feedin' mah self

I iz not so gud at it.

Everything is awesome today.

You know the part in "The Music Man" where Marian sings 'till there was you? (no? come on, bone up on your musical theatre!) anyway, I'll provide the lyrics for you:

There were bells on the hill
But I never heard them ringing,
No, I never heard them at all
Till there was you.

There were birds in the sky
But I never saw them winging
No, I never saw them at all
Till there was you.

And there was music,
And there were wonderful roses,
They tell me,
In sweet fragrant meadows of dawn, and dew.

There was love all around
But I never heard it singing
No, I never heard it at all
Till there was you!

Anyway, I've always liked that song, A) because it's a pretty tune but B) because I think, for a short cheezy song it does a pretty good job of describing a feeling that everyone has once in awhile - when something good happens and all of a sudden you realize that everything else is good, too.

I've been absentmindely humming "'till there was you" to myself all day, because Owen is finally, FINALLY, sleeping through the night. And everything is better. Everything! Work is easier, it's more fun to play with him, I feel healthier and exercising is less of a chore. I am actually really enjoying my life right now and most especially my funny, charming, mischevous son. I can't even think of anything to be gloomy about, which is rare, because as you might know, I'm kiiiiind of a pessimist.

Don't worry. I haven't gone TOO far off the deep end. There's always global warming and the recession. I'll be back to my old self tomorrow.

In retrospect, am I sorry that I didn't take a harder approach and bring this day sooner? I know most people thought I should just put him in the crib and close the door, and leave him there till morning letting him cry all night if I had to. Eventually (or at least I assume) he would have gotten the picture and slept through, and maybe I could have been all roses and sweet silver meadows six months ago. But I guess sleep training is just not for me. I honestly feel that Owen couldn't sleep through the night until he was ready to, and that pushing him to do it sooner when he clearly was resisting it so strongly wasn't the right thing. I know there are lots of babies who are ready earlier, and for whom sleep training works quickly and without heartache on either end. But Owen wasn't one of those kids. The day I walked in after letting him scream and bang for 10 minutes only to find his mouth dripping with blood because he banged his face on the crib rail sealed the deal for me. Unfortunately I had a kid who was just not going to go gently into that good night. (man, I am FULL of these cultural allusions today.)

And so we seem to have made it. Owen's slept through the last 4 nights in a row and is waking up cheerful and babbling in the morning. And it's wonderful.

there were bells, all around, but I never heard them ringing...

too good to be true?

for those of you who only check this blog for the photos, I'm sorry, because our digital camera is officially dead, so it might be awhile before we can replace it. But, I have some cautiously optimistic news to report: Owen has slept through the night (meaning, without waking up until at least 5:30 am) 4 of the last 7 nights. I, of course, have been waking up 4-8 times a night in a panic thinking he's dead, but I expect that fades.

He turns 11 months tomorrow. wowzers.

You can't babysit your own children

A chef at cooking school, upon hearing I was getting married, pulled me aside and imparted these words "you can't babysit your own children. Never tell your wife you'll babysit the kids." She was right, but Owen has become less of a dependent than a partner in crime. Today Jenny's working and we've been raising hell. We ate cookies all morning and jumped on the bed. This afternoon we're going to braise lamb shanks and listen to offensive music. Our camera has official expired, the power light flashes low battery even with brand new energizers. So I had to capture a few of his first steps on my phone. The quality is terrible and I can't get his whole body in the frame, but I'll talk you through it.

He starts out playing with his table and sees me. He tries to crawl over so I help him stand up. I'm doing this one handed while he tries to grab the phone, but the footage starts at around second 15 and it's mostly his bobbing head.




Owen proceeded to grab the phone and take his own video. The chiaroscuro is darkened and the plot takes a while to develop, it's reminiscent of Jim Jarmusch.



And here's one of slightly better quality that doesn't involve walking but rewards those who stuck with this post until the end.




-andy/dad

Stop the presses, babies turn into children.

I was at the grocery store yesterday, and Owen was making faces at a woman who was standing nearby, debating between Newman's Own and Muir Glen tomato sauce. She said to me, "how old is he, about one?" and I empahatically denied that my baby could be anywhere close to one. "oh, no. no no." I said. "He's 10 months. Well, 10 1/2. He'll be 11 months February 15th". And the woman looked at me like I was a little slow, and said, "So....that's about one."

oh. mah. gawd. That IS about one.

I realize that this isn't (or shouldn't be) a news flash, but I just can't beleive how fast this year has gone. It's not for lack of people telling me it would go quickly - sometimes I feel like people are robots with three to five programmed responses when they hear the word baby: "how old?" "does he sleep?" "it goes by so fast!". You hear it about a dozen times a week but I've always felt like it's just one of those things, like "how are you" that people say. They don't care how you are. It's a stock phrase. But yesterday I realized how very, very fast it does go.

When your baby is one, you start referring to him as your kid, or your son, and less as your baby all the time. One year olds have a personality, and a sense of humor. They're sneaky. Owen walks and does things he's not supposed to do to get my attention if he thinks I'm ignoring him. He doesn't drink from a bottle anymore. He has six teeth. When your baby is one, people ask you when you're having another one and they're not teasing you. When your baby is one, you no longer just had a baby. you just....have a baby. When your baby is one, you transition from being a couple that is adapting to having a baby in the house to a family of three. When this big can of formula we're on right now is gone, I probably won't buy more. Because one year olds drink milk. Like regular people.

And so I probably AM a little slow, because I had this major revelation yesterday in the tomato sauce aisle. Crazy town.