Thursday, September 24, 2009

Like a brother.

We are so blessed with our daycare provider, Elisha. Not only is she wonderful to Calvin (I have never seen him anywhere but in her arms), she is on my way to work, has six well-behaved kids of her own (and therefore PLENTY of experience), has hand-picked a small group of children to care for, and is affordable.

As I've told a few people, I knew she was the right person to care for my baby when she called to ask if Nate and I would feel comfortable with her taking Calvin to the library and bible study.


Yesterday when I picked Calvin up, she told me that she had this conversation with one of her little boys (she has a 2-year-old and 3-year-old at home during the day, and they are both adorable):

Little one: Mom, I love baby Calvin.
Elisha: I am so glad you love him and get to play with him every day!
Little one: I wish he could stay longer.
Elisha: Well, he's here for a long time every day, and will keep coming to play with you.
Little one: But I want him to live here, like a brother.
Elisha: That is so nice of you! You will have to ask his mommy if that's okay, though.
Little one: Can you ask her?

We could not be more thankful for this family.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Give me (seventy) five.

I realize these are the kind of posts no one cares about except me, but in addition to being an outlet for all my rants and raves and a spot to post pictures of my incredibly cute kid, this blog is also handy for record-keeping. So, get excited for some stats!

We took Calvin to the doctor for his four month well baby visit yesterday. We've got a heavyweight champ on our hands: 15lbs 10oz. How is this possible? The kid has gained six pounds in four months. I guess it's not that bad though, the doctor said he's still in the 50-75th percentile for weight and the 75th percentile for head circumference. Right on track.

What isn't on track is his length. According to yesterday's measurements, Calvin has only grown half an inch. (?) The doctor said his measurements must be off, because it makes no sense for him to have gone from the 95th percentile to somewhere between the 25th and 50th. I mean, Nate and I are 6'2 and 5'10. I don't think he's destined to be a shorty. And he's outgrown the length of his clothes faster than the width. So, I'm going to invoke my medical privileges, average the two out, and declare him in the 75th percentile all around.

The doctor also said that, based on the things he's doing right now (rolling over from back to tummy, responding to his name, etc.), Calvin is functioning at a six-month-old level.

What a good little grower.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Drop the Barbie.

While most people relate just about any situation in life to an episode of Seinfeld, I do the same with Friends. I've seen them all, I know them all by heart.

While I was in IL visiting my parents, my mom pulled out this little Beanie Baby-style teddy bear for Calvin to play with. It's the girliest thing ever — a bright pink swimsuit, a cluster of flowers on her ear, a pink and yellow beach ball, and huge platform sandals. I started laughing and asked if there was maybe a boy bear for him to play with. There was, and we gave him both.

He LOVES the girly bear, and wants nothing to do with the boy bear. He cuddles with her all the's the first stuffed toy he's latched on to, and we've tried a few. I'm beginning to think this little lady might become his security blanket. Or his first girlfriend.

This reminds me of the Friends episode where Ross' ex-wife and her lesbian partner let his son, Ben, pick out a toy from the toy store — and he chooses a Barbie with a "kicky beret." Ross totally freaks out and, during his weekend with Ben, attempts to swap it for a G.I. Joe:

While I'm sure Nate has considered purchasing Calvin a G.I. Joe (or whatever the baby equivalent might be), for now we're just giggling at our cute little boy and his pretty pink friend. Worst case scenario, he'll turn out like my brother, who, when forced to play Barbies with his two sisters, dressed them up like hookers.

For future reference: Canadian Mountie Barbie's tall boots + Barbie and the Rockers' white "leather" miniskirt = hot stuff.


I dreaded the arrival of September 14th all summer long.

I remember how happy and relieved I felt when I packed up my desk and headed home for what I thought would be three weeks of bedrest before my May 24th due date. I was huge, and exhausted, and had a mad case of babyitis. Sitting through eight hours of work was getting harder and harder, so I felt as if a very heavy weight had been lifted when my doctor ordered me to spend the rest of my pregnancy on the couch. All I could think as I left work that day was — I have THREE WEEKS AND FOUR MONTHS off from work. That's like, forever.

Turns out I only had two weeks and four months off from work. And it was definitely not forever.

Forever is how I now feel about working. As in — I will have to say goodbye to my baby every morning, Monday through Friday, from now until forever.

Forever is how long I will feel guilty about leaving Calvin with someone who is not me for nine hours every day.

Forever is the amount of time I will treasure those first four months at home with him, because they were precious and I know I can never have them back.

Forever is the number of days I will miss him when we go our separate ways.

This week, in these first few days back at work, forever feels scary and overwhelming. But I know I won't be this sad forever. I won't be crying when I put him to bed at night forever. I won't feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest every morning when I leave for work forever. We'll find a routine, a pattern, a new way of going about our days. Time flies. In another two weeks and four months, I'll be settled into work and he'll be settled into daycare, and we'll both be fine. We'll play and read and laugh and cuddle together when I am home, just as we did this summer. I'll soak up the moments I'm with him and they will sustain me when I'm not.

He will be my baby, forever.

Sunday, September 6, 2009


I know, I know. It's been two weeks without an update. You've probably given up on me and my lame blog.

Believe me, I have things to say and pictures to post. But I go back to work a week from tomorrow, and my priority for the next seven days is to enjoy every minute I have at home with Calvin.

So, I'm asking you to stick with me for another week. I'll be back soon, promise.
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