Such a Perfect Day

The usual routine is this: Mike takes Donovan to daycare and I go to work. After work, I pick up Donovan from daycare. Daycare is near where Mike works so we usually meet him there and we all go home together. Sometimes Donny and I have an hour or an hour and a half to kill. Sometimes the kid and I take the bus home but usually not.

Today I didn't want to collapse into the routine. Mike had the day off so we met on Craig Street, picked up the boy, picked up some fried chicken and had a picnic on the rim of the Mary Schenley fountain in Oakland. The fountain is right on the edge of Schenley Park, which is where we decided we wanted to take a walk. Donovan was content to sit in his stroller while we ate and, once we where done, we loaded the boy up into the front facing baby carrier and started over the bridge to the Park. I should add that, after about 2 weeks of backbreaking heat and humidity, tonight was balmy and luxuriously comfortable. I was hoping we could walk thru the garden at Phipps Conservatory but, in a move reminiscent of the Giant in the Oscar Wilde story, the gates were locked: Hmmph. We did get to visit the little lily ponds, at which point Donny immediately demanded a bottle. After he was fed, he became his usually happy self and I finally got an almost photo of that sideways smile:

We also got to visit my favorite fountain, which is this almost shoulder-high bronze basin on four bronze legs. It reminds me very much of the Rider Waite Tarot Card the Ace of Cups. This might have been a nice photo of me and the boy if I had remembered to remove the soiled burpcloth from the front of the carrier:

After our photo ops, we walked back to the car, loaded everything up and headed home. The boy got a bath and a bottle, after which he was so sleepy he didn't even need to be swaddled. He's asleep in his crib splayed out like a frog on its back.

I hope you had a great day as well.

Freedom and Pining

Mike has three days off of work in a row. That means that he can spell me off as far as picking up the kid at daycare. And that means that I can actually go downtown right after work, just like I used to do when I was footloose and babyfree. I need to do some serious clothes shopping, some recognisance mission shoe shopping and also run up to the furniture section of Macy's just to see what's what.

I was supergeeked this weekend when I realized I'd be able to get some shopping done but now two things are clouding my enthusiasm. First, I balanced the checkbook and, brothers and sisters, we are broke. This childcare thing: WHEW. Second, I'm really missing the boy. I went with Mike to drop him off at daycare and got to play elevator with him a little before I left. He's got such a great, unbridled, gummy smile--how did a misanthrope like me end up with such a happy boy? Finally, irony is paying off!

Escape From Tunic Mountain

The office is in the room next door to the nursery. Whenever we put the boy down for the night, I take the opportunity to go online and do whatever while I wait to see if he really and truly is going to go to sleep. That is, in fact, what I'm doing right now--its earlier than usual for him but we had him out with us all day, starting with church at 10am, thru lunch and various varieties of shopping until about 4pm. We normally have him sit with us at the dinner table--we pull his carseat stroller up between us--and tonight he was so sleepy he fell asleep sitting up like that. Right now, he's psyching me out, making little noises that could either be "I'm cooing before I go to sleep," or "I'm winding up for the mother of all screaming sessions."

The shopping today was necessary and good. Mike got a new pair of shoes. He gets shoes with the same frequency that the children in the "Little House On the Prairie" books got shoes, so its always a big occasion. I am smack in the middle of my own personal midlife crisis which involves clothing: when I wasn't looking, clothes changed. Waistlines have both dropped and risen, fabrics are strangely stretchy and thin and the currency of the realm seems to be tunics. As a big gal, I can't quite rock the tunic. Tunics on skinny girls are swingy; tunics on big gals are muu muus. Imagine my surprise when, amid the tunics and the sleeveless tops I found a black boucle wool top. Sort of a bolero jacket, sort of a cape, sort of the stuff of my dreams. Sure, I won't be able to wear it until November, but I can wait. It was just nice to meet myself amid the racks at Marshalls. I do have taste, albeit odd, and I'm happy I found time amid motherhood to reinforce it.

Mike just came up with a bottle for the boy. The fussing has begun...

The Mysteries of Polish Hill. And Babyclothes--Lots of Babyclothes...

Word on the street is that there is an organic apiary in Polish Hill. I looked all over those Internets, hoping for a website and the closest I came was mention of J&B Apiary as a participant in The Farmers @ Firehouse Farmer's Market:

http://www.slowfood.com/ffvendor.html

in the Strip District. The one bus that goes thru Polish Hill (the 54C) also goes thru the Strip, so I decided today that Donovan would have his first ride facing forward in the Baby Bjorn Carrier. Yes, today we would celebrate my son's manly neck muscles and their prowess in holding up his horribly huge head.

It was odd walking around, not seeing what my son was doing (smiling? drooling? getting ready to shriek?) but it was superdreamy not having to lug the carseat stroller on and off the bus. I used other people's reactions to Donovan to let me know how he was doing. As usual, many strangers had to comment, but that was good: "Oh! He's so alert!" "He's smiling! Yes he is!" I can only imagine what Donovan thinks of all this.

The Farmers Market in question was small but very nice. Not that I bought anything--I have this thing about not being able to spend money when I have it--but there were flowers and be-U-tee-ful, shiny peppers, lots of tomatoes and herbs. No apiary, however. Dear Apiary People: I am your neighbor and I would like to give you my money. Please come out. I won't hurt you.

Not only was today a good day but yesterday was excellent as well. Donovan and I got to hang out with Sheryl at Whole Foods and at home and then I got to go to Kelly's with Sheryl and our friend Caroline. Caroline is in town from Bad Oldesloe in Germany. She is the mother of two very sweet and funny girls and, as a mother, she took it upon herself to send boxes of baby clothes and toys home to Pittsburgh to bring over when she was in town. The swag was definitely good and I am going to share the German wealth with Amy and Stella.

Yesterday, I noticed the lovely and fairly expensive babyclothes store near Whole Foods had closed. I'm sorry to see it go but, really: no one could possibly make a living selling baby clothes. Trust me, it gets to a point where you can't give them away. Its a thriving underground. To paraphrase Amy, don't cut down anymore babyclothes trees! Renew, Reuse, Recycle!

That means you, soon to be Aunt to a Nephew, Ann Marie...

This Just In:

My $155 breastpump won't work.

I have a nasty feeling that last post of mine was just too tempting to The Fates.

Sigh.

Breastfeeding: Sheesh...

Yesterday was a crazy day--Donny was really fussy in the morning. REALLY fussy. Despite the shrieking and the crying of real tears we got him dressed in his Jimmy Sommerville Back Up Singer outfit and took him into daycare. I went to work where the craziness continued in workmode: new people to train, new paperwork to fill out about the new people, crazy patrons who don't understand that we don't have Wonkavision in the archives and cannot send them their chocolate bar immediately via their television. In the middle of all this I got a call from daycare that Donovan had a fever and could I come get him, please? I called Mike, left work early, caught the 500 to Eastminster, met Mike, packed up our hot, sweaty little Jimmy Sommerville Back Up Dancer and went to the doctor. Doc said give him Tylenol for Babies. We left the Doctor's to a torrential downpour. Oddly, the Doctor's office, if you take a left, opens up into a Boston Market, so we had dinner there so the rain could stop. When we finally got home and got the boy to bed I realized: I had'nt pumped at all.

Today I had to go in early for a meeting that turned out to be good despite being 3 hours long. I went to lunch late and came back to a leak in the Archives room. Luckily, the leak only dampened empty boxes but it still pissed me off and required much moving of furniture and supplies. In the middle of all this, day care called to say the their power had gone out and could I come get Donovan, please? I called Mike to let him know, tried to find the powers that be at the library to let them know I had to go mid-leak (*snort*) and, failing to find the powers that be, I told the women who are really in charge. I caught the 500, got the kid, hung out at Goodwill until the rain stopped and Whole Foods reopened, met Mike at Whole Foods and we went home. Home to where there was no electricity and the clock in the kitchen said the power went out about 6 hours earlier. I ate the pasta salad I'd gotten myself for tomorrow's lunch and then fell asleep and dreamed about Tears for Fears (?!). Woke up and realized: No pumping today, either.

When I think of the money I've spent buying pumps, renting pumps, buying nursing bras, much less the fact that I've been driven to drinking beer...it makes me grumpy...

2 Donovans

Donovan is named after Donovan--meaning, my son is named after my Dad. Dad is still around and kicking, thank you. He is a first time grandparent at 82, a fact that he finds so amusing/befuddling that he likes to mention it to strangers in the doctor's office.

The Original Donovan (OD) came back home from a rehab facility this weekend--not in the Lindsey Lohan sense but in the needs-to-gain-some-strength-back sense. He'd been in the home for about 2 months after a fall at home. Our monthly visit with the boy coincided with Dad coming home.

Having worked at a rest home in my youth, I had some trepidation about coming home. Dad is now confined to the ground floor of the house with a hospital bed set up in the dining room, which is now his bedroom. Bedroom complete with 3 china hutches. It was pretty hard to see him use a walker, eat while wearing a bib, and have trouble getting around. That being said, he's still him and it was nice to hang out with him and watch him fuss over his grandson. Mike and I have managed to make a very happy baby who, if he's fed and rested, will babble and smile incessently, which is just perfect for out of town grandparents who are happy to stare at him for hours.

My Mom tried to talk me into leaving Lil' D there for August. I don't think he would have minded.