Trick-or-Treat

A local outdoor shopping plaza, the University Village, hosted a "safe" trick-or-treating event this afternoon, where all the businesses passed out candy to kids (and, evidently, babies). We went with Mindy, Clayton, and Mr. Mindy to see and be seen -- here, the Daddies pose with their costumed babies. There had to be about a thousand kids there, no joke, which made for lots of really inventive costumes. Our very favorite was a little bitty guy who evidently just learned to walk -- his parents had dressed him as a garden gnome, with the pointy red hat and a cotton-ball beard and everything.

Dad and his baby cow prepare for a candy-collecting bonanza

Our little calf sitting on a sculpture of a calf at the U-Village

Cow indeed

After lugging his buddy around the U-Village, Dad remarked that he thought Isaac's costume was particularly appropriate given his extreme heft. We also enjoyed a moment of mammal irony once we got home, when our little baby calf wanted to nurse while still in his cow costume.

Happy Halloween

So Isaac was a cow. We found this costume at Dad's favorite store, the Nordstrom Rack, and we thought it was the cutest ever. Little did we know that the Cuteness Ray would be set to Stun once Isaac put it on.

We went to a wedding

Today my coworker and good buddy Dan finally got married to his long-time girlfriend Liting, and I and my boys were in attendance. We were very glad to have another use for the suit we bought for Isaac for Christmas -- his ensemble was just perfect for the occasion. We did have to make an emergency run to our favorite consignment store to buy him some black Robeez, since he had nothing other than sneakers and Dino-shoes to go with his fancy duds. While we were there, Dad also insisted that we buy him this navy-blue pea coat so he could have a fancy jacket, too. Here, Dad shows off Isaac in his killer new threads:

At the wedding, we sat at the back for the inevitable crying-baby emergency exit, which was expertly handled by Dad. Isaac was actually very good, and just got a little bored. He spent most of the time at the wedding standing on Dad's lap and reaching his hands out to grab some air, so he looked like he was doing a little presidential wave at all the passers-by. Needless to say, he stole the show.

Dad and Isaac waiting for me at the reception hall

At the reception

After the wedding, we hobnobbed at the reception with some other people from the lab, namely my boss and his wife, and my coworker Doug and his wife. Isaac was awesome through it all -- he was just so curious about all the stuff on the table, about all the potential baby-worshippers coming to touch his rad little shoes, etc etc. We all had a great time, especially Dad, who got to tell his life story to my boss and his wife. And we learned that Dan's sister refers to him only as "Danny", so we'll get to try that out in the lab as soon as Dan gets back from Hawaii with his new wife.

My boss's wife, my boss, Isaac and Dad, my coworker Doug and his wife Kathy at Dan and Liting's wedding reception

Me with Isaac, Dad, my coworker Doug, and Doug's wife Kathy (I was looking at my boss's wife as my boss snapped the picture)

Floor exercise

Assuming the crawling position -- what a faker!

Calisthenics Baby

Biter biscuits are the devil

Look at my messy boy -- yee-yuck.

Sleep, sleep, I couldn't sleep tonight

Let me tell you about my son and his nighttime antics. I will put them in terms of when we put Isaac down and when he woke up.

Last Thursday (AKA "The Teaser"): Down at 7:30pm, up at 6:00am. The most consecutive hours he has ever slept.
Last Friday (AKA "Setting the Pattern"): Down at 7:30pm, up at 10:30pm to nurse, up at 3am to nurse, up at 4am with a breached-pee diaper and down at 5am, up at 7am for good.
Last Saturday: Down at 7:30pm, up at 12:00 to nurse, up at 3:00 with a wet bed and down at 4am, up at 5am to nurse, up at 6am for good.
Last Sunday: Down at 7:30pm, up at 1:00 to nurse, up at 3:00 to nurse, up at 4:00 to nurse, up at 5:00 to projectile-spew that milk he didn't really need, up for good at 7.

Anyway, I will keep it short -- this pattern has continued throughout the week, of him waking up at very short intervals in the dead of night. The moral to the story: I haven't had more than 3 consecutive hours of sleep in a week. It would be groovy if Dad could help with some of this, but we let Dad off the hook because he a) is trying to defend his dissertation in less than 8 weeks and needs all the rest he can get; b) has major sleep issues anyway, and if awakened at night does not go back to sleep; and c) doesn't possess the most potent baby-sleep aid known to man...the boobie.

I feel bad nursing Isaac back to sleep so much, like I am establishing that as a crutch for him. However, anytime I go to sleep with good intentions of doing otherwise, inevitably that "otherwise" must happen at 2 or 3 in the morning when it is very difficult to have enough coordination to move Isaac from the crib to the changing table, let alone the presence of mind to think proactively. Right now I am telling myself that this is a growth spurt, that he needs some extra boobie right now. And, remarkably, I do have the presence of mind at 2 or 3 in the morning to notice how unbelievably lovely he is falling asleep in my armpit.

We think carrots coordinate best with our Halloween bib, don't you?

Dad playing with his buddy

Big guy in his big-boy swing

Chillin' in the swing

He fills out our neighborhood kiddie swing more and more now, doesn't he? Today we tried doing some actual swinging. Usually I put him in it and rock him gently back and forth, barely taking my hands off the swing. Today I gave him a little push (LITTLE) so that he could get some (SOME) speed going, and he really loved it, giggling and cooing and tossing his head back to catch the wind. Just like a little person!

Isaac's Report Card

Isaac's teacher Nicole compiled a "report card" of sorts for each of her students to let us parents know how/what our kid is doing at school. Here's what she had to say about Isaac, categorized by "Areas of Development":

Physical
* Has good head control
* Increased strength in all limbs
* Can move self around; really working (and with great determination) on crawling

Neurological
* Awake more of the time
* Accurate in reaching and grabbing
* Gazes intensely
* Explores with mouth
* Around this time, his eyes should be functioning in all ways the same as an adult

Cognitive
* Able to coordinate several systems at once (sees-reaches-opens hand when near object-grasps-brings object up to eyes and may inspect with mouth, as well)
* Reach is intentional
* Can transfer objects hand-to-hand (crossing the midline of his body)
* Interested in small things
* Continually reaching -- exploring his world -- very curious

Emotional
* Happy most of the time (with other, toys, or by himself)
* More emotions felt and demonstrated; can range from delight to sheer frustration (over not being able to crawl yet, maybe?); may also see abrupt mood changes

Social
* Likes to make noises and hear himself
* Makes an effort to establish relationships with caring adults around him (and probably other children!)
* May see more crying, as he realizes that crying will get him help or whatever else he may need
* Moving into the 7-8 mos. range, he may become more wary of strangers and/or strange places. But for now, he is generally in a good mood and friendly

Linguistic
* Lots of babbling and it's getting louder
* Responsive to adult's speech
* Responds to his name
* He is enjoying more control over vocal production

In Conclusion...
Isaac seems to really enjoy his time at school and loves to watch what the other children are doing. He has been going through a bit of a tough patch with working on crawling, but now that he can "scoot" around, he is much happier in general. He even seems happier in his quest to crawl knowing there is another solution to his dilemma.

Isaac enjoys being by himself, with the other children, or playing with an adult. He is a pretty mellow guy! And we love having him spend his mornings with us!

What?!? He likes us?!?

Yesterday provided the first evidence that Isaac actually likes us and wants to be with us.

1) Usually, when Dad greets Isaac at day-care to take him home, Isaac plays it cool and acts like he doesn't notice Dad at all. Yesterday when Dad went to pick him up, Isaac was getting his diaper changed. As soon as he saw Dad, Isaac reached his arms out towards him, inviting Dad to pick him up.

2) Last night I was playing with Isaac in his room when the phone rang. I went into our bedroom, which is on the other end of our upstairs hall, to answer it -- it was Isaac's Great-Grandma Ross calling to say hi. I brought the phone to the door of our bedroom and sat down there to chat so I could watch Isaac playing in his room, all the way across the hall. Isaac kept playing, but occasionally looked over at me and smiled. After a short while, he started to look over at me with a little more interest, and I kept smiling back. Finally, he turned his body towards me, and slowly but surely army-crawled the entire length of his room + the hall, just to get to me. This was by far the longest sustained army-crawl on record -- usually he gets distracted by other things along the way and stops to play with them.

Needless to say, we were quite delighted with these things. But for me it feels a little weird. I mean, for a reasonable portion of the time when Isaac is with me (i.e., the middle of the night wakings, dirty diaper-time, cranky almost-nap-time), he is crying or fussing or upset about something -- I guess I always supposed deep-down that one of the reasons he could be doing these things is because he doesn't like me. I know, that's silly, but think about it -- if somebody was always griping when you were around, you might eventually start to think that you bring that characteristic out in that person. I suppose because of these things I can now realize that Isaac does actually like me, and that I don't suck too bad as a mommy.

Will he grow up to be a man?

Dad has taken to scaring the bejeezus out of me recently by telling me all the life-threatening stunts he pulled as a kid. Yesterday he was grilling us steaks and there was lighter fluid involved, so of course Dad shares with us a story from his childhood, a recollection about making a homemade rocket launcher of sorts with his buddy that involved a segment of PVC pipe, lighter fluid, and a tennis ball. This delightful anecdote ended with "We should have blown our arms off. It amazes me that boys live to become men."

I don't know about any of this stuff, because, while I am not a priss, I am a GIRL and as such possess a little more sense and a little less attraction to explosive things. But now I have to raise a boy, replete with all of his inevitable bonehead boy-moves, and I don't even know the half of what I'm getting into. How can I possibly protect my little guy from maiming or killing himself as he becomes more and more aware of what fun mischief can be?

Getting ready for Halloween

Dad and Isaac with our freshly-carved jack-o-lantern. What do you think he should be for Halloween? (we already bought the costume, but I am all about the polls anyway)

A severe attack of mommy-brain

Let me relate to you a terrifying episode from this afternoon. It doesn't involve Isaac being in harm's way at all, just to keep you reading...

Yesterday I was feening for some pumpkin pie. Isaac and I bought enough stuff to make two of them today -- I figured I could give one to Mindy and Mr. Mindy, and sneak a few slices of the other for myself before Dad eats it all. Early this afternoon, I started getting a little antsy, and tried to convince Dad to take us all out shopping or something just to get out of the house. Dad said he wanted to take it easy for a bit. I took this as a cue to make some pumpkin pie. So I sat Isaac at the end of the kitchen with his Discovery Pot, whipped up some classic Claire-homemade pumpkin pies, and set them in the oven to bake. Dad then announced his intention to go work out at our apartment community's gym, and I noted that I had enough time on my pumpkin pie project to whisk Isaac upstairs with me and take a shower. When Dad got back ~30 min later, I adjusted my pie-crust foil to achieve the proper level of crust-yumminess and set the oven timer for a final 30 min. In the meantime, Dad took a shower and I got Isaac ready to go out shopping, also fixing a small pot of coffee and turkey sandwiches for Dad and I. We all got ready in record time, left the house, and travelled to Lynnwood to pick up some of Dad's pants at the tailor's. After that, I suggested we go to somewhere else to start scoping out some Christmas presents.

As Dad was driving us to our next destination, I sat back, happy with the thought of having enough pumpkin pie to feed a small crowd at home. I was additionally pleased at my multi-tasking skills, which are usually non-existent -- I had made two pumpkin pies, fixed lunch and coffee, and taken a shower, all while watching Isaac. Then I realized, to my HORROR, that I had actually not succeeded in making said pies because I had neglected to remove them from the oven. Which was still on. Which had been baking my pies at 375 degrees for nearly 2 hours. Which was surely causing our apartment to burn to the ground at that very moment, with cat-brother locked inside.

Dad raced us back to the apartment, which was not outwardly engulfed in flames. I ran inside and was not greeted with the acrid smoke I had anticipated, but instead a pleasant pie-crust smell. I turned off the oven and peeked in at my pies, which were obesely swollen with a few burnt spots in the filling, but otherwise perfectly okay. I then buried my face in my hands and cried. How long until my mommy-brain goes from being a cute running joke to causing tragedy? (although I did learn today that baking overly-filled pumpkin pies for over 2 hours does not cause any major ill effects)

The products of a mommy-brain

Isaac helps at the grocery store

This afternoon Isaac and I ran some errands, one of which was to run to the grocery store. I "forgot" to bring along his Bjorn (especially because he is almost too big for it now and prolonged Bjorn-ing makes my clavicle ache), so I thought, you know, the boy can sit up quite well by himself -- why not try the "big boy" chair built into the shopping cart? I padded it up adequately with my heavy coat so that he could swing his legs and reach the bar and not sway from side-to-side too much. I think he enjoyed himself, being able to look around at all the grocery-store stuff AND look at Mom at the same time.

Isaac's "Discovery Pot"

This was a hint from my blog-friend, who has a drawer for her little guy in the kitchen. We don't have low drawers in my kitchen, so I made Isaac a big pot full o' goodies to entertain himself with while I got a chance to fix myself some lunch. His pot contained: two peek-a-blocks, a wooden spatula, a wooden fork, a set of keys, a plastic cup, and a clean screw-top lid from a salsa jar. I say "contained" because within five minutes each item had been removed from the pot and flung onto the floor.

Night-time = playtime

Mindy and Clayton came over to play last night before the boys went to bed. They both had great fun staring at each other at first, and of course Clayton was totally enthralled with Isaac's toys. But once Clayton got down on the floor with Isaac, something very strange and hilarious happened, like a switch flipped in Isaac's brain. Isaac started giggling and shrieking his maniacal happy-baby Mothra cries, and bouncing up and down on his hands and knees. For awhile we were all just laughing at our silly baby, but then we realized that he must have thought the situation funny because suddenly it was like he was at school, where there are lots of babies on the floor -- except he wasn't at school. It makes us mildly reassured about Isaac being in day care, that he is so excited about other babies.

This is NOT the face Isaac had on for the vast majority of Mindy and Clayton's visit

Mindy and Clayton are ready for bed

What big eyes you have

Isaac practices crawling at school

Getting strong now

Isaac plays with a baby exercise gym at school

Isaac's school picture at 6 months old

What exactly do you think that look means?

Isaac's class -- the Infant Room

He's sitting in his buddy Alicia's lap, along with Lindsey

Isaac eating his pal Justin's hair

Yazhu and Isaac up close

Isaac and Yazhu gaze at the butterfly mobile overhead

Baby chain

Yazhu, Justin, and Isaac play on the mat

On our way to Starbucks in the U-Village. Does he look like he's done this before or what?

Isaac's new moves captured for posterity

Isaac helped me make some new movies today to show off his newfound maneuverability. Since we are pre-"real"-crawling, we have two major moves, the army-crawl and the tummy-pivot. Combining these two means that no "toy" is safe anymore. Enjoy.

When it rains...

Now that Little Mister is army-crawling and desperately trying to really-crawl, he is giving us little tastes along the way of what is to come. For example, tonight, in the span of one ten-minute crawling session, he showed me two new things he is trying out, now that he is getting brave with his arms:

1) On all fours, he lets go with one arm and kind of swings it out to get a little momentum. Doing this, he tucks his opposite leg under his body farther, so that he sits down on his hip, with his "stuck" hand remaining where it is. This may be a little hard to visualize, so I'll spell it out -- he can almost get into a sitting position by himself. If he can figure out how to scoot his "stuck" hand in towards his body, he would be there already.

2) On all fours, he can let go with one arm and reach up over his head to grab stationary objects, like couches and bouncy-seats. This means that, before too long, he will also be pulling himself up.

I feel like a big blog-slacker because I haven't gotten a video or some other photographic evidence of these things yet, or of his army-crawling -- I promise it will be here by the end of the week. To entertain you in the meantime, Dad helped to take pictures of *another* new skill he is getting good at -- feeding himself (please see below). If I load up the spoon and present it to him, he can take it from me and, by himself, guide its contents into his mouth and slurp happily away until the food has disappeared. It's actually not quite as messy as it sounds.

"Okay, peeps, lemme show you how I can feed myself. First you grab a nearby spoon..."

"...then you shove the whole thing in your mouth. Make sure you use both hands for the most accurate steering."

"I'm so proud of my mad skillz with Mr. Spoon"

Good-morning scooting

Army-crawling

I think my boy enjoys proving me wrong. This morning he showed Dad and I how to army-crawl, as in he can pull his body forward using his forearms. By this evening, he could do this move several times in succession to get to a toy. I will try to get a video of this as soon as I can, cause it is sooooo neat.

He also understands now that he has to move his arms to get anywhere -- when he is in his all-fours look-out-here-I-go position, occasionally he will lift one arm up and out as if to crawl forward, balancing precariously on three limbs for half a second, but then he tumbles over. I hope he doesn't completely ditch his arm-lifting efforts, though, because now adding the army-crawl to his repertoire of tummy-turning and rolling back and forth means that he can get to almost anywhere he wants to go if he is patient enough.

This is all incredibly fun and exciting for us to watch. But it is also fun not to watch, if you know what I mean -- now, for the first time (and perhaps the last time), I can put him down somewhere safe with toys nearby, and then go do mommy-things that need to get done, checking in on him every couple of minutes or so. For example, no longer do I need to strap him into his bouncer or rocking chair and sit him at the edge of the kitchen while I do the dishes, hoping that he won't get bored until I'm almost done. Now I can put him down in the living room next to his bucket-o-toys and putz around in the kitchen, looking over the counter to check that he's not wandering too close to the edge of a table or a wall. It's fabulous.

trying on a vest at Nordstrom

Isaac and Clayton play with Mindy (actually, Isaac plays with Mindy's shoe)

"Here, Clayton, I'll take care of that cow-lick"

Dad loves his baby-bot

Pfflbt to you too, flu-shot boy

Mom vs. Isaac

At least he didn't get my ears

Heredity says he may never crawl

Dad learned just last night from Grandma Carolyn that he walked before he crawled. She said he did just as Isaac did, getting up on his hands and knees and doing the rocking thing, but never could get it down. He instead focused on sitting, then standing, and walking, and dissed the crawling altogether. Now I DID crawl, but we all see the fabulous showing my genes have made in this baby so far.

Return of Ninja Nurse

Isaac got his flu shot today. I was a little weirded-out that our genius pediatrician didn't bring up the flu shot thing at our visit on Friday, especially since she commented that she would be very surprised if we didn't see her again before his 9 month appointment, given the upcoming flu season and his enrollment in day-care. Interestingly, the only reason I learned that he even needed a shot was from watching Headline News when I was up with him from 4:30-6 am Wednesday morning -- they informed me that kids from 6 to 23 months needed to get immunized. They were able to get us in at the doctor's office right away.

Now, this was only one shot today, but I screamed like a cheerleader and jumped up and down when Ninja Nurse greeted us in the waiting room. Those close to us may remember Ninja Nurse from Isaac's 2-month appointment. This lady is ultra-skilled in the administration of shots to little people. Seriously, she is easily ten times faster at giving shots than ANY of her cohorts. When she gave Isaac his 2-month shots, all four of them, she did them two at a time. Like two in the same hand at a time. Before he or I even knew what was happening, she had slapped a bandaid on his right thigh and was going to town on his left. We don't even know her name, but we have dubbed her Ninja Nurse for this reason -- she is so stealthy and fast that Isaac doesn't even have the chance to cry. Needless to say, we were highly disappointed with the different nurses we got on subsequent trips, and their unbelievable slowness compared to Ninja Nurse -- whereas Ninja Nurse is like "Oh, what a cutie (stickstick)! Wow, and I even got a smile! All done!", these fools are like "Here we go (stick, push in plunger sloooooooooooowly, withdraw syringe). And here comes the next one (hold down irrepressible thigh of the now pissed-off Isaac, stick, push in plunger slooooooowly, urge Mom or Dad to hold him still, withdraw syringe)." You get the picture. Anyway, we told Ninja Nurse today how much we love her, and we told her about her secret nickname. She said she will put it on her resume.

ARRRRRRRRRGH

Things that suck today:

* received approximately 4 hours of interrupted sleep last night
* gave a sleep-deprived presentation at work today
* will give another sleep-deprived presentation at work next Wednesday
* no shower since yesterday morning, major stink emanating from my person
* baby refuses to go to sleep for me
* baby has to get a flu shot tomorrow
* I may have a bladder infection; elimination of caffeine from diet is suggested (but impossible)
* every medical professional who asks what method of birth control I am using right now looks at me with that "do you WANT to get pregnant again, crazy lady?" look. Because evidently not being on The Pill = guaranteed fertilization
* blog-friend's darling baby, 2 weeks older than Isaac, can not only crawl but can also now stand unsupported, while my flunky baby has been stuck on his hands and knees almost crawling for over a month now
* am eating too many frosted oatmeal cookies; belly is growing again
* am unable to remove stains produced by orange-colored foods from baby clothes

Not the greatest day today, I fear. Although I did have some fun time with Isaac outside, where, unlike most other places he was with me today, he did not fuss terribly.

My big fat bundle of love wanted to go for a swing

Naughty Cat-Brother

Halloween Cat-Brother

Isaac and Dad stalk cat-brother outside our apartment

Isaac's internal monologue: "Must...grab...handful...of cat hair..."

Eye Sack ?!?!?

One thing Dad and I actively looked for when we were choosing baby-names was whether or not names were associated with any obvious and horrible nicknames. We couldn't find any with Isaac. Evidently, this is because we are no longer 5, or because we aren't Oprah. Below, a list of "teasing nicknames" potentially associated with the name Isaac, from the Oxygen channel's baby-name website:

I'm sick
Eyesore
I Suck
Prozac
Eye Sack
Iggy
Ike

Umm...our pediatrician is a genius

I just found out, thanks to our friend Google, that our pediatrician graduated from MIT with a degree in Chemical Engineering before getting her MD at Harvard. Yikes. No wonder she always seemed so smart.

My baby is the cutest baby ever

Yes, I'm sure there are other moms out there who say it, and even think they mean it. But it's only true when it comes out of MY mouth. Because my guy is just the most handsome little man there ever was. Period. We get stopped on the street wherever we go, and ladies of all ages (and sometimes even Dads strolling or strollering around with their offspring) stop and ask how old he is, and proclaim that he is just "sooooo adorable". Today we were walking at the U-Village and two old ladies made us stop so they could get a better look at Isaac, who flashed them a little hint of a grin that melted their hearts. Looking at BOTH my handsome boys, Fuzzy the Elder holding Fuzzy the Younger, one of the old ladies patted me on the arm, looked me straight in the eye, and said "You are so lucky." Isaac almost took Dr. Kira's breath away on Friday, when she informed us that he was the most beautiful baby, and was particularly obsessed with his unbelievably sultry eyelashes. She kept asking if either of us were so lucky as to give him those genes, which says to me that she does not pass down such compliments to just any baby. And everybody agrees that his fat little wrists and ankles, which look as though they are bound with rubber-bands, make him the absolute picture of bouncing-baby radiance. My very favorite part of him is his little button nose. I think Dad's favorite part is Isaac's butt, which is so riddled with cellulite that it looks as though it's stuffed with cottage cheese. Which, dear readers, is your favorite Isaac-feature? Can you even pick just one?

Adventures in Laundry

Dad says that I destroy his laundry. In actuality, I only really destroy wool items, and he is behind me right now harping on that I have now destroyed 6 or 7 of his finest woolen garments. This is all because I have major hang-ups against going to the dry-cleaners, and so I throw them all in the washer. I used to also throw them in the dryer, but I stopped doing that when I started being able to wear Dad's sweaters (at first this was a good thing for me and my wardrobe, but then I started to feel a little remorseful). Anyway, the latest casualty in my accidental crusade against wool is Dad's pair of gabardine wool slacks, which I think he was even planning to wear to his thesis defense. He has had these pants for 5+ years, and they desperately needed washing and even found their way into the hamper, implying that they were meant for the washing machine. Even though I didn't dry them, they are now "6 inches too short" (according to Dad) and reveal the extreme hairiness of his ankles. Dad requests that people suggest ways I can make it up to him.

I am also having major stain issues. I tried applying an OxiClean paste to the grease stains from where Isaac rubs his A&D-lacquered chin on my shirts, but this was ineffective. Also, I can't figure out how to get apricots out of some onesies and bibs. Another mystery -- red sharpie, inked onto one of the tags of a nicer long-sleeve onesie, has bled onto the onesie's fabric. Tips from Domestic Goddesses in this manner are very welcome. Ah, the days before day care, chin rashes, and solid food -- breastmilk was so easily removed from anything.

Do squeezy-bathtime starfish count as sushi?

Forget those monkeys. I'll stick with the sushi.