Sunday, August 28 . . . "Tropic" of "Cancer"

Ok, here's where the title "Tropic of Cancer" comes from today.

This weekend, NYC was struck by Hurricane Irene, its first hurricane since . . . well, we probably get remnants of hurricanes all the time, but it's been a while since we actually had to prepare for the real thing. We got word on Thursday or so that Hurricane Irene was coming and might be bad -- I bought a jug of water. Friday we were told to prepare for the worst (at the time it was a Category 3) and to prepare to evacuate if you lived in low-lying areas (I bought another jug of water and cans of tuna and soup). Friday afternoon, the city announced they would be shutting down the subway system as of noon on Saturday, and would announce the evacuation plan by Saturday morning -- I made Chris meet me at the store where I bought rice cakes and english muffins (which we needed anyway). We spent all Saturday watching the local news and weather channel, watched other people evacuate (our apartment was not in a danger zone), and hunkered down. It started raining hard in the evening, and started lightning around 10pm. We unplugged everything before we went to bed, just in case it got worse and we had a surge. I woke up around 3:00am to go to the bathroom and saw sheets of water cascading over the roads. But by morning, there was less water than when we went to bed! It was barely raining! We spent the morning watching the news, and while some areas were very flooded and there were lots of trees down, we had NOTHING! That, and by the time it made landfall, it had been downgraded to a Tropical Storm . . . hence "Tropic". So, our first real hurricane was sort of dud, at least in my neighborhood.

10pm

8am -- less water than the night before!

Gipper surveys the damage

and helps with the cleanup.

But when you hear there's a hurricane coming, you have to dress the part.

"I am Tropical Storm Rowan!"

"uhg . . . too much rum punch."

So there's another "Tropic"al part of our day (thanks Myia for all the awesome tropical clothes!)

So, finally, the cancer. No need to fear, that's just me being a hypochondriac. The running joke in our house is to say "remember the time I had Glaucoma?" or "Yeah, it's just a bruise . . . or, you know, shin cancer." And not only did we have two natural disasters this week (oh, did I mention there was also an earthquake on Tuesday?), Chris and I had the plague. Baby had a fever on Wednesday, and apparently the rule is that for however long the baby is sick, mom and/or dad is sick 4x longer. When he had a cold for 2 days, mom had a cold for 8 days. So when baby had a fever for a few hours on Wednesday, that of course means mom and dad have throat infections for 4 days. The cancer part comes in when I panicked that it would get worse today, sunday, when supposedly we would be house-bound trying to escape Noah's flood, and would therefore be without access to antibiotics. I somehow convinced myself that if I did not treat this infection soon enough, it would develop into some incurable super-infection, like how HPV becomes cervical cancer. More likely, I'll be fine by tomorrow and won't even remember that I was sick.

Thursday, August 18 . . . Mom coats

There is a reason mom-style rain coats are a thing: it is unbelievably difficult to push a snap-n-go stroller with one hand while holding an umbrella with the other. Result: either you hunch and push with one hand and one elbow/shoulder/rib-cage, or . . .

Please note that baby is completely dry (and somewhat assumed at how wet Daddy is)

I've been lucky that it's only rained twice in the morning since I've been dropping him at daycare -- once it was light enough that I didn't have to worry about it, but once it was hard enough where I had to deal with the umbrella. But that was one time too many. I need a raincoat.

Now, along the lines as the Mom Haircut (sorry Mom), there is such a thing as a Mom Raincoat. I think of it as something like this:

Very useful, very functional, just not very stylish, pretty, or flattering.

I want something that a celebrity mom might wear. (really, I just want to be Angelina Jolie, but that's a different issue.)

Katie Holmes, looking adorable.

Angelina Jolie in a super cute trench coat

I couldn't find a trench coat I liked, but I did find this one:

  

I love that it has a hood, and I love that it doesn't look like a raincoat. We'll see how it looks in person.

Monday, August 15 . . . sick day

Baby was still having a bad reaction to the shots, so we stayed home today. He woke up all snotty and a little hot, though I couldn't quite get the hang of the ear thermometer, so we'll never know for sure. Before it started raining, we went up the hill to get some breakfast, and then hunkered down to chill all day. Baby nursed and slept, nursed and slept, smiled, chewed on things, screamed, nursed, and slept.
I watched Nursery University (oh my god), and lots of Grey's Anatomy. I finished knitting all the pieces to baby sweater #2. I got caught up on The Real Housewives of New Jersey.

And the baby won't get Polio.

It was a good day.

Sunday, August 14 . . . 4-month checkup

Went to the doctor for baby's 4-month checkup today! (And YES, they are open on Sundays! I LOVE THEM!)

(he loved the crinkly paper on the exam table)

Stats:
13 pounds, 6 ounces
24 inches tall
16 inches head circumference

The doctor said he's in the 25th percentile for everything, so nice and proportionate.

He got the next dose of all his vaccines, and while baby cried nice and loud (it's still so nice when he proves to other people at he is EFFING LOUD!!!), Mom hardly cried at all. :)

We treated ourselves to coffee in town and then spent the rest of the day hanging out and sleeping (and drugging baby with tylenol).

One issue . . . we saw the backup doctor instead of our regular doctor, and she did not seem very up-to-date on breastfeeding recommendations. First she said that we should start him on solids (not recommended until 6 months), stop feeding him at night (NOT recommended if I'm pumping, since the night-nursing helps keep up my supply), and to give him water in the bottle (not recommended if exclusively nursing, since it fills him up with not milk). I tried to be nice, while in my head saying "you don't know what you're talking about." I only hope that our regular doctor is a little better when we go in for our 6-month checkup.

Thursday, August 11 . . . Four Months!!!

Four months already. In some ways, four months seems so short -- if you'd only been playing a sport or playing a musical instrument for four months, no one would blame you for sucking at it. However, in Life with a Baby Land, four months feels like a year - a year that went by in a second. Where we were a third of a year ago is unrecognizable from where we are now. Hell, the BABY is unrecognizable from when he was born. We have to adapt so quickly to so many things, or simply learn to survive them, there's no time to dwell and savor and revel in the minutiae of the day. The days moves so fast that at the very moment when I feel I have a moment to stop. breathe. . savor. . . . crap, I feel asleep for a minute. Ok, time's up, time to run again!

Things my 4-month-old can do:

Reach out for things


Put those things in his mouth


Sleep for several hours not necessarily on top of me (though Mommy is still usually necessary)


Smile at everyone


"Laugh" . . . I put quotes around it because I still haven't heard it, and therefore don't believe Daddy when he swears he heard it.


Play games with himself, like splashing in the tub and throwing his Pooh blanket off his Bumbo tray and then looking to see where it went.



Charm the hair bows off the pre-schoolers at day care. They ask if they can watch him instead of the teachers.

Sunday, August 7 . . . road trip!

Well, not "road" trip per se, but a subway trip. It was really nice to get out of the house with the baby to do something FUN! We went to Union Square to meet up with my friend Kaitlin from college. I haven't seen her since my birthday in January, and she was SO excited to see the bebe.
We got coffee and sat in the park.

She got to see the whole spectrum of baby -- poop, eat, spitup, scream, fall asleep. Plus we got to show off our Moby Wrap (and he LOVED being on the subway facing out so he could watch everyone).