grand scheme of things, Henry is right. We can't be great at everything, but that shouldn't stop us from living and loving and falling on our face now and again because in the end, we are loved far more than we know, and fear should hold no place in the Christian's life.

So I am going to just love my son. I'm not going to worry that I put him in his swing a little too much. He likes his swing. I'm not going to fret that sometimes he eats less than the books say he should--the boy has so many rolls his wrists have cleavage! In fact, I think I'm going to stop reading the books all together. (Although I do reserve the right to Google things.) I'm not going to loose sleep over the fact that this afternoon I couldn't turn my son's face away from the Television set as he watched the show Las Vegas.

Bears, Beets, Battlestar Galactica

So Henry has developed a sense of humor. He used to just laugh whenever we tickled him, but it is as if he has now discovered some things are funnier than others and it is a hoot to make him cackle. For starters, he has discovered he has feet and that his toes are funny. He has yet to put them in his mouth, but enjoys playing this little piggy with himself. He has also learned to remove the pee-pee teepee protective wipee when I change his diaper and he thinks this is funny. Mommy does not. Especially when her son pees on her early in the morning when she is trying to not really wake up as she feeds and changes him. I didn't even notice he peed on me until he started laughing. That day he also spit up all over me. Big time. Right after I'd showered and gotten dressed. And once I cleaned him off, I looked down at myself, at my newly ironed pants that were spackled with regurgitated formula and he started laughing again. Ugh.

He also enjoys the show "The Office." Whenever we quote it to him, he laughs. When I say, "Bears, Beets, Battlestar Galactica" he laughs so much he starts coughing and spitting. It's hilarious. So now I am saying "Bears, Beets, Battlestar Galactica" all of the time.

He also had his first bowl of rice cereal this week. I use the term "bowl" loosely as I mainly just shoveled the same spoonful back in his mouth over and over again. This also made him laugh. He was just goopy and giggly, unsure of why Mommy kept sticking that thing in his mouth and what was she expecting him to do with his tongue anyhow? But it is obvious that he hasn't missed too many meals as he's become quite the chubby bunny. He now weighs 17 lbs, 4 oz. That is a lot when you are lugging that up three flights of stairs in a car seat with groceries.

This week, I also have begun trying to wean myself off of my post-partum happy pills. Big mistake. Sloan was in New Jersey overnight and a glimpse of single momdom through me for a loop. That was the night before he peed on me, then pooped on me, then threw up on me all in one day. That day was only topped by the next morning when the brand new tub of Tide I'd bought at Costco fell off of our dryer and exploded all over our guest bathroom floor, oozing everywhere, even leaking into the condo below ours. Awesome. Our once adorable hot pink bath mats were suddenly black with detergent. We threw them away and I now can't find any the same color. And of course I didn't even notice the detergent everywhere until after I'd stepped in it. In bare feet. Desperately needing to pee. Sloan just started laughing at me and I'm trying not to wet me pants, and cry, but I know I can't traipse the detergent on our hallway carpet and the toilet in the guest room is clogged. So Sloan wiped my feet off with baby wipes and I finally collapsed on our bed screaming, "That's it! I'm done. I don't want anymore children. Return the one we've got." And then I heard the continued beeping of the dryer I'd gone into the guest bathroom to turn off in the first place. "And turn off the friggin' dryer!" So I'm no longer trying to wean myself off of my "Mother's Little Helpers" and have officially declared myself entitled to "a selfish phase." (Yes, my brother and sister will wonder how this is different than normal...) Which basically means I will be sewing a lot this weekend and Henry will be spending some quality time either with Daddy or in his swing.

More ladies for lovin'

WELCOME TO THE WORLD Margaret "Maggie" Bowden Kirkpatrick, born to my high school friends Katharine and Jay Kirkpatrick. Weighing in at 7 lbs and 20 inches long, she was born yesterday morning, on my dad's birthday, as I predicted.

Also, my college roomie Theresa and her husband Aaron found out that despite earlier ultrasound predictions, that they too are having a GIRL who will also be named Maggie.

What is this? Why are you people takin' my girl name? Had Henry been a girl he would've been Emma Sloan, but more and more lately I've been thinking of my grandmother Johnson, my best friend from growin' up, Meg, and also Katharine's mom, Margaret Ann, aka "Momma Hall" and was planning to name the next Baby P (if it's a girl), Margaret and call her "Meg." So what doin'?

Stinky Pickles and Bricks

I am trying to decide what I like best about being a mommy. Someone lighting up whenever I enter a room, an audience for my singing, dressing my own live doll, getting to watch Guiding Light every day, cuddles, kisses, and teeny tiny toes.

But there is also a dark side. I've gotten spit up on so many times that I now have a permanent sour milk smell. Seriously. Henry is teething and so there is more spit up than usual. I've taken to wiping myself off with baby wipes instead of bathing. (If I took a shower every time I got spit up on me, my hair would probably fall out.) Last night there was so much of it I had to call Sloan to come take Henry so I could change clothes. Ugh. But sweet.

Henry now has two favorites. It used to just be me, no one else. But now he likes Daddy too. Check out these pictures. The first is of me trying to get Henry to smile--I was making funny faces, singing, jumping up and down. The second is Sloan walking in the room and simply saying, "Hey Pickles." (Pickles is our little pet name for him. We have no idea where it came from.) I'm happy that Henry loves his daddy, but a bit sad at him loving both of us equally. I'm warped.

I'm also becoming dorky. I came home from my first day of Bible Study yesterday and told Sloan, "There's this cute girl in my small group. She's really pretty, also has a new baby boy, and dresses cool. I hope I can make her my friend." Sloan said, "Really? Maybe you should ask Mom if she can come over to play. What are you, twelve?"

To add to my dorkdom I'm becoming domestic. In addition to my regular craftiness, I'm taking sewing classes and am really excited about it. I'm making this cowboy themed bag for Henry. If I turn any more into a dork I'm just going to have to shoot myself. At least I'm not a brick expert. (Sloan watched this show on the History channel about bricks and there was this tool of a British guy whose title was "Brick Historian" and behind him was a wall full of books on bricks. I thought, imagine this guy at a dinner party. "Stewart, what do you do?" "I write books on bricks." "Really? Is there much of an audience for that?" Who buys these books? It actually makes me a bit depressed that some brick dork is a published author and I am not. He probably smells better than me too.)

God Bless Henry

I have decided that Henry is the cutest baby on the planet. Seriously. He has long eyelashes, big eyes, a single dimple in his right cheek that shows up whenever he's laughing hard, and the perfect amount of hair. I have also decided that not only is Henry the cutest baby, but that every other baby by comparison is just plain ugly. If you have a baby, then of course I don't mean your baby. I look at all of these baby catalogs, particularly now that they are full of babies in Halloween costumes and I think, "My God, where did they find all of these ugly babies? Henry could make a fortune were he to model!" Sometimes I feel bad about this, that I'm being petty and judgmental, but then I realize that no, I'm right, and you can't feel guilty about the truth.

He also is the most well behaved baby ever. He slept through his entire Baptism. Even when Pastor Shelby put the cold water on his head and kissed him on the cheek. I like to think that he wasn't asleep, but deep in prayer. That we have a deeply spiritual baby.

But I'm not so sure. This morning was the first day of my Bible Study at church where I am a leader and just as we were about to pray, Henry let out a loud belch. Not a cute baby burp, but a man-sized beer guzzling, wing eatin' burp. I, of course, proceeded to laugh throughout the entire prayer so we may be hopeless for the deeply spiritual baby.

We had a big weekend with Henry's baptism on Sunday. It was a good time and reminded me of how far we have come in a year. September 15th of last year I had my embryo transfer, so I can honestly say that he was baptized about a year to the day from when God first made him. It has been humbling to reflect on how much God has done for us and the many people who have helped bring Henry into this world. At one point, I think I counted up something like 120 people who were praying for him, and this was before he was even conceived! I'm sure my stint in the hospital bumped it up to around 200. What a treat it will be to tell Henry of how he has been loved for so long by so many.

It was also my niece Isabel's first birthday on Sunday. I wanted to get her an airbrushed onesie with Henry's face on it since he is her favorite, but opted for board books instead. It was a madhouse at her birthday party since so many were in town also for H's baptism, but it was fun. Isabel shrieked at the top of her ample lungs each time she was within reach of Henry. At one point I thought she was going to rip off his nose. I had to make sure she didn't see him during the church service of his baptism for fear of her blood curdling screams of love for him.

But as much fun as this past weekend was, it was also tiring. Even for Henry. Yesterday morning we woke up as usual around 8 for his first bottle. He took 6 oz and then fell back to sleep around 8:45. So I put him back in his crib and crawled back into bed thinking, I'll just sleep until he wakes up, which will probably be around 10 or so. No. Henry and I slept until NOON. What?! That's right. I felt like such a slob, but apparently we needed it.

What a wonderful baby. God Bless Henry.