Hi and welcome to the DeSilver family in Oregon blog!

Hi folks,

Well, we've officially joined the blogosphere! (When I say "we," I really mean "me," Lisa, since Drew has an oft-expressed contempt for social networking technology). So many of you have been so kind to us through Rachel's first months of life that I thought you'd like regular updates on her progress from an in-utero pollywog to an actual human being. I will try to update this as often as possible and, someday soon, will figure out how to post photos AND video. (Yes, Mom and Dad, we will be getting a Webcam this year:)).

You may remember from our holiday card that Rachel was chewing on her fingers, smiling, giggling occasionally and babbling to herself in a language only she understands. Since then she has made major developmental leaps, sometimes one every, oh, three hours. She regularly tries to knock her bottle out of my hand and grab it to feed herself, although she hasn't quite figured out how to do anything with the nipple except roll it around in her mouth. Also, she grabs for things and tries to stuff them in her mouth -- my plastic ID card from The Oregonian, a silver locket, a necklace with miniature wooden elephants I bought in South Africa years ago. She blows raspberries all the time, especially when we're trying to feed her rice cereal (I hope this means she'll become a gourmand because, frankly, rice cereal tastes yucky. How can I blame her for turning up her nose at it?). AND, today, she grabbed the remote control, pushed a button and changed the channel. Before you all congratulate us on her brilliance, rest assured that it's probably due to Drew's innate guy tendency to channel flip. (Drew's opinion, anyway).

She's quite social at daycare and it looks as if she'll be a reliable breeding ground for all the illnesses that come with the territory. This weekend she had The Tummy Bug From Hell, resulting in projectile vomiting (and I thought projectile vomiting was a movie myth! Ha ha ha ha ha...) and diarrhea. Otherwise she was playful and happy, so much so that she generously shared her illness with Drew, who looked like Death Warmed Over yesterday in between frequent trips to the bathroom. Wish him well on his recovery; he is still weak but functioning. I, of course, remain ridiculously healthy, running between her bedroom and ours, changing diapers and forcing Drew to drink ginger ale and stop trying to be "helpful."

So now I am monitoring the police radio as I work a weekend shift, looking forward to Rachel's face light up as I walk through the door tonight.