The Next Food Network Star

It should come as no surprise that I have been spending a lot of time watching TV. I really try not to since I am convinced that it will somehow affect CityBaby's intellectual development. But I figure when I am feeding him it's not like either of us can do anything else so, inevitably the TV is on. And it is usually tuned in to the Food Network . Why? Because regardless of what is on, I can always watch the Food Network. There is always something that grabs my attention. I have noticed lately that while I am feeding him, CityBaby will turn eyes only towards the TV to watch what is on. I have also noticed that the Food Challenges bore him, Rachael Ray is intriguing to him but he can't quite put his finger on it (he must get this from his mother) and Ingrid Hoffman just outright amuses him. I shared this with CityCrab who announced that he would be more than happy if we were cultivating the Next Food Network star. This way we could be assured that we would always have our own chef, something we have long desired.

A Day Late and A Dollar Short

I have heard this saying and I am not sure of it's origin, And, until very recently, I didn't really know what it meant. But now I do. It seems as though I am always a day late and a dollar short lately. Take for example voicemail on my home phone. I'm calling people back whom I have already talked to. Or the large list of thank you notes I have to write. Not to mention the pile of written thank you notes sitting on my desk unstamped. Or the bills stacked up along side them. And all the unread magazines & books collecting dust throughout my house. I don't think the largest memo pad in the world could help me out of this mess. So, for now I'll just get really comfortable being late and saving up my dollars. Gotta cut this short and tend to my screaming baby......

What Is My Mom Quotient?

Now that I am 2.5 weeks into this Mom gig, I was doing a self-assessment the other day. I do come from the corporate world and it's not like I ordered a 360 or anything. I was trying to determine how I rate on the Mom scale. I spent my whole pregnancy reading. Reading about the pregnancy, what to eat, what not to eat, what to avoid, how to sleep, etc. I spent half of my doctor's appts asking ridiculous questions. Thankfully, my physician indulged me. The other half of my pregnancy I spent reading about raising a child. Early development, age appropriate toys, breastfeeding, stimulation, how to write the preschool essay..... And then, BAM, one day your water breaks and you have a baby. A crying, sometimes whaling, baby. And just like the SATs all over again, everything I read and heard flies out the window. I actually took notes on a legal pad in the hospital. That's right - when the lactation consultant told me how to breastfeed I had to interrupt her to tell her to slow down so I could write it all down. So what kind of mother does this make me? I can tell you this: after all the reading I did and preparing myself for how to effectively raise this child, I have pretty much broken every rule. Breastfeeding? We had to supplement with formula in the hospital due to a health issue and we fed CityBaby right from the bottle. Pacifier in the first weeks? Yep - cranky, crying CityBaby gets that thing shoved in his mouth when he just looks like he is going to cry (and it works!) Then I realized, there are no rules. I feed him 4oz every 4 hours and you know what? It works. He sleeps in between, he's happy when he's awake, I read & sing to him and at 2.5 weeks old he sleeps 6 hours a night. So, I must be doing something right. Back to my quotient. On the popular vote, I would likely score low but I am going to give myself high marks. I've made up my own rules.

Generations

I've been doing a lot of thinking about generations lately. My son's bris or ceremonial circumcision (more on this later) took place yesterday. As usual, my father made us pose for all kinds of pictures. Me & my mother, me & my brother, my brother, mother & me, our spouses, our kids, our dry cleaner....you get the idea. Then he requested a generation photo and I realized on my mother's side, we have 4 generations alive. My grandmother, Mama Ruth, as everyone calls her, my mother, me & now, my son. It's amazing to think that we currently span 90 years. And, for the record, I know Mama Ruth would be absolutely appalled that I just told everyone her age, especially after all that plastic surgery to preserve herself, but I think I can get away with this. After all, she is 90 years old - she thinks a computer is a fancy calculator. So, why are generations so important? For me, it is a constant reminder of the journey my family has taken, it is entertaining to hear Mama Ruth tell stories about the history of our family and how they made their way in this country and it is special to know that my son will someday hear these stories. We have been making an effort to record Mama Ruth, this is a personal goal of my husband's as family factotum, so that someday we'll be able to enjoy her stories again and again. And, it is my hope that we will always have 4 generations alive. I'm pretty optimistic since it's apparent that we have good genes. As a tribute, here's a photo of Mama Ruth.

A New Journey

Nine days ago, I entered motherhood for the first time. I am referring to it as my new job although it will just be added to all my current jobs but take first priority. I have been preparing myself for this role for the past 9 months. In fact, I think I have prepared myself for the worst. I had heard all the horror stories and just assumed that I would have war stories of my own that were just as bad to share. The last week has been trying. I didn't have the easiest of deliveries and both my baby and I encountered some minor complications. Then there's the insurance incident where I was momentarily being kicked out of the hospital. But through it all there has been this sense of calm. I know not every day will be good and I'll probably never sleep through the night again. I know that I'll always worry whether I am with him or not and that I'll cry just as hard when I drop him off for college as I did when he entered this world. But, when I hold him and comfort him from crying or listen to him coo, I have a sense of peace. And, so my new journey begins.