Cognosco

On Monday I came across this State of the Union drinking game, which was obviously satirical, and quite complicated. But it inspired me to actually play a drinking game during the address. So, we cracked open a bottle of wine, grabbed two shot glasses (they were actually saki glasses), and we took a drink for each of these pre-determined phrases:

• "economic stimulus package"
• "9/11"
• "War on terror"
• "Make tax cuts permanent"
• "Culture of life"
• "Osama bin Ladin"
• "Housing market"
• "Border security" (or “secure our borders”)

The only phrase that didn’t explicitly come up was “culture of life” although he alluded to it. He didn’t actually say it, of course, because he is not campaigning for re-election.

Needless to say, we were pretty tipsy by the end of the speech. I think we’ll do this every year.

I read a great personal account of postpartum nursing (as in being a nurse caring for a pospartum mom…not postpartum breastfeeding, which would be a terribly redundant term).

Magical child.

Boy with the devious smile.

Baby love who is older,

so much older

than he appears.

Magical child.

My blessing.

Such a challenge

to be your mother

and your guide.

Magical child.

Euphoria.

Up and down,

you keep me

never waiting

for a new direction.

Magical child.

Boy with the sweet

sweet smile

and solid stance,

determination personified.

Magical child.

Scientist.

Inventor.

Experimenter.

Catalyst.

Window

into the mind.

Magical child.

I am so glad

to know you,

so glad I waited

to know you

until I was strong enough

to be kind to you.

Magical child.

My little one.

Boy made of squeals

and screams

and giggles

and storms.

Magical child.

You speak a language

of monkeys,

coyotes,

a dolphin,

a spirit beam.

Magical child.

Loki child.

Musical child.

Aquarian child,

I love you.

Dear Albie,

It’s been really hard for me to sit down and write this update, because I feel like so much has happened in the last month. I was off from school for holiday break, so I got to spend every day with you from about mid-December to mid-January. I’ll admit, I got a little stir crazy, but then we found a really nice groove. Which is when I had to return to school, of course. The plus side of that month together is that you really have a routine that suits you now. Your sleep and naps are pretty much like clockwork, except when you’re sick. Which you have been off and on (more on than off) since Christmas. It’s the first time you’ve been sick enough to actually have a real fever that I monitored. This makes me realize that I have been so lucky in that your first year has been surprisingly uneventful in the health department. Except for the jaundice. And your penis. The way I see it, the whole penis thing was like a voucher from the universe for you to skip at least a few colds. That’s only fair.

You experienced your first Christmas this year. It was awesome. All of your cousins were here, and so there were fourteen little people under the age of ten at the Christmas eve and Christmas. You were the youngest—but that won’t last. You already have two cousins on the way for next year. All of the kids put on a little Christmas story pageant for Christmas eve. It was total mayhem with towels for gowns and such, but very fun. Since you are the youngest, you were baby Jesus. I’m not religious. I’m not Christian. But I will say that I much enjoyed your acting debut as baby Jesus. Especially when you kept crawling away from your cousins Joseph and Mary.

We went through a REALLY fussy phase about two weeks ago. I could not, for the life of me, figure out what the heck was wrong. I’d feed you, you’d eat, you’d seem to be done, I’d let you out of your chair. You’d be happy, and a half an hour later turn into a nightmare. Turns out, you were hungry. I had mistaken your “being done” for “being bored”. So, if I went ahead and just fed you every half an hour, you were happy. I think it’s called a growth spurt. I was feeding you about half of what you were capable of eating. Sorry about that.

A few quick notes about the last month: you’ve almost mastered a sippy cup, your second set of top teeth are poking through, you’ve started pointing to things, you say “ma” and “da” and it’s obvious who you mean, I think you’re trying to say “dog” as well, you are showing signs of wanting to feed yourself (be afraid…), you very often find your binky and pop it back in yourself to go back to sleep.

I could go on and on about different things that have happened, but I’m going to steal a little formatting from my friend Leigh, and just sum up your likes and dislikes (and such)…

You like:

Cherries, pasta, green veggies, yogurt, most food, opening drawers and cabinets, emptying drawers and cabinets, playing in your crib (except when you don’t), power cords, your Tiggy, Radiohead, jazz, Prince (post- Darling Nikki), banging things together, throwing things, playing with my Tibetan singing bowl, baths and showers, sitting on the toilet, Sesame Street, books

You are fascinated by:

My saxophone (you sing or scream along), animals, other children, computers, cell phones

You dislike:

apples and blueberries if mixed together (though they are okay when separated), peaches, strange textures, being bored, having your nose wiped, diaper changes, being bored, being told no, being hungry, being bored

You are frustrated by:

not being taller, not being able to communicate your desires more effectively, boundaries 

I love you, little Dude,

Love,
Mama