Puddle Jumping in DC

The origins of a princess

A couple of weeks ago Maya began announcing "I'm a princess!" and spinning in a circle.  For the life of me, I couldn't figure out where she was getting the princess influence.

None of our toys or books involve princesses. None of the videos we were aware she'd been watching had princesses.

Maya's princesses had a very specific association: twirling.

This morning, Maya requested the "elephant and Elmo" Youtube for the first time in several weeks (after watching it some 14 times in 24 hours when we first found it).

And suddenly, it all made sense. Forsooth.

(There has been an exponential increase in princesses exposure since the princess announcements began thanks library books and rented videos. We expect much more.)

On small children and very small parrots

Bug loves, loves, loves peanuts.  The sound of the jar being opened elicits excited chirps and happy dances followed by frantic chirps and pacing if a peanut does not materialize quickly enough.  If Bug is out of her cage, do not expect to open a peanut jar in peace.

This is something she and Maya have in common.  Mac never read the increasingly common advice not to give children peanuts until they are three.  And since Daddy likes to snack on peanuts, Maya has been eating them since early in her 2nd year.

Consequently, both toddler and parrotlet answer the call of the peanut jar:

"chirp, chirp"

"Want some."

 
Maya solicits a cookie from Amanda during our trip to London. 

Is your mama a llama?

After the second or third rendition of the evening of Is Your Mama a Llama? the other night, I suggested: "You read it.  You read it yourself. Mommy's going to . . ." whatever I said I was going to do.  And she did.

It it was the funniest thing I've heard in a while.  Maya's version went kind of like this:

"My yama. Ma yama. Fred?  No. She isn't She isn't.

Ma yama, my yama. No. No. She isn't. She isn't. (hint of desperation)

Yama!

All done."

Greeting the llama image by flickr user altamar / CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Halloween 2009

Lion on parade
Originally uploaded by Studiojmm.
More from the parade.

Luckily, I captured a couple of photos of Maya in her lion suit during the G Street Co-op Halloween parade, because by 6pm it was so warm out that Maya refused the lion's mane and trick-or-treated without it.

Capitol Hill goes all out for Halloween. Houses are decorated with cobwebs and giant spiders. Many, many front yards sport tombstones (some with a political edge), monsters, ghosts, and more. There are dozens of Halloween events to choose from in addition to trick-or-treating. Even with the intermittent showers last night, folks were out on their stoops handing out candy to mobs of children.

We were giving out mini-tootsie-pops at home and Maya desperately wanted one before we left. Neighbor after neighbor handed her Snickers, mini-Hershey's, and other chocolaty treats for a block and a half. But finally, a lady on D Street handed her the desired object (full-size too) and that was pretty much it for trick-or-treating. Maya sucked happily, getting stickier and stickier, and regularly pointed out her "whawie-bop" on the return trip. (Of course, she still wanted to go get candy at half-a-dozen or so very decked out houses as we passed them – and even took her lolly pop out of her mouth to say thank you.)

Passing on a love of wild weather

Just a couple of photos from a Sunday morning walk in the rain.

Muddy puddle. Muddy bottom. More by Flickr user Studiojmm.

Seems sitting is required to examine the mud between one's toes.

Then, Later, and Now

We've lent Maya's Amby Baby swing to another baby (e.t.a. mid-Oct '09).

Of course, you can't, in good conscience, give an expectant couple a contraption like this with no instructions, so we set it up for them. Naturally, Maya wanted in.  She was clearly tickled to be bounced in her swing again. So young, so much nostalgia.

So I put together a little photo retrospective:

And at 21 Months
More Maya on Flickr.

Approx 4 Months Old

Maya Rose on Day 8

Still in love with this kid.

There's nothing like toddler joy., originally uploaded by Studiojmm.

Hope your Memorial Day weekend was at least this fun.

Maya - 18 Months

almost a smile, originally uploaded by Studiojmm.

From the day we told people we were expecting, one of the most frequent pieces of advice was "write it all down; you'll forget."  And, we meant to, really.

Over the last few weeks though, more and more I've wanted to hold moments with you to never forget, so I guess I better write it all down.  Every day you amaze us, with your spirit, your enthusiasm, and how fast you are learning and changing.  Nearly every day you try out a new skill or new word.

You talk constantly and in full sentences, just not all of it English (and so far none of it Spanish, despite Daddy's best efforts). You will incorporate nodding and gestures to make your point. You prefer a two way conversation and always give the other person a chance to respond, even if they can't possibly understand what you just babbled at them.

So far you say: baby (your first word at 11 months), mama, dada, Paul (Paou), Alex (Aeyce), hi, bye bye, dog (gaag), cat (gat), bird (birr), fish, duck, bear, ball, car, up, down, more, water (wawa or agua, we're not sure), go, yes, no, uh oh, down-dog, and please.  In the last few days, you've taken to answering most questions "no," even when nodding vigorously.  You will also say help, please (hep peez), but only after someone asks if you need help because you've been whining "aah, aah, aah" at something in frustration.

You sign milk, all done, more, and sleepy.

You can find your head, ears, nose, mouth, teeth, heart/chest, tummy, bellly button, and toes/feet. The head-shoulders-knees-and-toes song never fails to yield a smile.

You love peek-a-boo and hiding games.  You've been clapping when prompted for months and clap anytime anyone cheers.

And  you have some sort of answer for "What does the ____ say" for dog, cat, fish, duck, rabbit, sheep, bear, lion, gorilla, and cow, and for many you will use the sound interchangeably with the name of the animal, woof woof and ba ba ba particularly.

You are fascinated by animals, but would prefer that they stay a safe several feet away at all times.  We recently babysat at a house with a cat.  You were very excited and a bit scared when the cat got too friendly.  Then, throughout the evening, you would suddenly remember that there was a cat and be underfoot holding onto my knees asking where's the "gat, gat, gat?"  You point out the "birrr" in the house several times a day.

You love being sung to and, lately, whenever you hear music, you have to dance.  A car will go by with the radio blaring and there you will be on the sidewalk dancing back and forth.

You are physically adventurous (hence the forehead bruise in the above picture).  You've been walking since just before your first birthday and, with six months of practice, man are you fast.  And you do not want to hold hands. Unfortunately, as a city baby, holding hands or being carried is often a non-negotiable safety requirement. But safety is not one of your concerns.  Just tonight, we had to move a chair out of the dining room because you just had to use it to climb up on the fish tank to reach the light switch.

You're latest obsession is "baybeesz."  Anytime you catch me looking at the computer, you want to see "baybeesz", which means pictures of you or any other kids.  Pictures of your parents, grandparents or animals might also be ok.

Your obsession with babies carries over to live babies too. When we are out, you will go up to any stroller you can find, looking for the baby.

You are not shy.  You go to Towson University twice a week with Daddy and wander from office to office telling anyone who will listen (and that's most of the Dance department) whatever is on your mind.

You love your baby yoga.  We have this plastic doll that I picked up for teaching Itsy Bitsy Yoga.  Recently, you bring her to me so I can make her do half moon, toes-to-nose, and other poses.

You constantly amaze us with what you understand.  Yesterday, your dad absently sang a lyric from your toy drum's song and off you went to fetch it.  Tonight, I asked you if you wanted water and you disappeared.  I found you standing in front of the sink holding your cup.

You hate having your diaper changed and do not want us to brush your teeth. Also, you do not want to wear a coat, ever.  Shoes and socks, though, those are cool and good for putting on and taking off repeatedly (you still need help with putting on).

You love books and recognize the innate duty of all adults to read to you as soon as they come in the house.  You have quite a library, thanks to your Dad, and have made more than one babysitter read the majority of it in a single sitting.

Every few months, we take you to the pediatrician so she can tell us how great you are doing, but we don't really need her to tell us that. You've come so far from the 5 lb peanut of a baby you were in October 2007.

It was a very good egg

On the Friday before Easter, two tickets for the White House Easter Egg roll fell in our laps.

Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR,
View full set on Flickr here.

We got up early (as to nap before our appointed 10:30 a.m. entrance) and lined up in what a Facebook friend and colleague referred to as the kiddie purple tunnel of doom with the other 6000 or so people in our wave (30000+ expected in total). 

In case you are wondering, Maya has no respect for little yellow ropes or lines (What's a line?).

In spite of minimal smiling for the camera, I think she had a good time. Her favorite parts were: the kids playing tag waiting to get in, the yoga class, and her dyed egg (oh, it was such a good egg).

She thought the kids playing tag while waiting to get past the post security, pre-south lawn gate was the coolest thing ever . . . until her egg.  Since she was too little to really egg roll and there was a big line for egg hunts (we'd done lines, thanks) we opted for egg painting. She was very enamored of her egg.  And, it's a good thing I took photos (look closely for Maya written in white crayon) because the egg didn't last very long.

Maya was tired before we even got let onto the south lawn and completely passed out while we were waiting in line to exit (yep) and receive our commemorative egg.  The green wooden egg is also awesome, by the way, and not to be relinquished for anything as mundane as dinner.

Maya Fighting in the Jardin des Tuileries

Maya Fighting in the Jardin des Tuileries, originally uploaded by Studiojmm.

Apparently, unlike the Spanish bull, Mayas cannot resist the lure of the colorful scarf. They must charge.

the age of vacuuming begins

It was either get rid of the kid or get a rug.

We finally conceded that Maya running about and dropping toys is really too loud for downstairs tenants.  Much craigslist surfing and carpet cleaning later, the living room has a new look.

Maya seems ok with it.

I'm still getting used to all the visual stimulation.

The camp chair is normally folded up in a corner but it was supporting another area rug (not pictured) as it dried.

As soon as the chair was uncovered, Maya had to sit in it and read a book.

More recent photos on flickr.

In 2009

I will cut myself some slack.

obligatory cute kid shot
Originally uploaded by Studiojmm.

I'm not meeting my own expectations and I suspect that it's the expectations that are the problem.

At home, I expect myself to be as organized and crafty as the most productive of stay-at-home parents.

At work, I expect myself to be as effective as the most dedicated (frequently but not always childless) public interest advocate.

At yoga class, I wonder how I don't manage a daily asana and mediation practice.

When I read the blogs of my favorite (and often professional) writers, I lament the sorry state of this one.

Maybe I should give up sleep . . . Oh right, I already have.  So far, Maya has been sleeping less well in her second year than she did in her first.  I've been told that learning to walk can disrupt a child's sleep (it's a neurological development thing) and so can teething, colds, travel, the stomach flu, more teething, more travel, more colds, more travel . . . It's been a fall of unpredictable nap patterns and night waking.

That is nearly as tough on Mac as me (he, at least, is the less favorite parent at 3 am) because it's during nap times that this mostly-a-stay-at-home-Dad becomes an adjunct dance professor with papers to grade and lessons to plan, a dance company director with performances to arrange, and a choreographer with art to make.  Mac has managed to stop expecting the floors to be quite so regularly cleaned (He still manages all of the laundry, most of the grocery shopping, and a lot of the cooking.)

2nd cute kid shot
Originally uploaded by Studiojmm.

So, in 2009, I will:

1. cut myself some slack;
2. really get to the gym during lunch rather than simply cart my gym clothes too and from the office (requires cutting self slack at work) - say twice a week;
3. really get up and practice yoga in the morning before work - twice a week would be an excellent start;
4. take my vitamins (to offset effects of the sleep thing);
5. drink more water (One of the perks of the old job was the reverse-osmosis water filter sitting right near my office door.  At the new job, my hydration level isn't nearly as good);
6. blog more because I simply miss the outlet (and you miss things like the new job) - maybe once a week;
7. and, if I do all that, I actually think it will help me stress less (provided I actually do #1).

Lame blogger announces cool photos

www.flickr.com Studiojmm's Fall 2008 photoset

Size Matters

We've been having increased throwing of food lately - by the Mayabird (Bug, Mac, and I all throw food about as much as we always did).  An inordinate amount of tasty food has been getting bitten (or even just licked) once and unceremoniously dropped off the side of the highchair.  Sweet potato, broccoli, ravioli, cantaloupe (really good cantaloupe!) have all been getting dropped.

We've been mostly not acknowledging the behavior but ending the meal once a few things get dropped. But it had been getting bad the last few days.  It was Paul who figured out that size matters. And, voila! food is eaten.

Apparently: (her-)fist-sized hunks** = poison; tiny bits = tasty

**The same size fist-sized hunks the babe had eaten enthusiastically for months, but no matter.

Winter Baby: Meet Summer

We're pretty delinquent in the baby blogging department around here. Luckily, we aren't quite so delinquent in the baby photographing department.

Here are a few from an excursion onto the porch last weekend:

Yes, those eyes are still blue. And, yes, all those rolls are really her. (Tom is threatening to call her the Michelin baby).  The kid knows how to eat.

True to her lineage, Maya is not fond of the heat. She gets sweaty and overheated quickly and can't sleep when she's hot.  So, it's mid-April and we already had to buy a new air conditioner for her room (We had an ancient one that was terribly noisy, now we have a quiet energy-star unit).  But it's worth it if she naps.

"Looky, looky. Over I go."

Been There, Done That

There was a glorious month there where the fish were fascinating.

Dad (or mom, but mostly Dad) could prop baby up on the couch and let her watch the fish while he read. Even cranky baby could be distracted by fish. ("Look fish. You like fish.")

But alas, fish have lost there appeal.  They can not be grabbed and tasted (well, we're not going there anyway) so they can't hold a candle to toys.

The poor fish, they got fed a lot during the month they were so cool.

Oh Nevermind.

Instead of going me part time, we're expanding my team.

Hemp Milk and Quinoa Flakes?

It's not just the influence of the dairy and corn lobby that has prevented this stuff from taking off.

Lil' Shute has me eating funny lately.  I've been doing something my sister's kid's gastroenterologist calls the five point diet: no dairy, no eggs, no soy*, no fish/seafood, no nuts/peanuts for 2-3 weeks before reintroducing proteins that may be irritating baby one at a time to monitor any change. 

Why would I do such a thing (remember, already a vegetarian)?  Because Lil' Maya seems to have pediatric gastroesophageal reflux problems - basically baby heartburn.  I say seems to have because the tests for diagnosing GERD (add disease to gastroesophageal reflux) are more traumatic than we'd probably do for what seems to be a mild-ish case of something she will outgrow anyway.

Instead, we're diagnosing through treatment.  The treatment's pretty harmless if it doesn't work and fabulous if it does.

So far,diet has improved the excessive spitting up but didn't stop the hysterical screaming at night.  We added meds yesterday and she nursed to sleep quietly (mostly) last night for the first time in weeks. We're really hoping it's not a fluke.

* I actually just reintroduced soy.  I was working way too hard to get adequate protein. It was that or turkey. I haven't seen a significant change, but monitoring anything was complicated by her getting vaccinations on Monday and being little miss cranky pants for 24 hours - poor thing.

Drunk on Breastmilk

Things happen in my life now that I thought only happened on TV . . .

. . . like the day I was getting ready to take Maya to meet Mac near Baltimore and visit my grandmother. We were already late but we got two phone calls simultaneously and the baby melted down and one of the calls was from the audiologist* we'd been trying to get an appointment with for two weeks so I had to talk to her (while the baby screamed) and that made us later and when we got to the train station the ticket machine broke as I put in my card and we barely made the train.  Whew.

Or today, when I wasn't sure we were going to baby massage class but then decided at the "last minute" that we were definitely going.  I diapered and dressed the kid, flung stuff in her bag, grabbed purse, coat, gloves, hat, scarf, and sling (and kid) and headed out.  On the metro escalator, I realized that we weren't 10 minutes late leaving, we were 50 minutes early.

Then there are the things that distinctly do not happen in the movies.  No one ever breastfeeds their baby in the subway in the movies.  But if Maya wants to eat, she wants to eat. Faced with either the near certainty of a crying baby or the slight possibility that I may flash someone in the metro, I'm going to play the odds.  (Actually, can you think of any instance of a woman breastfeeding in the movies at all?  Harried moms on TV are always warming bottles.)

I have a friend who says "My baby's drunk on breast milk" to describe the happy, sleepy, post-feeding baby. But the hormones involved make mom relaxed and sleepy, too.  Maya and I dozed off on the couch after a feeding yesterday even though the contractors next door were actively cutting a hole in the brick wall.

*Final birth related appointment.  Unlike a hospital, my house doesn't come standard with a newborn hearing screen machine. Maya passed on all the tones they tested.  If she hadn't, we would have been encouraged to do early language therapy.

Holiday Photo Shoot

The author of one of my favorite blogs shares the outtakes from her annual holiday photos shoot.  Since we just did a first holiday photo shoot with Maya, I thought I'd share ours.

"Are we still doing this?"

The final holiday photos are on Flickr. 

www.flickr.com Studiojmm's Holiday Photos photoset

Happy Holidays!

Up 7 oz

We returned the tub to our birth assistant yesterday, which provided an opportunity to do a weigh-in.

Maya's doing great.  On Friday, we were tickled that she'd lost only 4 oz in her first couple of days.  Since Friday, she's packed on 7 oz - slightly more than one ounce per day. 

Sleepless

First week of parenthood went by as a blur.  Maya has actually been incredibly easy going.   But we hardly ever put her down and I've been feeding her every two hours around the clock - so what's to fuss about? Last week, we were trying to keep her from loosing too much weight.  This week, we work on getting bigger. Most babies (unless they are formula fed?) loose 5-7% of their body weight on the colostrum-only feedings in the first few days before their mother's milk comes in (10% is considered safe) and then they start gaining back. They are born with extra stores to get them through that so a 7 pound baby can safely loose 6-12 oz. But we figured Maya didn't have much to spare (10 percent of Maya's birth weight is only 7.6 oz.) so we made an extra effort to get lots of colostrum into her (which also ensures prompt arrival of the full milk supply). First mommy triumph was Maya weighing in at the pediatrician's on Friday only 4 oz (5%) lighter then when she came into the world.  Go kid!  More Maya pictures in the Flickr album previewed to the right.

www.flickr.com Studiojmm's Baby Maya photoset

Meet Maya Rose

More Maya Rose, originally uploaded by Studiojmm.

Maya Rose Shute was born at home at 3:28 pm on Monday October 29, 2007.
That makes her just shy of three weeks early. She's tiny but healthy.
We're all doing fine. The whole household is mostly working on eating, sleeping, and going to the bathroom.

No More Indian Food for Jen

Sadness.

Twice now, after eating lovely, lovely Indian food, I've gotten heartburn so bad that it's gotten me up several times at night to eat Tums and drink water and add pillows to the pile so I can sleep propped up on an angle.  The angle thing does work (Tums and water are just for something to do) but it's not my favorite sleeping position.

Sadness. 

Since it's probably temporary, I think I can hold out.

Side Shot & The Stuff Quest Continues

It's a big day in baby stuff exchange.  This morning, I had a woman drop by to sell me a stack of her used cloth diapers (the previously mentioned Kissaluvs for the under 15 pounder (size 0) and some diaper covers). Lil' Shute's behind should be pretty well covered from birth to 3 months now.

Just a note on the used cloth diaper market: Now, cloth diapers, while supposedly cheaper in the long run, are an upfront investment.  Still, it's a bit wacky but folks seem to think they can get 80% retail for used cloth diapers.  Maybe they can but not from me. Inevitably, these folks are also located in the far DC suburbs and are selling 6 or 7 diapers (usually the all in one kind, not the classic fabric ones which cost practically nothing without the cover).  Maybe I value my time very highly but it's not worth it to get in touch with them, arrange schedules, figure out when I can use a car, and drive out to who knows where through northern Virginia traffic (ick), to save $2 a diaper for a brand/style that may not have been my first choice if I bought retail √¢¬Ä¬ì√¢¬Ä¬ì repeatedly since, unless you want to do laundry 3x a day, you need more than 6 diapers.  And yet, so many ads say: "I paid $15/12/10 a piece and will sell for $12/10/8."  Mind boggling.

Later, two women will be dropping by to pick up stuff I've been given but won't use.  I've got a spare infant bathtub and a bassinet to give away.

I've also lined up receipt of a used diaper pail and a borrowed bouncy chair.  Yay for neighborhood news groups!

And the promised side shot - 33 weeks.

Now Pamela objected to the straight down baby shot from a couple weeks ago.  But, really, that's how I experience this pregnancy. 

The occasional full body mirror glimpse always surprises me -- "Good grief, how big is this kid?  How much bigger could she/he get? Where will I put her?" I can't really get side photos unless I request help.

I'll have to try to document a little better. I may have 7 to 9 weeks of baby growth to accommodate yet - oh my.  It's impossible to predict.  Both my sister's kids made their debut around the 37-38 week mark.  My mother's three (including me) were late with my brother not turning up until almost week 42.  Only Lil' Shute knows.

Now the diatribe: That whole 40 weeks thing is just an average and it's based on an assumption that every woman has a 28 day menstrual cycle and ovulates on day 14.  Since a "normal" cycle is between 21 and 35 days with ovulation commonly happening two weeks from the end (not the beginning) of it, all the math seems pretty questionable. Which is why it's disturbing that the trend in obstetrics (probably driven by insurance) is to arbitrarily insist that women be artificially induced at 41 weeks or even earlier regardless of the condition of the baby or mother.  Such inductions increase the chance or further medical interventions dramatically and completely disregard the natural variations in women and in fetal development.  Many more links here.

Stuff

Figuring out what stuff to get for this kid is turning out to be incredibly complicated and time consuming, more so because we are trying to acquire most stuff pre-used.

The good news is that folks have been so generous that we've been given a crazy amount of stuff.  This kid can go through 3 to 4 sleepers a day and we still wouldn't have to do laundry more than once a week.  We're covered in onsies, sleepers, and other baby garments for at least 6 months.
This morning, I picked up one of these   from a woman in the neighborhood.

Tomorrow night, we are driving to Laurel to fetch a used one of these:

I just ordered a bunch of these: and these: .  And those were, by far, the most complicated.  How many? What style? What sizes?

We probably wouldn't get much use out of anything designed for 6-10 pound babies but what do we do with a 7 pound newborn until he/she fits into a 8-25 pound diaper?  I actually found a bunch of these: in newborn and small at a second hand store for $1.50 each - bought every one. In addition, the simple cloth diapers should work for newborns and I ordered a couple of newborn size covers. We''ll fill in the early gaps and overnight needs with disposables until the kid hits 8 pounds (Given that Mac was 10 pounds at birth, that could be quick.  Of course, I was only 6 pounds so I might find myself ordering a couple of newborn sizes of these: in that first week).

So, if you are still planning to buy something for the baby, what do we need?

You can't go wrong by buying us something that you really like, so if something strikes you . . .

Otherwise, we could definitely use these: or these:
(size 1) with these: or these: in small or medium (1 wrap for every 6 diapers) -- all for the 3 month to nearly 1 year old baby diapering needs.

We're also looking for one of these with a carseat adapter, but we're watching craigslist for it.

I missed feet week

You probably did too.  It's not a national holiday or even one of those official-sounding observance months that I wonder who decides about.  One of the bloggers that I read alerted me to feet week. "Cool," I thought. I've been know to take photos of feet.

But at the moment, that poses a special challenge.

Feet?, originally uploaded by Studiojmm.

It wouldn't really be accurate to say that I don't see a lot of my feet these days. 

Yoga keeps you in touch with your feet . . . even if you have to spread your legs pretty wide to reach down there. But, I do have to lean forward a bit to photograph them. 

Feet, originally uploaded by Studiojmm.

Hi, baby.  Where did you hide my feet?

P.S. Welcome to 3rd trimester insomnia.  I've got apple cranberry bread in the oven (Sorry about the smoke detector guys. I really can't figure out why it's going off since there's nothing burning that I can find.) and am writing a blog entry when I should be sleeping.

It's just a huge confidence boost

to be able to do ardha chandrasana at 7 + months pregnant.

Just so ya know.

Still Kicking

. . . and kicking, and kicking.

Working too much.
Doing too much.
Bug is not pleased.
Looking forward to a week in Mexico City.
Bug will be even less pleased.

Did you miss Mac's profile in the Washington Post?

Does This Mean We Start Shopping for Pink Stuff?

So it seems that when you are knocked off your bike by a guy opening a car door and you are four months pregnant, the ER considers an ultrasound appropriate. 

In between checking that the placenta looked good (it did) and that there was no sign of fetal distress (there wasn't), the physician did a quick gender check. She stressed that she's a physician, not an ultrasound technician, but she seemed pretty sure she had a clear shot and was looking at a girl.

The womb is a pretty darn protective place to hang out if you are a fetus and the kid's obviously happy in there. The biggest obstacle to determining gender was that she kept moving around, something she's been noticeably doing for more than a week now.

We're going to do a follow up ultrasound in a couple of weeks but we don't expect any lasting effects of yesterday's little incident. I've got some scrapes and a doozy of a bruise on my arm where the car door hit me.  And, we've got a bunch of new paperwork to fill out. While the handle bar lost some paint, even the bike seems fine. 

Mac's most pressing question: Do we have to do the pink thing?

Getting Ready for Baby: The First Floor Disaster Edition

Mac and I aren't the type to spend a lot of time decorating a nursery.  I don't anticipate developing a decor theme and matching all the bedding to it or stenciling bunnies or alphabet letters on the walls - good or bad, it's just not us. We painted the kid's room green back before we got pregnant and that's just the color it will be until he* is old enough to have an opinion on the subject.

What we are working on is the first floor.  The floor boards have been needing refinishing for a while.  Finally, realizing we may be facing a child who never learns to crawl (let alone walk) because of the splinters in her knees, we decided that now is the time. 

While we we're at it, wouldn't this be a good time to remove the radiator and tackle the holes that must be back there since that's where the mice always seem to come from?  And . . .  since we were going to have to move all the furniture out of the rooms to do the floors . . . we may as well do the patch job to the old plaster that we didn't have time (or skills) for when we first moved in, right?  (I've commented before about how these projects escalate.)

Consequently, Mac spent the last week pulling up the floor under the radiator and patching gaps in the brickwork between ours and the neighbor's house.  Then we spent the weekend alternating between me working on the walls and him working on the floor (right - all with very low to zero VOC paints and finishes).  By the end of the week, we may get to move furniture back in here and it will look almost exactly like it did before only smoother and shinier (ah, homeownership).

As for the rest of the baby update: everything appears to be as it should be. I probably won't get around to posting the second sonogram image taken at 11 weeks.  Not much more is revealed to anyone who is not a sonogram technician but it did confirm that the kid was the proper size for his age (5.3 cm), had the right number of limbs, and generally looked fine. Of course, by now (16 weeks), the kid is more than twice that size.

*We don't actually know the gender and may not before the birth so disregard any pronouns unless additional news is posted.