How I Met Your Father

Dear Ava,

Today is your father's and my third wedding anniversary. I thought I'd tell you how we got started.

In 2003, I was working at UNLV at the front counter of admissions. It was my first job at the university, and I was glad to have it even though it sucked my soul every single day. The lady who sat next to me became a good friend, and I got to know her husband over time as well. They seemed nice (more on that later...).

One day, the lady said "My husband's company has a softball team, and they play every Friday night at the fields at the corner of Warm Springs & Eastern in Henderson. There's a guy he works with who seems really nice and I think you'd like him." This was in March. I remember this, because I couldn't go that week because I had concert tickets--Beastie Boys at House of Blues. I went with Jay&Tina, back when they were just Jay and Tina. I couldn't go the next week because it was your Aunt Katie's 30th birthday and a group of us went to a spa in Scottsdale for the weekend to celebrate.

So I had two very important reasons for not meeting your father until April 18.

But when I did go, I saw him. I remember it--he had nice legs. Still does. After the game, everybody went to a bar down the way for beers and wings. He sat on the end, and I was on his left. We talked a little. I don't think he knew it was a set-up necessarily. You know, just in case. When a girl introduces a girlfriend to a potential boyfriend, it's a good idea not to let him know that he's on the spot. We'll talk about this more when you're older.



Anyway, he left before I did. I gave one of his co-workers my number. That was Friday. He called within a couple of days. Our first date was to the Chicago Brewing Company on Fort Apache, and then we came back to my place and watched National Lampoon's Vacation. Seriously. That's what we did. That's how it all started.

Love,
Mama

Four Months Old

This was Ava's first picture, taken just over a year ago. My, how she's grown.

In spite of some really really long days and nights, we're always surprised to look at the calendar and realize that Ava's been with us for such a short time. Some quick stats, as of last week's well-check and vaccination extravaganza:

• 23 inches long, from a debut size of 19-1/2 inches
• 14 pounds 13 ounces, up from 7 pounds 8 ounces
• Important milestones include sitting up with minimal assistance, smiling, reaching for stuff and then holding on to it, almost rolling over, the discovery of her feet and the subsequent kicking of everything within a surprisingly large radius
• Establishment and implementation of a regular eating/sleeping schedule, which includes sleeping most nights from, get this, 10:30 or 11:00 PM until AFTER SIX AM. I'll say that again: Ava sleeps nearly eight hours at a time, and she does it at night, almost every night.

We take absolutely no credit for that last one. In talking to our Friends Who Have Kids, we've learned that this is quite unusual and we should expect some sort of retribution later on, perhaps when she learns to drive or becomes a Raiders fan (RAIDERS SUCK!). Right now? Yeah, she's asleep in her bouncy chair. Most nights, we wake her up for her last bottle between 9 and 11 and then she goes back to sleep, either in somebody's lap in the rocking chair, or on her own in her crib. We hit Baby Lotto with this kid, and we know it.

There's not a lot else going on. We're planning a trip to San Diego next month, and that will be our first family road trip. I'm estimating what four days worth of infant gear will look like, and what will be a good idea to pack (like the bouncy chair--yea or nay?) or overkill (play mat? boppy pillow?). I generally overpack as it is (for example, last year I went to NYC and Washington DC for just over a week for a conference and had an entire suitcase of just shoes...) so the car is likely to be loaded down pretty significantly. But we're looking forward to getting out of town--the last time I was away for more than an afternoon was Labor Day weekend. I'm needing a change of scenery, for sure.

This week is our anniversary. Three years, on Wednesday. We'll go out to dinner, and we'll have Ava with us. We generally keep it pretty low-key; usually just lunch at the golf course where we got married. We'll probably get up there in the next week or so. Last year on May 20, we had known I was pregnant for about 2 weeks, and I don't think we had told anybody yet (I may be wrong--it's kind of a blur). There was this undercurrent of excitement about the coming months. But really, we had no idea what we were in for. It's been amazing. And the next few months are going to fly by even more quickly than the last four have. We'll take as many pictures and videos as we can, because there is already stuff that she no longer does that I'm so glad we have a record of (like the nightly kicking before sleep no longer happens). It really does go so fast. We make a point of stopping and looking around because we don't want to miss it.

And now a word from our sponsors...

OK right over there ---> is a button that is my entry to win a super cute quilt, and if anyone clicks on it they can enter as well.

Seriously, how marvelous is that quilt!? Love it!

It's a day just for mothers. And that means me.

It's been a wonderful day. I'm blessed, and that's really all there is to it.

Ava's big gift to me was lots of sleep this weekend. Between her reasonable midnight-to-five sleep schedule, and Rob's willingness to take care of that first early bottle, I slept until almost 9 both days. Booyah.

And then this morning, I got up to open cards from one supercute daughter and one awesome husband. Evidently Ava also snuck out and procured a gorgeous azalea plant and a gift card to Dead Poet Books, a fantastic used/vintage bookstore that I drool over every time I drive past.

Here is evidence of her early morning subterfuge:




I'll teach her later about destroying all photographic evidence.

We went to breakfast at our neighborhood Jewish deli and it was really nice. I really like this place. As an added bonus in honor of the day, mothers received a free piece of breakfast cake. NOM NOM NOM DELICIOUS CAKE. That's one of the percs of being a grown-up: I can have cake for breakfast and ain't nobody gonna stop me.

I've decided that becoming a mom has been like joining a cult. In a good way, of course. But all of a sudden, the other cult members start conversations with me about Ava (how old is she, does she sleep, etc), about our family (is she our first, our last, our everything?), about my pregnancy (a week overdue? Goodness! I'm a trooper!) and stuff like that. I first noticed it at the pediatrician's office, when we were all sitting there with our infants discussing poop and breastmilk. It happens a lot. Today's cult meeting took place at breakfast, when the mom at the table next to us struck up a conversation involving her daughter (probably 2-1/2?) and how neat it is to have a first Mother's Day. And then our daughters met (well, hers met ours while ours slept peacefully...) and for just a few minutes, we were all part of the great Circle of Life.

After breakfast we visited Dad & Florence and had a lovely visit, dominated of course by Ava's babbly charm. Seriously, the kid chatters like a parrot and it's the sweetest sound I know. We've been getting the occasional giggle out of her as well, usually by taking advantage of her tickly belly. She freezes up when we turn on the video camera, but I'll get a shot of it eventually.

I'm so glad to be rediscovering holidays (even unofficial ones like Mother's Day, which, let's face it, was created and is promoted in order to sell greeting cards) that I've ignored for years. Rob and I have embarked upon this parenting thing with a clean slate--we're not going to carry over family drama and let any of it cast a shadow over Ava's future memories. As far as we're concerned, we're batting a thousand for joyous holidays.

We have a new feature over to the right --->. It's Ava's Playlist, which is going to be how I keep track of what we sing to her before she goes to sleep at night. Rob and I both know about a bajillion songs between the two of us, but we don't always remember the words at crunch time. So far, these are the ones that we knew off the top of our heads. We'll add more as time goes by.

Happy Mother's Day to my fellow cult-members, past, present and future.

Blah Blah Blah Pictures

Enough about me. Take a look at Ava!

Ava got to meet more grandparents this week! Doug and Toni came up for a quick visit.




Ava's first NFL draft. Everyone wore team colors :).



One of my good friends was pregnant at the same time I was. Darius was born 10 days before Ava (oh, I was so jealous for 10 days...) and here is where they finally met. Oh, the cute!



I keep trying to catch one of Ava's Big Smiles. I never time it right but I get some cute almost-smiles in the process. Here are a couple. If you look closely, you can see her little topknot (I need to get her in front of a lighter background). She's got this lock of hair right on top of her head that just won't lay flat. Ever.




I can't believe it's already May. It's going by so quickly. She's growing and is becoming this little person and we're so amazed by her every day. Her teachers at daycare just love her--she's low maintenance and happy most of the time. She's starting to reach for things that are in front of her (evidently a Very Significant Milestone) and recently became aware of the dog (who has been glaring at her for almost 4 months now--jealous much?).

Lazy Sunday starts.....NOW!

We Do The Best We Can With What We Have

I have time to blog at work (shhhhhh don't tell my boss) but I have pictures and video at home. I've been trying to somehow coordinate the two, but it's just not happening. I'll get pictures up later this week. Or next week, because it's already Thursday. Crap. I'm almost out of week.

I honestly thought I knew what it was to be busy. I had no idea. There's no way to predict just how much stuff would need to be crammed into a 24-hour period. My going back to work has really caused us to take a hard look at what is actually important--what really truly honestly needs to happen. The initial guilt of putting a Very Small Baby into full-time daycare was soon overshadowed by an overwhelming need to re-evaluate everything I do in the time spent away from her. One day, as I was looking at the picture I have of her on my desk, I just felt so sad. I didn't feel like what I was doing (probably playing Bejeweled on Facebook or reading Perez Hilton) was worthy of filling the time. I missed her so much, and in order make the time away from her count, I realized that I better damn well do my job the best way I know how.

It was like a lightning bolt. Because the reality of our situation is that we both work. Being sad about having to work and pissing away the time does not change that. Ava is not in daycare so as to allow me to watch the TV shows that I miss because I need to get some sleep.

My job is not my dream job--I'm not actually sure what my dream job would be. But I do like what I do. It's interesting. I meet so many fascinating people and I learn about different cultures and places. There is a lot of bureaucratic BS to cull through, but I like the part of my job that requires me to figure stuff out and break it down in a way that people who don't speak much English can figure out. Before, I came to work, I did my job, and went home and got on with my life.

It's different now. I'm on committees (well, one committee, but I've only been back a month; there are more committees forthcoming, I'm sure). I return phone calls (ugh, I hate voicemail) promptly. I take a more active role in the daily operations of my office and I actually contributed to the birthday fund instead of quietly avoiding the collection requests and tactfully refusing cake (most of the time...). I don't know if anybody has noticed, but I feel better for doing it. It makes the time spent away from that precious girl go faster, and I feel better about why I'm not with her all day every day.

It's after 5 now. I'm off to go pick her up and get a big squirmy gummy-grinned hug before we embark on the schlep home. Incidentally, the schlep home is less of an ordeal because of a carpool lane with a 2-person requirement--and a baby in a carseat? Totally counts as a second person.

And now, a musical interlude...

No Ava no cry
No Ava no cry

I say I remember when we used to sleep
Every time the sun went down
Sometimes we’d stay up and watch some Jon Stewart
And sometimes we’d read magazines
Good sleep we have oh good sleep we have had
Along the way
Say in this great future called life, we want for you to sleep
So dry your tears, I say

No Ava no cry
No Ava no cry
Here little baby, don’t shed no tears (clap clap)
No Ava no cry

I say I remember sleeping very late
And feeling very rested
And then we’d go to brunch because we were too late for breakfast
And sometimes see a movie
Now we’re up so late, driving you around
Streetlights burning through the night
Then we mix one more bottle and some Gripe Water, well I mean it
Of which will help you sleep, yeah!
Our feet is your only carriage
And so we’ve got to push on through
But while we’re up

Everything’s gonna be all right
Everything’s gonna be all right
Everything’s gonna be all right
Everything’s gonna be all right

No Ava no cry
No Ava no cry
Here, little sister, don’t shed no tears (clap clap)
No Ava no cry

Happy Easter!

And 10 minutes later...

Ava 1, RSV 0

Ava is a Tough Little Panda.

We saw Very Wise Doctor this morning, and got good news! Ava is cleared to go back to Daycare! VWD said that the fact that she tested positive for what can be a pretty serious condition but didn't ever really get sick is quite unusual. It never hit her lungs or affected her breathing, she never got a fever. She most likely would have been OK at Daycare this week (only after they douse the whole place in Purell, of course...).

She's with Gramps & Grams today. Daycare can wait one more day.

There Is A Level Of Hell Called "Logistics"

I’ve noticed that everything we do now has many steps. A simple trip to Target has become a Big Deal that must happen at a certain time (between feedings), with the proper equipment (stroller? just the carrier? list of items sorted by store geography?) and in the proper chronology (before groceries? after library? on my way home or on Rob’s). As someone who is generally aware of details even on a bad day, sometimes I just get worn out by the logistics.

A new variable is “who do we need to tell”? We like to keep people in the Loop (hence the blog) but Ava has created a significant level of interest in our doings. Our Loop has gotten large. Active players in our current Ava Is Too Sick For Daycare Loop (more on that in a minute) include both of our employers, the lead teacher at Daycare, Very Wise Doctor, Dad & Florence, a network of concerned aunties who are generous with both help and wisdom, and my assistant. Coordinating all of these players has given me wrinkly lines between my eyebrows, let me tell you.

Yes, Ava is sick. Booooo. She has what has been confirmed to be a mild case of RSV. Don’t panic. Really. While RSV can be something scary and awful involving hospitalization, Ava’s is manifesting itself much like a medium-strength cold. No temperature or wheezing, some coughing and congestion. Her appetite is good, wet and poopy diapers are coming at us steadily (such things are very important, much like the wetness/dryness of a dog’s nose to determine illness. Who knew?). She’s a bit crabby (sore throat maybe?) but that could just be because she’s my kid and crabby is a dominant gene. Whatever. Most of the time she’s squirmy and smiley and isn’t slowed down by being sick.

I took her to see Very Wise Doctor on Friday, and he tested her for RSV because he heard the cough and had a hunch. She was at Daycare yesterday (yikes, sorry to inflict Typhoid Ava on 4 other unsuspecting babies…) but is out for the rest of the week. Rob is home with her today. She’s back at VWD tomorrow morning, and unless she’s cleared to go back to Daycare, she’ll be crashing with Gramps & Grams for the rest of the week. I called Daycare to let them know. That was a fun conversation:

Me (out loud): Hi, this is Ava’s mom. She won’t be in this week, as we’ve confirmed that she has RSV.
Me (in my head): Listen you people she has been at your facility for TWO WEEKS and she has freaking RSV?! What the hell are you people doing over there? Do I get a refund for this week or is that part of the screw-you fee I get to pay for not being a stay-at-home-mom?
Lead Teacher (out loud): Oh no! Thank you so much for telling us! We hope she’s OK!
Lead Teacher (in her head): Holy crap I hope this lady doesn’t think she caught it here even though her kid’s been here only two weeks oh jeez she caught it here.
Me (out loud): What do we need to do to clear her to come back?
Me (in my head): Crap I hope she didn’t pass it along.
LT (out loud): A note from her doctor is all we need. Poor baby!
LT (in her head): Crap I hope she doesn’t call the licensing board because this stuff happens whenever you get babies in a room together. At least she called and told us though. Best. Mom. Ever! (I’m paraphrasing here)

Yeah. So she’s fine. Ava will get some quality time with my dad, which I’ll help her recover from when she’s older (KIDDING, DAD!). Seriously, we’re so lucky that they are willing, able, and available to take care of her for a few days while she gets better. And, from what I understand, she’ll most likely be back to normal within a week. We’ll keep you posted.

Routine, Schmroutine

Going back to work wasn't nearly the hellishly dramatic disaster I feared it would be. My assistant and I have officially switched roles, and she'll be training me on how to do my job this week, now that I have my bearings again. We'll probably switch back to our normal selves, a la Freaky Friday, on, well, Friday.

We've established that it is critically important to have a routine in the mornings in order for everyone to get out the door fully dressed and fully fed. So I get up around 6:30 and eat and get ready immediately. Rob's morning depends on when Ava wakes up. If she wakes up before 7, he feeds her until 7 and then I take over so he can get ready for work. It is very, very important for her to start her bottle no later than 7:30 so I can get us out the door by 8:15. Anything that can be done the night before (make lunches, fix bottles for daycare, etc.) is done the night before.

Ava is in the Twinkle Star room at daycare, which is entirely appropriate. She is after all our twinkly little star, as evidenced in her first school picture:


I KNOW!

We really do like Ava's daycare. They are wonderful and they treat her, and us, like old friends. They take excellent care of her, and I know this because I have visited her every day thus far on my lunch hour, which they don't mind a bit. I know there will come a time when I won't be able to go every day, and maybe sometime I won't feel like I need to. But right now I can and I do and my schedule and location allows it so there we are. Some days she is awake and I get to feed her, some days I catch nap time and we sit in the rocker and just have a cuddle.

It's hard to leave her. It's hard to walk away from her in the mornings. She usually falls asleep in the car and so it's easier on me to let her stay asleep in the carseat when I drop her off. The worst day was Tuesday when she was awake and hungry and crying and I handed her to Miss Nina and I could hear her all the way down the hall. Oof. But our aforementioned routine means that she eats before we leave and that problem shouldn't arise again.

So here's a video from this morning. Ava has the requisite playmat where soft friendly bugs hang down from above her and she giggles and smiles at them. And sometimes she falls asleep with her binky somehow ending up on her forehead.



So that's where we are. It was a good week. It's good to be back at work and we are pleasantly surprised with how happy we are with the daycare. Yes, there's a significant amount of mommy guilt every time I walk away from her, but it gets cancelled out by the big smile I see when I walk in to the Twinkle Star room to pick her up at the end of the day.

Back to Life, Back to Reality

I go back to work tomorrow.

The last three months have been amazing, full of moments that I never could have anticipated. We feel so lucky that I was able to take so much time off. When we sat down last summer and figured out how much time I'd be taking, three months seem like a huge amount of time. But it has flown by. I'd heard of the Baby Time Warp, when you glance up at the clock and it's 2:30 AM and then you look again a moment later and it's after 5. Actually experiencing it was overwhelming. After the three weeks we spent waiting for her to get here after I stopped working, time just seemed a blur. We look at pictures from those first few days when we just hoped to get to the next feeding and the next nap and we're amazed by how much she has changed already. The advice we received from the nurse as we checked out of the hospital was invaluable: newborns cry for three reasons only--pain, dirty diaper, and hunger. Rule them out in order, and you'll be fine. She was right.

Ava's outgrown that advice. She's less id (for you Freudians) and is more aware of what she likes and dislikes. She doesn't hesitate to tell us when she's not happy, either. Right now, when she won't calm down, it generally means that she wants to be held, and then we have to guess if she wants to be up in the traditional burping position, or down like when she's being fed. A wrong guess has disastrous results!

Her 2-month (OMG TWO MONTHS!) check up was on the 11th. She weighed 11 pounds 5 ounces and was almost 21 inches long, both of which are "excellent" according to the wise doctor. She's getting those supercute chubby wrinkly thighs that you just want to take a bite out of. She has found her hands, and she'll suck on them if we don't get to her quickly enough with a binky. She loves to watch things that are above her and move--mobiles, the dog, us, ceiling fans. Ceiling fans are the best inventions ever. I'm going to tie some scarves to ours to give her some color to watch. The best thing she does, however, are the big gummy open-mouth smiles that she gives when we smile at her. Really, nothing prepares you for that cuteness.

So about a month ago I realized I was looking forward to being back at work. And I still am, for the most part. I went shopping today and got some clothes because none of my pre-pregnancy stuff fits and I refuse to wear maternity clothes! They fit and are super comfortable, but they really do look terrible on you when you're not pregnant. So I'm going out into the world a couple of sizes larger but no worse for the wear.

I think the worst part of tomorrow, the part that I'm dreading, the part that is making me tear up even as I type, will be leaving her at the daycare. Oh good lord. Be right back...

OK OK OK I'm fine. Really. We did a trial run at the daycare on Friday. Rob took the day off and we dropped Ava off at about 10 and took care of some business and had a leisurely brunch and it was fine. We also played Megabucks just in case, but didn't win so we're still on track for this work/daycare thing. She was there for about 4 hours. We all survived. The infant room has 8 babies for 3 fulltime teachers. They're all very nice (the teachers, not the babies. Not that the babies aren't nice, but we weren't really focused on them...) and it's obvious that they love what they do. The babies (who are probably really nice in their own ways...) have their own cribs with pictures of their families (oh shoot I need to get some pictures of us...) on the rails. My office is 5 minutes away, and I'll probably visit on my lunch most days. And it will be fine. She will be fine. We will be fine.

Be right back...

I'm OK as long as nobody asks if I'm OK, because they get this look in their eyes when they ask like they're expecting me to break down into tears, which I inevitably do as soon as they're not looking. So for Christ's sake don't ask if I'm OK. Just know that I am. And I know that Rob is too, even though walking out of the daycare while she cried for her regularly scheduled bottle about killed us both.

Be right back...

I blame the hormones.

Generations

This is our family Bible.


And it has been in our family for four generations, beginning with my great-grandmother, and it has been passed down through the daughters. I've had it for about 10 years, and one day a few years back I opened it for the first time ever. It's kind of fragile--the front cover is no longer actually attached--so it's always been a "look but don't touch" relic. But I'm a grown-up, and so I figured nobody was going to ground me for opening it. Inside, I found a family history. My great-grandmother started it:

"This Bible was given to Lura, daughter of Abigail, daughter of Philura. At the death of Philura, who is Lura's grandmother, this book will belong to Emily, Lura's daughter."

And then, in my grandmother's writing:

"Emily's daughter Carolyn will receive it at Emily's death."

We actually received it years before Emily died, and it was on the same plant-stand it sits on now in the house in which I grew up for as long as I can remember.

On subsequent pages, my great-grandmother (the aforementioned Lura) wrote down the dates of births, deaths, and marriages of her family, and again, the daughters wrote their own updates and additions. And when I married Rob, I added us to the long list. Today, on the page for births, I wrote in Ava's name and birth date. Someday, this big beautiful book will be hers. She is its fifth generation.

There are probably half a dozen pressed flowers in this Bible. I don't know most of their origins; whomever placed them inside didn't leave a note. I imagine many of the flowers are from weddings or christenings. One is from my mom's funeral; another is from my own wedding. These are all part of our story, and someday Ava will add her own.

To clarify...

The music in that video was added during the editing process. No other special effects were used, however.

:)

A Typical Evening.

When I was pregnant, Ava had a definite schedule of activity from the moment I first became aware of her. For most of the day, I'd feel little movements here and there and not much at all in the afternoons. Then at night, right when I'd be ready to go to bed, she would come to life.

Ava has maintained that schedule. Observe.



I know it's long, but it's worth watching until the end, isn't it?

This is essentially what happens every night. This was filmed between 10 and 11PM last night. As you can see, she finally wore herself out and we all got about 3 hours of sleep after that. Rob and I frequently discuss how wonderful it will be when she gets over that subsequent feeding, which generally comes around 1:30AM. Oof. It's a tough one, because it's probably half an hour of actual food consumption and then an hour or more of Ava wide awake and wanting to play. The graveyard shift makes for a long night and an even longer next day.

Fortunately for her, she's super cute.



Seriously.