Not much here...and yet I blog

Blah, blah, boring ol' day. But I bet I can think of some things to set down in writing about what's going on here anyway.

*Isaac can point now. It was almost seamless the way his "black power!" gesture (you know, suddenly jutting his fist out into the air) turned into a "look at that thing over there" with a simple extension of the index finger. He is not yet an expert at the point, but when he really wants to, he does it.

*It is just amazing how much he really looks like a little person now, particularly in certain outfits. Today he had on a long-sleeved t-shirt and some cargo pants, and you could have sworn he was two. Whoever decided that baby pants could have pockets and those strange loops for their hammers needs a Nobel Prize, because such minor additions make my boy look just. so. cute. It also helps that he is now so mobile as to be even adult-like in his movements. Case 1: today he spent a goodly amount of time dropping the remote into his stroller seat and then retrieving it. The stroller seat, however, is blocked by the stroller armrests, so instead of just reaching over to get it, Isaac had to sttttrrrreeeettttccch onto his tippy-toes to look over and see where it was to grab it. Case 2: he noticed from across the room that many interesting objects lay scattered just under the couch. He crawled over there, stuck his hiney up in the air, pressed his face against the floor to get a better look, and then took turns waving each arm around under the couch to fish for that empty Pringles can [bad Dada!], just like you or I would do.

*Dad went out and got us a new TV yesterday. Our current TV had been in business for Dad, and then for Dad + me, for over 13 years, and was starting to make crazy sounds and ghosting late at night. So reports Dad, anyway. Our fancy new TV is HD (ooooooh) just in time for the Superbowl, baby. Who's coming over to watch it? Jen Horwath, waddya say?

*Thanks to Erin for suggesting we TiVO "Go, Baby!", a 5-minute show for babies, featuring a baby, on the Disney channel. Isaac loves it.

Sleep? (((yawn))) Who needs sleep?

I guess I have to go through my periodic temper-tantrums about Isaac and his sleep issues, because today I am over it again. Sigh. He has a bad head cold and the snot flows so freely that I can't even take a nap next to him because it's torturously loud to listen to him try to breathe through that stuff. Maybe sometime this week the snot will disappear and he might stay disease-free!!! for a little!!! Maybe!!! Not that I haven't enjoyed nursing my boy, but at this point I have had it up to here with my antibodies. A fat lot of good they were.

We introduced Isaac to his lovey (yeeyuck) starter kit last night. I doubt he noticed, but at least the seeds are planted. I am now trying to associate pleasantness with the green satiny blanket, wrapping it around his lap when we sit down to read together or rubbing his legs with it when he's nursing.

But I am inspired today from a visit over to Mindy and Clayton's before bed. We got there just as Clayton, an infamously good sleeper, was winding down for bed, so we got to actually witness the routine of a successful sleep story. Here it is -- ready? -- Clayton starts rubbing his eyes or yawning, and it's into his darkened bedroom he goes. Mindy starts up his aquarium (which Isaac also has), wishes him goodnight, and leaves the room, closing the door behind her. The whole time, Clayton is screaming bloody-murder (well, as "bloody-murder" as Clayton gets, whose lung power absolutely pales in comparison to our budding opera singer), though it is obvious how tired he is. A few minutes after Mindy leaves, Clayton stops screaming and goes to sleep, not waking up usually till 8 the next morning. And that's it. I think we will break down and try this sort of approach with Isaac when he gets un-sick -- a sort of "cry-it-out". Our pediatrician prefers the wussier term "tough love", which I think basically sums it up -- Isaac, man, I love you more than I ever thought was humanly possible, but it's time for ALL of us to get some stinkin' sleep. Mom might actually put her foot down for once.

Throw this one here in on the "heavy-duty" cycle

Initiate "Operation Lovey"

After suggestions from Mindy and Erin, I have decided that Isaac needs a sleeping buddy of some sort (aka a "lovey", though we will limit the use of that word because I think it sounds dumb). Especially with his cold, it has become devastatingly apparent that Isaac can't comfort himself when he wakes up at night. Whereas before he was waking up every three or so hours, you know, a normal sleep cycle, his cold forces him to stir whenever he has snot issues, which is a lot, and he absolutely refuses to go back to sleep without some big-people help.

Both Mindy and Erin attribute some of their sleep-through-the-night successes to having an object of sorts that their boys are attached to. Isaac never made a bond by himself to a particular blanket or stuffed animal, so we went out to Target tonight and bought him a lovey (shudder) starter kit. For the blanket end of things, if that is what works for him, Dad picked out a plain green number, but one that has a velvety side with satin trim and an all-satiny side. In case he would prefer an object of sorts, I found this neat "teething blanket" that is just a little square of low-pile veloury-material, about the size of a washcloth, that has a little stuffed donkey head on one side and a diagonal rubbery bit on the other end for his chewing pleasure. Wish us luck...

Playing with his See & Learn Piano. "Time to play piano!" it screams, and Isaac must obey...

Dad teaches Isaac to love junk food. Also on the menu from Dad -- Pringles and Krispy Kreme doughnuts.

Isaac visits Matt & Susan

One special visit we made over Christmas in Indiana was to our friends', Matt & Susan. This past year Matt & Susan became the first of our friends to enter into that coveted burden of home-ownership, which led to much gnashing of teeth betwixt Dad and I when we checked out their new pad.
"When are YOU going to buy me a house?"
"They only paid WHAT for this??!?! You couldn't buy a lawnmower for that in Seattle."
"When you buy me a house, I want this. And this."
Oblivious of our raging jealousy, Isaac engaged his maximal cutie-flirt behavior for the camera-wielding Susan:



And his favorite hobby of pulling things off of shelves was applied to their bookshelf:

Go to sleep already

Isaac is doing better today. No fever. But everything he touches somehow acquires a green spectral trail of baby-snot. Oh well. I would turn on his humidifier, but it makes his room smell like swamp. Maybe I should clean it out? You think?

He is asleep now, after ~50 minutes of fighting it out with me. This time his resistance to the sleep was especially amusing/unbelievably frustrating, since he took a 30 minute nap in the car/in Dad's arms at Sam's Club this afternoon and that was his only nap since 10:40 this morning. By 7:00 his eyes were so dark and sunken from tiredness he looked a little like a druggie, but he his drug of choice must be meth or something since he can evidently stay up for days if he needed to.

I just don't get it. He is almost 10 months old, and 1) most nights he won't go to sleep on his own, meaning he has to be rocked, rubbed, or nursed to sleep, and 2) he hasn't stayed asleep for more than 5 hours at a time since November. In his now extraordinarily long life, he has slept "through" the night (I know definitions of this vary, but I am talking 8 straight hours here) twice.

I mean, what a jerk! Doesn't he understand that mommy needs her sleep too? Before he came along, I was really peeved if I didn't get to sleep in until 10 or 11 on the weekends. I guess this is coming to a head now because with his fabulous new cold, I have not slept more than 2 hours at a stretch the past two nights. And it would not be exaggerating to say that last night was a marked improvement over Wednesday night. But come ON. I don't nurse him to sleep most nights any more, and sometimes he will fall asleep on his own if we just put him in his crib and the stars align just so. For some time now I have just said that he is going to be one of those kids with sleep problems, like his dad. But this is reeeediculous.

So, some audience participation now -- if you have experience with getting YOUR babies to go to sleep (even if it was oh so very long ago that they were babies), how did YOU do it? Singing? Talking? Rocking? Stuffed animals? Come on, I'm dyin' here.

AgAIN?!?!

Isaac is sick. Again. We took him to the doctor just last Friday to check out his ear infection. At that time, he was still pulling violently and often on his ears. The doc said his infection was cleared up, but that he still had lots of fluid build-up that would go away gradually as his head became un-stuffed.

Last night he was up at least every hour, so full of snot he couldn't breathe in a way that he liked. I took his temperature this morning and it was a measly 99.2, enough to make him feel hot but not seem unwell, but also enough to ban him from going to school today. So he and I stayed home together today and discovered the mixed blessing of Benadryl. His doc prescribed it for him before Christmas to help him sleep through the ear infection stuff, but we never tried it until today -- we were a little wary because Dad has an unpleasant, jittery/heart-racy reaction to the stuff. Though it doesn't do anything special for me, we thought better safe than sorry and whatnot. But after his sleepless evening last night, even he was really upset about being so tired. He and the Benadryl got along fine; it just made him a even more tired. Unfortunately it didn't seem to do jack for his congestion. Please please please please please make all this sick crap leave, soon...mommy needs to sleep for more than three hours at a stretch, which hasn't happened since November..............

Mommy cooks some hits and misses

Last night I fixed a new family fave -- Chicken Tortilla Soup -- via our friend, the crock-pot. Is there anything it can't do? I think I am even winning Dad over. Here is our recipe, which serves two + a baby with leftovers and takes about 2 seconds to prepare:

1 can black beans, undrained
1 can diced tomatoes (+/- jalapenos), undrained
1 c salsa
2 chicken breasts
tortilla chips
shredded cheese

1) Put first four ingredients in crock pot; cook on Low for 8 hours or High for 2.5 - 3 hours.
2) Remove chicken breasts from crock pot and shred or cut into itty pieces; recombine chicken with soup and stir thoroughly.
3) Ladle soup into bowls. Top with crumbled tortilla chips and liberal amounts of shredded cheese.

Now on the other hand, I cooked a meatloaf on Tuesday night. I have cooked this meatloaf recipe twice now, and Dad gives it two thumbs down. I think it is perfectly edible, even verging on good, but Dad says it stinks for some reason which he refuses to disclose. Can somebody please help a girl out and post a recipe for a tasty meatloaf?

Back to my pumpkin-pie baking now...

Happy Birthday, Grandpa Walt!

Today is Grandpa Walt's 52nd birthday -- we wish him a great one, and many more!

Perhaps we should consider the circus for him?

He is learning new "tricks" every day now, mostly on his own. Added to the repertoire:

*He likes his mom to be well-hydrated. This morning I was carrying him on my hip in the bathroom while drinking some water. Of course when he saw me he wanted a sip or two or three, too, so I gave him some. As is his wont, he took the big-people glass cup with a hand on each side (and mom's hand around it for extra support) and brought it up to his face. Not new. But what was new this time: when he was done, he used his hands to guide the glass right over to my lips with a big smile -- "Now your turn, Ma! Have a drink!" He did it again this evening with the sippy-cup. Mindy says she's heard this is a shtick with babies -- they think it's hilarious to see you eat and drink the stuff they eat and drink.

*Finally, one I taught him -- kissing on command. I make a kissy face when he is within kissing range and say "Give me a kiss, Isaac," and he promptly stops what he's doing, opens his mouth wide, and turns and plants one on my lips. And I mean plant, like a leech. He doesn't bother with this puckering hoo-hah, just keeps his mouth wide open, completely covering my smoochy lips, and then hangs out there for a few seconds. Imagine how you're supposed to "kiss" Annie the CPR dummy to bring her back to life -- that's pretty accurate. But I'll take it anyway.

Dada the Bacon-Bringer

Dad's dream in life, so far anyway, is to be a geosciences-oriented professor at a relatively laid-back university. Now that we are nearing the end of our Ph.D.'s, this means Dad must pursue such jobs, a mildly scary prospect for him and a prospect so foreign to me as to be nightmarish. A job?!?!? The "real world"??!? Of these things I know not.

As I had alluded to previously, Dad went on a job interview last week to the University of Delaware. I of course only have second-hand reports, but I deliver them to you anyways. His interview went fabulously. He loved the campus, loved the people, and managed to smush his hour-long lecture into 45 minutes so he could race to the airport. Many things pointed towards success for him in this venture:

1) Several times during the process, different professors who would be his colleagues, and who would be voting whether or not to give him the job, said "when you get here" or "see you again soon" or the like.
2) He got along like old buddies with the two guys in the department who research in fields most like his. One even drove him back to the Philadelphia airport, in the snow, despite the fact that the department had reserved Dad a shuttle, just so they could chit-chat some more about guitars.
3) When he interviewed with the Dean of Arts & Sciences, the Dean told him "If it was the 'old days,' I'd offer you the job right here and now."
4) Dad specifically asked at one point whether "diversifying the department was an issue with this hiring" (read: are you going to diss me because I'm a white dude?), and they said "No."
5) Did I mention he was their top candidate?

While Delaware is admittedly far from home, we are getting excited about it. The housing market is no Indy, but it is also no Seattle, and we could buy a respectable-looking house to raise at least 2 kiddos in for $200K, which is doable on a prof's salary. Exciting also is the prospect of continuing to live in a place with easy access to cultural opportunities -- Newark, Delaware is within easy driving distance of Philly, New York City, Baltimore, and D.C. And, perhaps the nail in the coffin of it all, Dad has it on the authority of the Dean that there are like five drug companies HQ-ed in Delaware for its lenient corporate tax policies, which means when my services as a mothering professional are no longer needed I can hook myself up with a sweet-paying job in which I could actually make use of my Ph.D., too.

However, these Delaware fools are operating under the delusion that it would be wise of them to interview, like, four other lame-os, so we have to wait until the first week of February to hear from them. Dada has made an analogy: It's like when your girlfriend, on whom you have doted and spent considerable emotional energy, tells you that, while you are really great, she needs to go and sleep with these other dudes to make sure you are really the right guy for her, but it looks like maybe she'll be back next week. I think our poor Dada was losing sleep over it.

I say "was" because this morning, reminiscent of a Monday morning two weeks ago, Dada got a phone call from the Geology Department at Murray State University in Murray, Kentucky, to whom he had also applied, informing him that he was their top candidate in the faculty search they were conducting, and would he still be interested in the job and available for an interview in the coming weeks? After he said yes, the Murray State folk said they would be back in touch later this week to work out a schedule with Dad to fly out there and do his thing. Needless to say, we are so very proud of our Dada, and so very stoked. Dada extended his analogy -- now it's like, upon your girlfriend initiating her sluttery with other dudes, you suddenly get a phone call from this supermodel you used to date who heard you were newly available and would you like to go for a cup of coffee?

Yay Seattle weather

While everyone else in the country is getting pounded with snow, we are enjoying unseasonably warm temperatures here, so much so that even Cat-Brother got to go outside today.

"I double dog dare you to eat this one"

Crawling around outside with Cat-Brother. Note the coincidence of the mischevious grin and poor Cat-Brother's tail in Isaac's radar

Another place for the ball to go -- in Dad's mouth

Isaac demonstrates his sippy-cup mastery

More new skillz

Isaac has two new things he does that require reporting.

1) He wants to put things into other things. To be more specific, he has some baby-hand-sized balls that go with a little beehive toy he got from Grandma & Grandpa O'Neal for Christmas. This beehive toy thingy initiated his interest in the whole put-that-thing-in-there mentality, and he has recently mastered the ability to plop the balls right through the hole in the top, with no hestitations or fumbles whatsoever. Observe an action shot, captured by Dad, of the blue ball finding its home:

From this he has branched out into putting the balls into the large cardboard boxes that keep arriving from the Grandmas, into a dump-truck toy he got from Grandma & Grandpa O'Neal, into a ring of Peek-a-Blocks constructed by me, and, my personal favorite, into Dad's cup full of coffee, while Dad was holding said cup.

2) He blows raspberries on me to make me laugh. This is, of course, my very favorite thing he has ever done. This all started a couple of nights ago -- we were just chillin' in his room together and he was climbing on me when he became fascinated with my left calf. He goes to kiss it, or lick it, or bite it -- not unusual -- but instead puts his mouth on it and blows to make a raspberry noise, eliciting a giggle from me. He does it again, and I laugh harder. He keeps raspberrying me for like 10 minutes, egged on each time because I'm laughing. He's so sweet, he makes me want to cry.

Isaac eats cheese cubes and peas (it gets way worse -- see below)

"Don't worry, Dad...it'll take at least a few days for the cockroaches to figure out about the food-pile on the floor."

I get it; he eats big people food

Isaac and I had been scrapping for a week or so at mealtimes. He would seem receptive to the idea of having a spoon shoved in his mouth with strained [insert fruit or vegetable] and oatmeal for a time, and then just sour on the idea totally after a few bites. The only things he enjoyed were from the cracker food group; Cheerios, vegetable crackers, Gerber Puffs (aka Baby Crack). I was a little puzzled because, so far, every other finger food I had laid before him had resulted in a turned-up baby nose.

Then I started getting these reports from his day care about what he was eating during the day. Here was what he ate for ONE meal on Tuesday:
*Belizean sweetcorn & kidney beans with tomatoes and bell peppers
*Rice
*Peaches
*Strained sweet potatoes with b-milk and cereal
*Cheerios

And again on Wednesday:
*Cheddar-apple muffin
*Mexican tortilla soup
*Corn bread
*Strained chicken & apples

Here at Chez O'Neal, we don't often serve such exotic dishes, but I get the point -- Boy wants to eat big people food now. And lots of it. So I picked him up a little early from school on Wednesday after conferencing with a coworker about what to feed as finger foods, which I had done millions of times over. I picked a can of whole sweet peas off the pantry shelf, revealing a secret can of Chef Boyardee ravioli behind it. Hmm, I think. I heated up both things for Isaac and brought along a slice of wheat bread. Unlike the million times over that I had previously tried the finger food shtick, however, it was like something suddenly clicked. You had never, ever seen such a delighted baby picking up handfuls of squishy peas, or wiping his face with (quartered) ravioli innards. He was enjoying himself so much, picking through this unstrained, yet mushy food, smearing it on his tray and dropping it on the floor. It was as if he was saying to me, "Mom, you understand me!"

At this same mealtime, yet another unbelievable thing. While Isaac can drink very well from a normal cup when assisted, he never really got the whole sippy-cup deal. The sippy is for teething, right? All his sippy-lids have deep gouges on the undersides from him trying to whittle down Monolith and Monolith Jr. (he sprouted tooth #2, by the way, on Jan. 2). So here he is, eating his ravioli, and here I am, a very thirsty lady. I drank some water from his sippy cup. He saw me doing this, stopped what he was doing, and reached out both hands for it. I hand it to him, he grabs a handle in each hand, and starts chugging, I mean ACTUALLY DRINKING, from the sippy cup. I just erupted into an enormous giggle-fit. I suppose he will, after all, do things at a time when he is good an ready.

Now we eat all but one item per meal as 100% finger foods that Isaac can pick up and eat at will. He adores cheese cubes, ravioli (of course), quesadillas, and bagels. He has yet to figure out about fruit cocktail and eggs, but we will keep trying those again. Anyway, if one can live with the mess and be a little patient, one would definitely prefer this method to the labor-intensive baby-feeding we did prior to this. We can actually eat together if we wanted to. How messed up is that?

Isaac's Target pix

A quick blog, then back to my TiVo-ed "Blind Date" episodes before Isaac wakes up:

1) Dad arrived safely in Delaware after a long, and delayed cross-country flight. Don't feel sorry for him, however, as he flew first class. He says he's leaving me and Isaac and the cat so he can fly without checking any luggage anymore. He had dinner tonight with two professors at the U Del Geography department, and he was really stoked about it, said they hit it off quite well. He just has to figure out how to put himself to sleep tonight so he can give a quality talk tomorrrow...

2) Remember I blogged about Isaac getting his first professional pictures at Target? Now all my internet homies can see them, and, as I understand it, even order prints for themselves online. How, you ask? Go to Target's portrait studio website.

Guest Name (I hope she doesn't mind): Jane Ross
Access Code:LTT86401087011TAR

And there you can see Isaac's session start off with a bang, and quickly end with a whimper. His whimper, that is.

Flying home

Busy boys in Indy International, waiting for the first plane home

Let's just say we weren't quite ready to go back to Seattle. Now, we were plenty tired of our folks, don't get us wrong. Kidding! (or am I?) It's just that Dad and I had anticipated our two weeks home as being a kind of respite for us weary parental-types, with so many potential babysitters. It just didn't turn out that way for many reasons, a major one being Isaac's newly sprouted and insane separation anxiety. ("Mom's leaving the room! Oh, I will surely die!"). And the fact that he was still recovering from his cold, such that sleep was never a given. Sigh. No rest for the wicked. And after one peaceful plane ride from Indy to Chicago, and one hellacious, Isaac-scream-filled plane ride allllllllll the way from Chicago to Seattle, we are back, and now we have made peace with that.

You may have guessed the truth: that we have, in fact, been back for two weeks now and someone has been majorly slacking on her blogging duties. Please let me describe to you, in short, what has happened in the meantime.

1st) Hit land. Isaac's circadian rhythms are totally messed up from the three-hour time diff, and he doesn't go to sleep until 11. Dad and I wake up the next morning and go to work. At work, I discover that I am slated to deliver a presentation on my thesis research on Monday. This is Wednesday. These presentations used to take me 50+ hours to create, when I was working full-time. Take large sigh, have a few cries, ask Dad to do much baby-looking-after while I freak out. Isaac? He's fine. Boring, almost. Nothing new.

2nd) Deliver presentation on Monday (that's this past Monday, the 10th). Receive major accolades from boss, other profs, coworkers, etc. Run around the lab for about an hour floating on a large cloud with "I Rock" painted on the side. Then, surprisingly, run into Dad trying to enter my lab. This rarely happens, because if my boss catches him trying to "steal our secrets", I will be skinned alive. Dad asks me to coffee, and on the way there, informs me that he just got off the phone with the University of Delaware's Geography Department, who wants to fly him in to interview for a professorship position the next week. We are very excited, but we realize this means we switch sides now; he works his butt off for a week while I take over the bulk of the baby-looking-after. Now dear readers, at this point, I probably could have re-engaged my blogging efforts, but I chose instead to mutate into Betty Crocker, cooking home-made dinners for my family every night last week except for Friday, when Dad bolted at my Tuna Noodle Casserole idea and insisted on frozen pizza. I also cooked two desserts in that same time span. I greatly enjoyed my dabbling in housewifery, and feel my body may be the better of it for the lack of MSG.

3rd) Friday I took Isaac to Dr. Kira for his 9-month check-up. He weighs 21 lbs 4 oz and stretches to 29", lining right up with the 75th percentile lines. Curiously, through all his sickly-baby visits to the doc right before Christmas, his weight line dipped a bit, showing that he lost some weight with his cold(s), but now he is right back on track. No shots this time, but Dr. Kira did give Isaac something else quite unwanted -- some more amoxicillin for ANOTHER ear infection. This time in both ears. I probably should have guessed he was up to something when he spiked a 100-degree fever last Wednesday night, but at the time I was quite tired of hearing how there's nothing that anyone can do for him regarding such things, and I thought no more of it when it went away the following morning. Unfortunately, he is still tugging ferociously away at his ears, meaning we need to return to the doc tomorrow to obtain some more effective antibiotics. In the meantime, to keep pace with my boy, I have contracted ANOTHER cold, and now must be a single mommy for two whole days as my darling husband tries to go and find himself a job.

Welp, I think that's about it -- that and Isaac cut another tooth on Jan 2, a matching bottom incisor to go with the first one. I will leave you with some other photos I took over our final days in Indy:

Grandpa Larry assists Isaac in a frolic near the koi pond at Mark Pi's -- cousin Sarah and friend Bailey meditate nearby

Grandma Jane and I aren't happy without our gratuitous naked baby pictures -- here he admires the critters [read: birds + squirrels + chipmunks] outside

Grandma Jane reads I am a Bunny

My attempt at a three-generations picture. Dern O'Neal boys, just stand still long enough next time!

Grandma Jane in Sleeping Baby Heaven