Thursday, March 31, 2005

one more reason my baby is cuter than yours Posted by Hello

Tuesday, March 29, 2005

ahhhhhh, springtime

Ben and I went on a walk today. The weather was lovely: it was 72 degrees, the sun was shining, there was a slight, cool breeze that made the lush, blossoming trees dance. An elegantly dressed old lady made her way towards me. She mentioned the weather and how precious Ben looked. It was all so pleasant...too pleasant. As I rounded Cajon St., all of a sudden a butterfly came flying straight at my head. I am terrified of insects. I was not one of those kids who caught lady bugs and let them creep over my fingers. I didn’t catch caterpillars and keep them as pets. I dodged this mariposa only to see another careening towards my head. Then another, then another. There were tens of them floating through the sky, like locusts on the Ten Commandments. My first instinct was to let go of the stroller and run the other direction, so I reminded myself that my firstborn was strapped in, and I gripped the handles tighter and pressed forward. The butterflies had decided to mate or riot or whatever it is they were doing, and it ruined my spring day.

caught off guard Posted by Hello

ben with his bear Posted by Hello

ryan and ben Posted by Hello

my mom and brother jaden Posted by Hello

my sister danielle and my niece kristina Posted by Hello

my dad choking the easter bunny Posted by Hello

Tuesday, March 22, 2005

with momma Posted by Hello

smiling Posted by Hello

perfecting his sneer Posted by Hello

close up! Posted by Hello

concentrating Posted by Hello

displaying his many chins Posted by Hello

playing Posted by Hello

ben's day on the town

We just checked on Ben (he's sleeping), and he was rolled over sucking his thumb, with his chunky little thighs and bootylicious behind facing us. Ryan had to leave because he has papers to grade and all he wants to do is stare at Ben sleeping. Today I took Ben grocery shopping with me. He's been grocery shopping before, for one or two items, but this was the first time I'd taken him on a bonafied, two-store, hour-long grocery trip. I had a diaper bag filled with supplies, a Baby Bjorn, an umbrella, his pacifier and tons of determination. Ben was cranky before we left, but I forged ahead regardless. And after all of the preparation...Ben was awesome. He sat contentedly in his Bjorn the entire time and patiently looked around as I made my selections. He was a baby genius!!

Ryan and I were talking today about how having Ben tops all of the cool experiences we've ever had. I can't explain how much I love him. I want to nuzzle my nose on his head and breathe in his sour-milk smell all day long. Now he's developing a little fiery personality. Now he's interacting with us more. And I love him more and more each day.

As a side note and warning, I never thought I'd be able to kill a person, but if anybody ever hurt Ben, I would dig my fingernails into their chest and tear out their still-beating heart.

Pictures will be posted later today--I just received my new digital camera. The last one imploded and black juice spilled out of it. I haven't been having great technology luck lately, I guess...

Monday, March 14, 2005

our government blows...big time

Did you know that as little as five years ago, baby food was packed with pesticides, hormones and artificial additives? No wonder eight-year-olds are growing breasts and getting their periods. Well, here's something worse. Type "mercury" and "autism" into Google. What do you get?! A kid whose inoculations have Thimerosal, an organic mercury compound found in many inoculations, is twenty-seven times more likely to have autism than one who gets a mercury-free inoculation. You might be thinking, "Hmmmm. I'll bet our government, the one that is supposed to protect us and act in our best interest, is doing something about this." Well, you're a naive asshole, just like I was. They've known about it for years. They don't care. After all, babies can't talk, and parents don't know better, and poor, hardworking pharmaceutical companies can't lose money. Here's a question I will never be able to answer: How much money do rich people need? So much that they are willing to let babies get autism? Do they roll cigarettes with hundred dollar bills? Do they eat salads made of shredded money, with croutons made of coins? Do they stuff their pillows with money instead of down? Do they use bricks of gold for paperweights? How much fucking money do you need?!?! Well, apparently a lot. Our government's Center for Disease Control did a study on the autism and mercury connection, and they didn't find a basis for it. But here's the funny thing: the CDC is a major proponent of vaccinations and the president of the CDC left the organization for a cushy job at a pharmaceutical company before the study was completed. So don't worry, it's not biased or anything. The inoculation manufacturers didn't recall Thimerosal (though they say they stopped using it) even though top health officials recommended they do so, so no one really knows whether it's in the shots or not. Mercury is toxic, and pumping it into babies is not a good idea. So I'm going to call my doctor, call the manufacturers and irritate a whole bunch of people. Then, I guess I'll have no other choice but to believe them.

Sunday, March 06, 2005

butthead it's your birthday, happy birthday butthead

Dear Benjamin,
Happy 5th! It's time we tell you the truth. We called you Baby Butthead for the first five months of your life. It wasn't arbitrary--you were, well, a butthead a good deal of the time. You were born screaming and arching your back, and you never let up. But today, in honor of your birthday, I propose we retire the term Baby Butthead, even when you are living up to the name. You smile now, and you laugh occasionally, and you are easier in general to entertain. I think you are now well on the road to becoming a full-time Baby Genius. We love you so much, little man, and we are so glad that you are in our lives. You've made us wonder what we did with ourselves before you were here. You've made us better, more compassionate people. When you are sleeping, we miss you so much, we sneak into your room and stare at you and smile. Thank you for being such a beautiful boy.
Mom and Dad

getting clean Posted by Hello

not excited about the walk we're about to go on Posted by Hello

bewildered Posted by Hello

he hates the paparazzi Posted by Hello

eating cereal Posted by Hello

trying to roll over and getting frustrated Posted by Hello

with grandpa at my little sister's b-day Posted by Hello

my little heart breaker Posted by Hello

Thursday, March 03, 2005

hey big laugher!

A couple of weeks ago, Ryan's Aunt Alice, who watches Ben on Fridays, said, "He's got such a cute laugh!" It was a nice compliment, except for the fact that I'd never heard him laugh before. What kind of mother was I? Wasn't he supposed to laugh at me before he laughed at anyone else? I thought I was an entertaining person, but obviously something was missing. All I could ever get out of him were beautiful, wide smiles when I changed his diaper. Occasionally, he'd flash his gums at the dinosaur puppet on his Baby Mozart video. But laughing? Laughing I had never heard. I have spent the last two weeks trying to solicit at the very least a giggle from Ben. I'm a competitive person. If Aunt Alice could do it, so could I. I danced, I sang, I played peek-a-boo. Nothing. He would barely even smile. But then, this afternoon, I was lying on the floor with him, holding him in my arms and making silly noises, when it came: the prettiest sound I'd ever heard. Ben let out a husky squeal. Then another. Then another. I exclaimed, "You did it! You did it, Ben!" and he acted like it was no big deal, like it was any other day, like today was not the first time a person had made him laugh.

Tuesday, March 01, 2005

he's either teething or he hates us

Having a baby is difficult for a couple of people who obsess as much as Ryan and I do. Baby Ben is having a difficult time again. It might be my eleven-year old sister's birthday party he went to on Sunday, replete with twenty kids screaming and flinging themselves from one end of a pink, castle-shaped bouncy house to the other, bashing Shrek's pinata head open and smearing cake all over their faces. Ben shut down and slept most of the time. He couldn't pooh for forty-eight hours. Still, after he'd recovered, he remained cranky. And the questions kept pouring forth from Ryan and my over-active brains: Is he tired? Is he hungry? Is he soiled? Is he sick? Does he have a fever? Is he lethargic? Is he hyper? Why isn't he rolling over? Does he coo enough? Why is he spitting up so much? Could the smell from the tar from the shingling next door be bothering him? Is he sick of being inside? When I take him on walks, does the sun bother him? Does he have allergies? Does he like us? Are we boring? Are we too stimulating? Do we read to him enough? Is he eating enough? I told Ryan we needed to stop ourselves before Ben gets older and realizes that we are insane, but I can't stop myself, and Lord knows if I can't stop, Ryan won't be able to. We need to rescue each other. Ben is fine. Let me say it to myself one more time: Ben is fine. He's fine. He's fine. He's active, he doesn't have a fever, he sleeps fairly well, he eats plenty. It's just that he's been irritable lately, and I imagine that this, combined with the sudden obsession with his mouth and chewing on things and drooling may have something to do with teething. I put a little Baby Orajel on his gums this morning, and his whole attitude changed. We even went on a fuss-free hour walk today. I can't feel anything along his gums yet, but I know a sharp bit of porcelain will be protruding any day now. My poor little man...