Baby Grady's First Christmas

Baby Grady had no idea Christmas was coming and the surprise and excitement hit him so hard he pretty much had to sleep it off for the entire day. Just being present was quite a lot to handle on its own, which makes a lot of sense if you know my family. Between the mountain of presents from Granny J and Gumpa and the controlled chaos of a visit from his uncles, aunt, cousins, and their crazy dog, it’s hard to know how Grady had energy left not only for the other mountain of presents from Grandma and Grandpa but also for charming everyone’s pants off (figuratively speaking, of course). He’s a really impressive baby, obviously.

We started the day with stockings from Grandma and small sacks of stocking stuffers from me (due to the lack of stockings on hand). Our future Christmases will be much classier, though, because Grandma knitted stockings for me and Grady and brought Jasper’s with her from Spokane. Behold the cuteness and knitting beauty:

Side one:

Side two:

Then we required refueling, of course, which involved french toast casserole (Thanks, Paula Deen! I had no idea I could even fit that much cream and butter in that dish!), bacon, and coffee.

Then on to the presents, proper. And now I must ask... have you ever attended a Christmas at which only adults and an oblivious baby are present? It is shockingly civilized. So much so that if you don’t have to be anywhere, you could spend the whole day at it. We took turns, watched others open their gifts, and said thank you. It took forever! And we wonder how long it will be before Baby Grady turns Christmas into a hurricane of shredded wrapping paper, glee, and overstimulated tears. One year or two?

Then the Carriers visited and our day was instantly transformed into a delightful zoo. There was property damage; there were tears. It was really a classic Carrier holiday, except we never got to the tequila shots.

In the evening, Baby Grady continued his peaceful napping and enabled me to make a whole dinner in between feedings. It was really the most amazing thing. We ate pork tenderloin with roasted baby and sweet potatoes, garlicky kale with bacon, spiced cranberry sauce, and spinach salad with goat cheese, walnuts, and clementines. It was all pretty delicious and then there was pie (and all the best dinners end in pie; it’s a fact). Our spread included blueberry streusel, pecan, and pumpkin. Three varieties, so we were slightly short of my holiday standard of one pie per adult, but as with all things in which I fall short of late: “People, haven’t you heard? I have a baby!”

Yes, his feet are reindeer. Merry Christmas (or happy whatever you celebrate) and you're welcome.

After dinner, Baby Grady was all kinds of fussy for several hours. Then, suddenly, he started dependably and unmistakably smiling at me. These were the first smiles where I knew, without a doubt, that he was really smiling, and not just feeling pleased with himself for giving his pants the business. Everyone else was asleep, because all my shushing was apparently very soothing if your name is not Baby Grady... So that meant that Grady and I had this whole smiley little late-night hangout sesh before he decided he was tired enough to go to bed around midnight. It’s such a silly parental thing to say, but it was of course, completely worth the late night. (And Jasper got his own smiley-fest the next day, while the boys were checking out Grady’s “bodacious” mobile. Jasper’s description, obviously.)

Number of presents Baby Grady received for Christmas: A LOT. Like, a really silly number of presents for a baby.
Number of presents Baby Grady unwrapped himself: zero
Number of presents Baby Grady was awake for the opening of: also zero
Number of stuffies Baby Grady received: 2
Number of silky blankies Baby Grady received: 1
Number of fuzzy sleeping sacks (with matching hat!) Baby Grady received: 1

Number of Grady’s uncles involved in a Matrix-style assassination of Jasper with their new Nerf machine guns: 2
Number of gates that required rebuilding after being shattered by Peanut the dog: 1

State of Baby Grady’s table manners: really questionable, assuming that having a boob in your mouth, burping loudly, and spitting up your last meal are all inappropriate table behaviors

Superfluous pictures of Reese and Puppet opening presents:

One Month

Photo: Baby Grady, one month old, and Bruce de Bruce, Jasper's first and favorite teddy bear (so says Grandma)

According to the calendar, my baby is one month old. He actually turned one month on Christmas Eve, but I was busy being Christmasy and did not take time to update his fans. Bad blogger.

So, one month old. This sounds unbelievable. How can he already be a whole month old when HE JUST GOT HERE? But also, how can this baby have been part of my life for a mere month? I mean really? I feel like we’ve known each other so much longer. All of our routines (which are not yet even routines, but rather constant responses from me to Baby Grady’s tyrannical demands) are so intertwined, it’s hard to imagine how my days were structured and paced before I took every cue from Baby Grady. I mean, I must have been able to get a drink, or a snack, or a dry shirt for goodness sake, just any old time I wanted! Spoiled rotten, I tell you. Thank goodness this baby came along to put me in my place.

Grady has spent the vast majority of his time so far eating, sleeping, and growing more baby. In the past week or two, he has advanced to making eye contact and working out in his baby gym. Other favorite activities include standing and jumping with assistance and demanding that his people walk him about, possibly while also singing to him. But not tummy time. Tummy time is the worst, Grady will have you know. I think he’s smiled for real a few times, but these findings are not yet peer-reviewed.

How much Baby Grady weighs: 11 lbs, 10 oz
Size of Baby Grady’s clothes: mostly 3 month, some 3-6 month... the 0-3 are pretty much a thing of the past, save a few stretchy onesies (for layering, of course)
Number of diapers used so far: 280 375 (approximation) (just doing our part to fill those landfills) (we’re going to get going on the cloth soon...)
Number of bottles (of breastmilk) Baby Grady has consumed: one. (He seems totally fine with it, and we wanted to introduce it now, when his eating is well-established but he is not a curmudgeonly older baby so set in his ways that he refuses it. Also, I really wanted a glass of sparkling wine on Christmas Eve, and this allowed me to skip a few hours of feedings to ensure I was not getting my baby drunk. Getting your baby drunk is super-frowned-upon these days.)

Baby Grady’s eye color: still dark blue
Baby Grady’s hair color: brown trending to blond

Baby Grady’s favorite: Josh Ritter and boobs
Baby Grady’s least favorite: the hours of 8:00 pm - 11:00 pm and hiccups

Words in Baby Grady’s vocabulary: just kidding, he’s a month old!

Baby's wardrobe #12: Hello, I'm new here

Baby Grady is filling out his stylish 3-6 month onesie from Auntie Sarah J. Such a chunk-wagon:

Frog Baby

The thing about parenting (because there’s just one thing, you know... simple stuff here) is that there is always something to worry about. The thing about me and Jasper is that we always worry about different things. And not just different, but opposite. It’s super fun! So, I fret that Grady might be too cold (probably because I am always cold, except when pregnant, which was just such a fantastic metabolic interlude in my normal reptilian biology). Meanwhile, Jasper frets that he is too hot (because he is a difficult man, I tell you what).

To keep things exciting, when we bathe Grady, we switch roles! I know; it’s so confusing. But suddenly I am the one fretting that Jasper is making the water too hot. I like the water hot, don’t get me wrong, but Grady is a baby! Don’t babies need more mildly warm water? Can you believe that two educated adults can’t sort this out? I think we are both right, just on opposite ends of the accepted range.

In other news, bath time is the one time Grady seems to love his nakedness. He lounges back in his cushy little bath-bed (awesome hand-me-down from Auntie Shana), and just chills like a frog. It’s pretty much the cutest, but I am not going to post naked baby pictures, because I think I might have a policy against that.

Finally I leave you with a quote from Jasper, spoken as I was gingerly airing out Grady’s important bits, post-bath (because I fret about excessive moisture intrusion on the baby):

“You know, you’re pretty much massaging a loaded weapon there.”

Indeed.

Friday Photo Frenzy

Now that he is a dad and all, Jasper works from home on Fridays. Because he is not normal, this means he actually spends the majority of the day poring over data (which looks like colorful lines and tells us things about the moon, if you were wondering). But when he took a break, he went on a photo-taking frenzy! You're welcome!

Blogging with Grady:

Upside-down nap:

This is almost the hilarious, loris-like expression he makes when I burp him, but this doesn't quite capture it:

Sometimes Baby Grady is very serious:

He actually hates tummy time. This photo is deceptive:

Me and mah baby:

Lounging on dad, resisting sleep. Shortly after this photo was taken, he was lulled to sleep by Rihanna. "Disturbia." Yeah, I have no idea.

Another tale of toplessness

So, today we had a dramatic spit-up event that took out the baby, the onesie, the jams, a blanket, the couch, and ALL of my clothes (two shirts, yoga pants, and even my undies!) I know; it was a pretty big deal. I took it as a sign from the universe that we needed more skin-to-skin time, me and Grady. So, I wiped us down and we retreated to the bed to snuggle beneath our down comforter. I let Grady wear a onesie, since that baby hates the nakedness. (And I thought all babies loved nakey time?)

Then I realized, I haven’t really done skin-to-skin since we got home from the hospital. Probably because it’s cold and we are far too stingy environmentally conscious to heat our home to a state of actual warmth. But have I ruined my baby with this appalling maternal oversight? Is he going to blame me when he is arrested for petty crimes? (please let them be petty, please let them be petty...) When, exactly, does the window of opportunity on skin-to-skin close? And what are we trying to accomplish again?

While we were there, we discovered Grady’s new favorite hobby. Standing! Or rather, pretending to stand, while I support most of his weight. Because he is only three weeks old and as such is inherently lazy. But he likes to bear a little of the weight. Then he springs his legs straight, as if to jump. And of course I fly him up into the air as though he has expert jumping skills. So that he will develop a completely delusional sense of his own strength and athletic ability. Because if it isn’t my job to do everything in my power to inflate this kid’s ego, then I don’t know what. (For my previous achievements in this particular parenting division, see Reese.)

Now, can we take a moment to appreciate the chunk-wagon that is my baby?

With Dad