Drew is in Seattle today (Sunday) and Monday. He left at 3 p.m. yesterday so he could go to a banquet and hear what big-time journalism award he won. Turns out the investigative story he did on Washington Mutual's demise won best business story in the entire Pacific Northwest! He said the banquet was boring and it was not worth getting a baby-sitter.
So, wanting company, I went to our friend Catherine's house. She has a 3-year-old, Josie. Cat made us dinner and we had watermelon for dessert. "Why don't you see if Rachel likes it?" Cat asked. So she sliced the watermelon into tiny squares for Rachel to handle easily. And she left out the seeds.
Rachel loved it! Probably more for the texture than the taste, as Cat pointed out, but still, Rachel ate several pieces and smacked her lips, her sign for "I really like this, Mommy!" Then I gave her some small crackers and she ate those, too. AND she drank all her bottle last night. I'm amazed she hasn't gained more weight. She's 19 pounds.
This morning I gave her some slices of strawberry. Oregon strawberries (and marionberries, and blackberries) are the best reason to live in Oregon and I look forward to them all year, so I was hoping Rachel would find them delicious, too. She looked dubiously at the strawberry slices, then realized she could mush them up, let them drop INSIDE her bib and ruin her perfectly cute pink onesie, etc. She also ate a little of my scone, too.
Plus, she can now drink from a sippy cup! That was a big one for me, since all my friends with younger babies say their little ones have been sippy cup drinkers for months now. I'm glad Rachel finally got with the program.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Saturday, May 30, 2009
My first wake
A former colleague of mine, Pat O'Neill, died two weeks ago of cancer. A wake for him was held last night at the Scottish Rite Temple near PGE Park.
It was a beautiful space, very fitting for Pat's spirit. Everyone brought food -- much better than hiring a caterer, I thought -- and reminisced about how much fun Pat had had while he was alive. His doctor -- his doctor! At his wake! -- talked about how Pat had "lived his disease, rather than letting IT live HIM." It was the best quote of the night and really made me think.
Also what made me think was seeing so many former Oregonian colleagues, as well as folks from the Department of Human Services, where Pat worked after taking a buyout two years ago. Mel Kohn, the state's acting director of public health, spoke. He lives three blocks for us and is such a nice, down-to-earth guy, it's hard to remember he has such an important job.
Drew and I took Rachel with us. We were lucky there was at least one other kid there -- our friend Catherine's 3-year-old, Josie. She was fascinated by Rachel and kept staring at her, for which Catherine was grateful because it kept her occupied.
Rachel was dressed in a little summer dress that Drew bought her last week, and white socks with lace around the cuffs. She looked ADORABLE and got a lot of compliments. A few people were gracious and said she looks like a combination of me and Drew, but most agree that she looks almost exclusively like him.
Afterward I wondered: When I die, will Rachel organize a memorial service? Who would come? What would they say?
It was a beautiful space, very fitting for Pat's spirit. Everyone brought food -- much better than hiring a caterer, I thought -- and reminisced about how much fun Pat had had while he was alive. His doctor -- his doctor! At his wake! -- talked about how Pat had "lived his disease, rather than letting IT live HIM." It was the best quote of the night and really made me think.
Also what made me think was seeing so many former Oregonian colleagues, as well as folks from the Department of Human Services, where Pat worked after taking a buyout two years ago. Mel Kohn, the state's acting director of public health, spoke. He lives three blocks for us and is such a nice, down-to-earth guy, it's hard to remember he has such an important job.
Drew and I took Rachel with us. We were lucky there was at least one other kid there -- our friend Catherine's 3-year-old, Josie. She was fascinated by Rachel and kept staring at her, for which Catherine was grateful because it kept her occupied.
Rachel was dressed in a little summer dress that Drew bought her last week, and white socks with lace around the cuffs. She looked ADORABLE and got a lot of compliments. A few people were gracious and said she looks like a combination of me and Drew, but most agree that she looks almost exclusively like him.
Afterward I wondered: When I die, will Rachel organize a memorial service? Who would come? What would they say?
Friday, May 29, 2009
Drew the rock star
Drew has always secretly wanted to be in a punk rock band, despite the fact that he can't carry a tune. This of course does not prevent him from singing off-tune Beatles songs to Rachel as he's rocking her to sleep.
But now he gets to be a rock star in his own household. The last two nights I've been alone with Rachel, she has called me "Dada!" Not "Mama!" or "Mamee!" but "Dada." "Honey, I'm Mama, not Dada," I tell her, smiling. To which she replies with a grin, "Dada!"
She lit up this morning when Drew and I walked into her room but kept her eyes firmly on Drew. When we took her for a walk earlier this week he said smugly, "Basically, I rock her world."
It seems he is right.
But now he gets to be a rock star in his own household. The last two nights I've been alone with Rachel, she has called me "Dada!" Not "Mama!" or "Mamee!" but "Dada." "Honey, I'm Mama, not Dada," I tell her, smiling. To which she replies with a grin, "Dada!"
She lit up this morning when Drew and I walked into her room but kept her eyes firmly on Drew. When we took her for a walk earlier this week he said smugly, "Basically, I rock her world."
It seems he is right.
Rachel gets an owie
"So, how was her day?" I asked Shannon, one of the daycare ladies, as I picked Rachel up last night.
"I have some bad news," she replied.
I expected to hear that Rachel was very sick. Turns out that she was bitten by another baby. They were both crawling toward the same ball, and the other baby bit Rachel before grabbing it. Or something like that. It happens all the time, I was told, and at this age, it's not malicious. No skin was broken, and Rachel was less freaked out by the actual bite than of the daycare ladies trying to put ice on the wound. She didn't like that at all.
So, now she looks like she has a big hickie on her cheek. It looks like she's been in a fight, albeit a gentle one.
"I have some bad news," she replied.
I expected to hear that Rachel was very sick. Turns out that she was bitten by another baby. They were both crawling toward the same ball, and the other baby bit Rachel before grabbing it. Or something like that. It happens all the time, I was told, and at this age, it's not malicious. No skin was broken, and Rachel was less freaked out by the actual bite than of the daycare ladies trying to put ice on the wound. She didn't like that at all.
So, now she looks like she has a big hickie on her cheek. It looks like she's been in a fight, albeit a gentle one.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Baby radio
This morning Drew and I were awakened by gentle music through the baby monitor. It turns out that Rachel was playing with a plastic music station we attached to her crib. When you press the buttons, it plays snatches of classical music.
In between the music we heard her gently burbling to herself.
"I love listening to her," Drew said. "It's the baby radio channel! Like baby video, only with the picture turned off."
In between the music we heard her gently burbling to herself.
"I love listening to her," Drew said. "It's the baby radio channel! Like baby video, only with the picture turned off."
Monday, May 18, 2009
The sweet perfume of baby
The conversation between Drew and me this morning, when he brought Rachel into the bathroom to watch Mommy blow-dry her hair (Keep in mind while reading this that we have not one, not two, but THREE university degrees between us. Plus one fellowship):
Lisa (putting her nose next to Rachel's neck and breathing her in): Oh, she smells like baby! I love that smell!
Drew: Actually, she smells like a mixture of baby and urine.
Lisa: Yeah, when you walk into her room, it smells faintly of poop.
Drew: Like a subway station!
Lisa: A gently used one.
Lisa (putting her nose next to Rachel's neck and breathing her in): Oh, she smells like baby! I love that smell!
Drew: Actually, she smells like a mixture of baby and urine.
Lisa: Yeah, when you walk into her room, it smells faintly of poop.
Drew: Like a subway station!
Lisa: A gently used one.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Home again
Drew and The Little Girl picked me up at the airport tonight when my plane came in two hours late. (It's United, what did you expect?). That meant we couldn't go out for dinner or gelato. We will try for gelato tomorrow night.
It looked like Rachel had grown up by two months or so...her little face looked so much more mature, even though I've only been away three days! Drew informed me that she can now use a sippy cup (with some help), holds her bottle all by herself (most of the time) and I noticed after bathtime that she was clutching a stuffed mouse that Aunt Ruth and Uncle Steve sent as part of a lovely flower basket when Rachel was born (thanks again!)
I'll be leaving again on Thursday for Valerie's baby-naming ceremony in NY. When I get back, I plan to give Drew at least one baby-free day. He could use it.
It looked like Rachel had grown up by two months or so...her little face looked so much more mature, even though I've only been away three days! Drew informed me that she can now use a sippy cup (with some help), holds her bottle all by herself (most of the time) and I noticed after bathtime that she was clutching a stuffed mouse that Aunt Ruth and Uncle Steve sent as part of a lovely flower basket when Rachel was born (thanks again!)
I'll be leaving again on Thursday for Valerie's baby-naming ceremony in NY. When I get back, I plan to give Drew at least one baby-free day. He could use it.
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