No. 2

Good morning, mama, I have two teeth now.

Six Months

Dear Tycho,

You are six months old! Actually, six months and two days, because Mama is a little late with this letter. Anyway, you are amazing. We took you for a checkup to get all weighed and measured and you're such a big boy now! You weigh 24 pounds and 11 ounces, and that puts you in the 99.94 percentile. I never imagined I would have such a big baby, but I wouldn't want it any other way. You are almost 28 inches tall. You've grown so much since our last visit.

Growth "curve" - more like a line, I think.

You have one tooth, and I think another one is on the way. You've figured out how to use it already, working on the apple slices we give you. Speaking of food, you had your first taste of avocado this week. Fun, but messy.

You totally love food. You will try anything, and there hasn't been anything so far that you haven't liked. Sometimes it's a little hard feeding you, since you want to participate in everything, but I don't think you're quite old enough to hold your own spoon just yet.

You're still not really rolling or scooting, but you sometimes lurch forward from sitting, so I don't think crawling is too far off.In any case, you're so big that you look like you could just get up and walk if you wanted to. Even to me.

You are very much YOU, now. You have a definite personality and you are sweet and funny and often demanding. You are very good for Grandma and daycare while I'm at work, but you are so happy to see me when I get home. You love to play with Daddy, and your laughter fills the entire house. You are always wiggling your legs, so it's pretty impressive that they are still so impossibly chubby.

There has been more packed into the short time since you've been born than in any other six month period that I can remember. You are such an awesome little person. I love you!

Love, Mama.

Food!

As we close in on six months, we are giving Tycho more and more solid foods.

He's been showing signs of readiness since before four months, and I can't eat with him on my lap anymore, without him diving into my plate. We've been trying to hold off until that six month mark, but we've been letting him have tastes of what we're eating since he's clearly so interested. Tycho has not met a food that he doesn't like.

Trying some mashed potatoes on Christmas Eve

Mostly he's just been trying a bit of whatever off the tip of our fingers. He's tried mashed potatoes, peas, corn, black beans, tomato, orange juice, even Indian food! This past week we've started giving him more substantial stuff, including his very own piece of steak! Which he liked very much.

Shortly I'm going to start making some purees, because while he loves going to town on a big piece of food,  ala baby led weaning, he's not actually ingesting terribly much of it, so we're going to do a little of both.

In closing, please enjoy this video of Tycho eating an apple:

Snow day, er, week.

Snowpocalypse 2012 here in Seattle. We tend to freak out here when we get even the tiniest bit of the white stuff, but it's been snowing since Saturday, and we've got quite a buildup. When you combine the sheer amount of snow we've received with the hills and the daily melt-and-refreeze, leaving the house is rather treacherous. Especially since I don't have a clue how to drive in snow.

As such, I've been home from work for most of this week. I haven't been out of my house really since Monday evening, and I'm going a little stir crazy. I initially wasn't planning to take Tycho out in the snow, since it didn't seem worth it to get him all bundled up when he really isn't old enough to really play in it. but boredom prevailed, and the results are super cute.

Tycho thinks snow is delicious.

Not only, but also.

Aaaaaand Tycho got a tooth today, too.

Babies are so fucking cool.

Words!!!

We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming of absolutely nothing to bring you this important update.

Tycho said "Dada" last night. Now, he's not even six months old so I'm not 100% sure that it actually for real counts as a word and not just like, sounds, but I mean, dada. DADA! Holy freaking crap, you guys! It's not even MY name and I can't even describe how exhilarating it is. Also, my baby has pretty much the sweetest voice you have ever heard. It breaks my heart into a million tiny pieces.

Also he is sitting like a champ. Like, he can hang out upright and play with his toys for 30 minutes at a time. However he is not super advanced in all respects. He appears to have no desire to gain mobility (I'm not complaining), and hasn't rolled over again since that one time he did it two months ago. But seriously. My kid is amazing. I love him.

Also, this:

Workin' It

Okay, so. I meant to write this post before it actually happened, but it's been over a month, oh well.

I am back at work. And it's kind of awesome, actually.

Everyone said it would be really hard, and you know? It's not. At all. I almost feel guilty about it not being hard. Almost. But not quite. I'm really happy to be back.

It helps that I was really ready to return. I was ready several weeks ago, actually. 18 weeks of maternity leave is quite a long time, and to be perfectly honest I was bored. My baby, while adorable and perfect and amazing, is a tiny dictator, and even though he is "good" (as if a baby could be bad) and not colicky or anything like that, he is very demanding and wants face-time attention at all times and only cat naps on my person, and damn if that's not draining. By the time Kyle would get home in the evening all I could say was TAKE THIS THING AWAY FROM ME! But, evening time is boob time, apparently, so no such luck. Anyway. Too much baby time for me. Not enough grownup time. And maybe it's stupid, but I was missing wearing clothing that I want to remain unsullied by baby vomit or doesn't necessarily allow access to my boobs at a moments notice and like, high heels! Sometimes, at least.

Maybe it's blasphemy, but I don't really miss him when I'm gone. When I pick him up at daycare or from Grandma sometimes all the missing him I should have been doing wells up the moment I see him and I get all misty, but during my actual workday I am fine. In fact, there have been n tears at all. I thought I would be a hot mess my first day back, and I wasn't. And I'm glad.

I was concerned about the breastfeeding thing, but so far that seems to be a non-issue. I'm able to pump enough while I'm away to cover his needs, and then some. I hate the actual pumping, but you do what you gotta do. And fortunately no one at work thinks it's a big deal either, since we share a single office, and I'm pumping (with a cover) in mixed company.

So work is good. We still haven't exactly mastered the home routine that goes along with two parents employed outside the home, so everything else is a hot mess, but work is good.

My very serious baby.

I have approximately five thousand posts up in my head that I need to type out, but babies, demanding, etc. Working on it.

Baby Fat

A year or so ago I signed up for weekly emails from Babycenter, because I was newly pregnant and excited and please, give me as much information as possible! They are kind of stupid and written to appeal to the masses, but who doesn't want to know what obscure vegetable her fetus most closely resembles this week? And apparently the emails continue after baby is born, letting you know what milestones he might be meeting this week. It's actually been nice, if sometimes a little lol, DUH, especially when a timely link to advice for travelling with an infant popped up. But this week's email just... I don't know:

3 questions about: Chubby babies

What if my baby looks fat? 

Obesity has become the health buzzword of the day. While it's unhealthy for anyone to carry too much fat, your baby's doctor is unlikely to be very worried if your baby is chubby. Some babies are born plump, others grow that way — but not because they have an unhealthy diet and don't exercise. It's because they haven't developed much muscle yet. This kind of baby fat isn't likely to stay with your child as she grows.

Should my baby go on a diet?

No. First, your baby's doctor will check to see whether your baby's weight and height are within the guidelines for her age. If she's too heavy, it's likely your doctor will simply watch to see how she grows. It's pretty rare for a doctor to be very concerned at this age, especially before solids have been added to a baby's diet.

Does this mean my baby will always have weight trouble?

No. A plump baby does not foreshadow an overweight teenager or adult. Many big babies slim down once they begin crawling and walking. They simply store their baby fat differently. As your baby grows, you can keep her fit and healthy by encouraging floor play. Feed her only when she's hungry, and avoid using a bottle to calm her when she's upset or stressed. Instead, offer her a toy or love and kisses.

WHAT THE FUCK?

I just... I don't even... REALLY?

Like many new moms, I worry. I worry quite a bit. Why is he crying? Could he be sick? Does he spit up too much? Is his poop the right color? Am I holding him wrong? Is my car seat installed correctly? Were those bitchy old ladies right about him needing a hat? Never has it even occurred to me that my baby might be too chubby. And my kid is the fucking poster child for chubby. Babies are supposed to be chubby. It makes me so sad and so angry to think that there are women that are already concerned that their babies are too fat. That this information seemed to Babycenter more important to us than the myriad other concerns a new mother might have. That we are so fucking afraid of fat that we worry about the health of a perfect, chubby baby.

I guess we can't even make it for four months in this society before we have to start worrying about our weight. And I find it very telling that they used "she" instead of "he" in this particular article. Fuck.




No cute baby pictures for this post. I will not sully my child's image with this bullshit.

Rollin'

Hey guess what!

I can roll over now!

No big!

Change

Motherhood changes things.

Today Kyle and I took Tycho out to lunch with us, and then on a trip to Babies 'R Us to pick up some essentials. We had planned to stop at Target on the way home, but at the last minute Kyle decided he didn't want to do anymore "chores" and took us home. So then I went out to Target by myself, sans baby. And chores it was not. I bought myself a chai latte and leisurely compared different varieties of socks. A mundane trip to Target is now my me time, apparently.

And then I come home to this.

The Boob Post

I suppose I should write a post about my experience with breastfeeding, since it's how I spend the majority of my time. In fact, it's what I'm doing right now.

I think I should start off by saying that I am so lucky. This has come easily for me. Tycho is 100% exclusively breastfed, with a bottle of expressed breast milk here and there, but mostly straight from the source. I say this, though, without arrogance, as I've seen my friends struggle with supply and latch and pain and babies that just aren't growing, and I am grateful I haven't been faced with those challenges. For us, this has been very easy, or at least as easy as being a 24-hour-a-day on-demand food source for a (not so) tiny cranky person can be.

Tycho is a grazer. (Like mother, like son.) He eats for short spurts, all the time. It's rare for him to go more than an hour without a snack. I can't say I blame him, as I prefer to eat in much the same way, but between keeping him sated and his diapers dry, I rarely have a stretch of time long enough to do the dishes, much less any more time-consuming chores. Especially since I prioritize showering and my own meals over vacuuming.   So things are crazy right now, and I'm not thrilled about that, but this is such a short time in our lives... Sometimes I do feel resentful that he wants to eat AGAIN, and why can't my husband start lactating and share this burden? But I try to take a deep breath and settle back and enjoy the quiet moment with my son. It's not always easy, and I'm not always successful, but when I can stop myself from trying to reach out beyond our little bubble nursing can be an amazing, beautiful perfection.

We have nursed pretty much everywhere. When babies are hungry, they are hungry, and I try to get out of the house at least three times a week, so Tycho comes with me, and he eats wherever we are. I've nursed him at restaurants, at parks, at the zoo, at family reunions, at the doctor, in the hospital. Airports, airplanes, grocery stores, shopping malls, a birthday party, yoga class, in bed, half asleep. In front of my sister, my parents, my in-laws, my boss, summer daycampers, little old ladies, teenage boys, both mine and my husbands entire extended families. I don't own a nursing cover. I've used a muslin blanket a couple of times when we're outside in direct sunlight, and not for any sense of modesty. (After giving birth, I have none.) And I haven't heard one word about my public display of my breasts, except my father-in-law commenting after the fact on how none of his family members seemed to care. I worried, as I'm not exactly the most discreet, nor do I have any intention of trying to be, but so far I've felt nothing short of complete acceptance and encouragement.

Body issues are common, I'm sure post-partum. In general, I feel pretty good about where I'm at. I can fit into some of my jeans again, however they do look a little different. But my chest challenges me. Back during my pregnancy I had very little breast development, and I was concerned that it would lead to challenges with milk supply later. But oh how wrong I was. Finally I went for a bra-fitting at a local hippie/breastfeeding/cloth diapering/baby wearing store, and wow. I went from a 32A pre-pregnancy, to a 34E. E wasn't even in my boob alphabet. I'm still kind of shocked, to be perfectly honest. So while I can shimmy into pre-baby bottoms, anything on top is just hopeless, as you can probably imagine. And even with cobbling together a new, bigger wardrobe, I find that the style I have cultivated for years simply doesn't flatter my new voluptuous body. Add to that the need to find clothes that allow for easy boob access, and I'm really struggling with my style right now. Considering my career in fashion retail, I find this particularly difficult. Even when I return to work, I still need to have access for pumping. But what I wouldn't give to be able to wear a boat neck dress!

Speaking of returning to work, I go back full time in a month. (I have more than enough thoughts on this for another whole blog post, so let's keep it to breastfeeding.) I'm committed to keeping Tycho on breast milk, for at least his whole first year, and I know that it might be difficult for both of us. We started trying  to introduce a bottle when he was around six weeks, and it's taken until quite recently for him to accept it without a fight. We make sure he has at least one bottle everyday, so that he maintains his bottle-feeding skills, but this is very frustrating for me, more of the milk I am pumping goes to these bottles instead of into my frozen stash. I had quite a bit stored, but before we left town I gave it all to a friend in need, so I've had to start all over again. I'm hoping to have at least 100oz frozen before I go back, and I think I'll get there without too much trouble. I am, though, concerned with being able to keep up with Tycho's demands pumping at work. I do pretty well with the pump, but at home I usually pump from one breast while the baby nurses from the other, and I get a much better letdown than I would by pumping solo. But I'm trying not to worry about it until I actually have a reason to, if at all.

So all in all, breastfeeding is going pretty spectacularly for us, and mostly I like doing it. It's so cool to look at Tycho and be able to say, "I made that."

Jet Set

Please excuse my absence, friends. We've been busy with travel. That's right, Tycho took his first airplane-type trip to meet his relatives in Ohio.

I stressed over this trip. I worried and ranted and ultimately researched my butt off on how to make things go smoothly. And on the way there, they did. I wore the baby through the airport. I was going to use the Ergo, since it's my everyday carrier, but at the last second decided to wear the Moby instead, since it seemed easier to sit in for long periods of time. (I packed the Ergo in my carry-on just in case, but ended up being happy with my choice.) We borrowed a Snap 'N Go stroller frame, popped in our car seat, and piled our luggage on top for easy airport navigation. I had to have some additional screening because I asked for my breast milk to be hand screened, but it was no big deal. We were able to gate-check our car seat and stroller, and we were seated in the very last row of the plane, for easy access to the lavatory for diaper changes. On the second leg of our trip our flight was only partially booked, so we were able to bring the car seat on board and give Tycho his own seat. I didn't specifically nurse him on take-off or landing, because he wasn't hungry during those times, but he didn't cry or fuss, and beyond the normal discomfort of sitting in a cramped airplane seat for hours on end, air travel was no big deal.

The trip itself was pretty lovely. The transition wasn't hard for Tycho at all; we co-slept at my in-laws just as we do at home, although he kept on his Seattle schedule, which made for some very late nights. But hey, vacation, we can sleep in. We left him with his Grandma and Grandpa a couple of evenings to go out with friends, and his first time(s) being babysat went as smoothly as you could imagine. And I didn't even stress out too much about it.

I think perhaps my favorite thing about the trip is this. We spent some time paging through old albums of baby pictures of Kyle and found something astonishing:

I seriously couldn't believe it. Everyone we showed it to thought it was a picture of Tycho at first. It really could be a picture of Tycho, if Tycho had a velour tracksuit. I need to procure him one. It's funny to me, because although it is obvious that he is his father's son, I really just see "Tycho" far more than I ever see either of us in him. But I am his mother and that is how it should be, I think.

The trip home was slightly more difficult, with delayed flights, rerouting, no layovers, many extra hours in the air, and Kyle and I being separated in middle seats in different rows. By the end of the second flight Tycho had had enough of sitting on my lap for hours on end with no time to stretch and wiggly and here I am sandwiched between two strange men with my boob out while my baby cries and spits up all over me. I'm still not completely over it, if you couldn't tell. But I supposed all's well that ends well, and we made it home in one piece, minus a little bit of a sleep regression, but that may be tied to some growth-spurting, too.


In other news, Tycho is three months old today. I can't believe how much he's grown, both physically (and how!) and developmentally. He is not at all the same baby we brought home from the birth center. He interacts with us now, he coos and shouts and grunts and he can stick his fists into his mouth and hold onto some of his toys and all of the sudden he miraculously will tolerate tummy time for more than three seconds. A couple of weeks ago this all really started to feel real and permanent for me. Before it just seemed like we were simply playing house, and sometime soon someone would come and take him back and things would go back to how they were before. But the new reality has solidified for me, and I truly feel like I am his mother, and always will be, and that is that. And that is nice.

Welcome!

Hi there. Recent data suggests that lots of people I know are reading. Or that lots of strangers that coincidentally live in several places I have friends and family are reading. Anyway, hello! Congratulations on your successful Google-ing. Sorry if you now know waaaaaay more about my cervix than you ever desired. You should comment, so I will feel less lonely.

Thank you for your time. Here is a cute baby picture:

End of Summer

I guess it's officially been fall for a few days now.  The weather has certainly been hinting at it. (Aside: navigating the rain with a baby is a whole different ballgame.) But the sun was out on Sunday, so we picked up some fried chicken (Oprah's Favorite!) and headed to Gasworks Park for a picnic, just the three of us.

I love my little family.

This morning we took Tycho to his 2-month doctor appointment. He is still exceedingly healthy and perfect and amazing, and he now weighs 15lbs, 8oz. That's the 97th percentile. I'm sure by our next visit he'll be off the charts entirely.

Tycho also had his first round of immunizations today. He took them like a champ, and he only seems to be a little extra fussy. Nothing some extra cuddles and kisses and constant boob-access can't cure. I think we're going to make it without any tylenol, and I couldn't be happier.

Life is good.

Bunny Slippers

I've been meaning to post, but as I'm currently typing one-handed while nursing, it's not going to happen right now. But I do have something for you:

Baby-Making Music?

I worked really hard on my labor playlist. It's really lovely. Probably not for anyone but me, though. I listened to it a lot in the days and weeks leading up to Tycho's birthday. It helped me get to a happy, calm, zen kind of place, which was especially important when I was approaching that 42 week deadline.

But I didn't actually listen to it in labor. When I was hanging out at home I felt very content with the normal sounds of a peaceful summer Friday on our quiet dead-end street, so no music. And by the time we got to the birth center, all I wanted was to get into the damn tub, and no one even thought to plug in the iPod, so no music. Tycho was born into silence. Well, silence, plus all my screaming and moaning, of course.

I'm not at all upset about that. It turns out my labor playlist also makes an excellent mellow evening breastfeeding playlist. One night we were listening, and my mom came over to cuddle Tycho. She asked me why I was playing Cat Stevens, as Cat Stevens is not really my usual fare. I told her about the playlist. "This was on mine, too," she said.

We listened longer, and maybe half the songs I had chosen for my labor were on the mix tapes my dad made 26 years ago, that he and my mother listened to while I was being born. Lovely.

Grandparents

Hi Blog!

We here at Science Experiments had a very busy Labor Day weekend. My in laws came from Ohio to meet Tycho for the first time. Originally they hadn't planned to make the trip out here, since we'll be flying back at the end of this month so that Tycho can meet the entire family, but I think once he was born they couldn't stand the waiting any longer.

Tycho meeting Grandma and Grandpa

It was a good visit. Unfortunately Kyle had various work-type stuff going on, so Tycho and I mostly hung out with the in-laws by ourselves. Not bad, but since they live on the other side of the country, I've never spent that much time with them, so it can still be a little awkward.

They left yesterday morning, and Tycho and I used the rest of the day to recover from the busybusy. We certainly needed it.

One Whole Month!

As of this past Tuesday, Tycho is a month old. A month! That is crazy!

He's doing very well. So well, in fact, that I'm kind of just waiting for the shit to hit the fan. After such an easy pregnancy and labor and birth, you think I'd get dealt a shitty card somewhere in the past few weeks. But really, he is awesome. Breastfeeding has come pretty easily to us. My letdown can be kind of overpowering, but it hasn't stopped him from getting appropriately fed, and at the very worst it's just a little bit messy. No big deal.  He does spit up all the time, but I don't think that's really that out of the ordinary. Sleep is still tricky, as he seems to still be semi-nocturnal, but it's improving, and that's all I can really asked for.

So much has changed in a month. He is growing like a freaking weed. He's in his 3-6 months clothes already. I'm glad I didn't really buy very much newborn or 0-3 stuff. He's getting much more interactive. He can stick out his tongue. And he's smiling for real now and it's amazing. Especially when you give him big sloppy kisses, which is my favorite thing in the world to do. And it seems to be his favorite thing, too.

Tycho had his one month doctor visit today. He weighed 12 pounds, 2 ounces, if you can believe it. That puts him in the 92nd percentile. And he's in the 95th percentile for height. I never would have guessed I would produce such a big baby, but I love how chubby and robust and healthy he is. Perfect.

Birth Story, Part Four: The Aftermath

They wanted me to try and pee before they stitched up my nether regions, so Tycho and Kyle settled in for a nap while I made my way to the toilet. Once I got there I was feeling very light-headed and nauseous. No wonder, since I had barfed probably fifty times during my labor. (I apparently won the award for barfiest labor ever, hurrah!) I am an expert at fainting (see: every time I donate blood), and I could feel it coming on, so I laid down on the floor next to the tub with a cool wet washcloth on my forehead.  After resting there for a while I tried sitting up again, but that quickly proved to be a bad idea, so back to the floor.

Nicole was really sweet and was trying not to be pushy at all, and asked me if I wanted some IV fluids. YES, PLEASE. While that was going on she fed me some yogurt. She asked if I ever imagined that my birth would end with me lying on the bathroom floor being spoon fed by my midwife. I said no, but if you had told me that, I wouldn't necessarily have been surprised. They did Tycho's newborn exam on the floor next to me while Kyle was napping. He was perfect.

After a bag and a half of fluids I was feeling much better, so after finally attempting to pee (great success!), I made my way back to bed to get my lady parts stitched up.  I had a second degree tear in my perineum, and two first degree labial tears. I think I got five stitches in total. It was very bizarre feeling. Not painful, as I was numb from the lidocaine, but I could still feel the thread getting pulled through me.

We attempted nursing one more time while they cleaned me off and he managed to suck for more than a few minutes. I cuddled with my new family in the quiet of the morning while Nicole and Tara cleaned up the room. They dressed Tycho while Kyle loaded up the car, and then we were on our way home, as three.

Tycho is amazing, and I'm really loving my new normal.

Prologue | Part One | Part Two | Part Three