HEELS

I see how it is. You're all HUGE Cat Power fans and now you hate me and won't talk to me anymore. I try to write one post that's not entirely about baby stuff and this is what I get- the silent treatment. Fine. I didn't need any of you anyway.

(sniffsniff)

Anyway, Cole can now bring his hands together in front of his body and stuff them in his mouth. He loooves his hands, almost as much as he loves the boobie. He can also lift his head up while on his belly and scan from side to side pretty well. For a second. Believe it or not, these are really cool things and he is just a bit ahead in his physical development. He's going to be a strong one. Sometimes he fights us and we're amazed at his strength and will. I mean, I punch him and he's unfazed. He punches me and I'm K.O.'d.

(What, you really think I punch my child? Shame on you. He has punched me though.)

I've noticed that a lot of oher blogging mums write sweet letters to their babies at each month to chronicle their development and their parent's love for them. Though I do honestly think this is a nice idea, it's not for me. Partly it's because I don't want to be a copycat (any more than I already am), but partly it's because I just don't think I could write such a thing. It would end up sounding too clinical and, instead of tear-up-your-eyes sweet, would be offputting. "This month the baby has developed an oral fixation, has been eating 32 ounces per day and gained a pound and a half." See what I mean? Not sweet.

So, Cole, If you are reading this when you are older, know this: Mommy is ALWAYS proud of you, ALWAYS notices the new and amazing things you do and will ALWAYS love you, no matter how lazy about posting it she becomes. Have no fear.

Love, Mom

What Is Your Battle Cry?

Rampaging across the hotel lobby, brandishing a thorned whip, cometh Danielle! And she gives a vengeful scream: "I'm going to spackle you with wasabi!"

Find out! Enter username: Are you a girl, or a guy ?

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I love wasabi.

SQUEEEE!
I HAVE A SECRET
CAN HARDLY STAND IT
CAN'T POST IT HERE FOR A LONG LONG TIME

(Just so you know, I'm actually singing the above to my own little tune.)(And now I'm doing a little seat-dance to it, too.)

Photo Dump!

These are super dark, but he's SO pretty. I'm going to work on them to try to get him a bit more visible.








Me and Cole on Christmas morning:



The dragon hat- a present from Titi (My Mom's Grandma name, pronounced T.T.):



The scary dragon boy:



Feeding the hungry beast:

So, you thought I was sexy before? Well, just wait! I'm wearing a sweater today because I have baby puke on my shirt and had nothing else to change into. Aren't I just yummy?

On a totally unrelated note, I was driving into work this morning, bitching to myself about the weather (and having puke on my shirt), when a Cat Power song came on the radio. I don't know if I've made myself clear before (HA!) but I really dislike Cat Power. This morning I was trying to figure out why.

I'll admit, a small part of it comes from me being a supreme contrarian. For example: when I lived in Eureka, CA, home of the hippie trustafarians ("rastas" who beg but actually have trust funds), I was totally anti hippie, anti organic, etc because I was slammed over the head with it daily and it pissed me off. Now that I live in (awful) Pitts-burgh, PA and can't find decent vegetarian food to save my life, I am seeking out organics and dreaming about living in California in a yurt. You get the picture- I'm never very mainstream, no matter what stream I'm splashing in. So the fact that Cat Power all of a sudden became so god damn popular is not a selling point for me.

But really, that's not all of why I dislike her. The biggest reason why is because she's a sad bastard poser. In my opinion, she would really love to be deep and emotionally charged, but she just isn't. Instead, she comes off as a pouty bitch. Who's an example of a good sad bastard female musician you might ask. Nina Simone.

The last part of why I dislike her is that her voice sucks. It's breathy and off-pitch enough times to make my ears twinge.

Take exception if you will. In fact, I'd love to hear why you like her, if you do. I'd give her another chance if I had a good enough reason to. But I'd probably still not like her. Because I'm just like that.

Some "Cole" for your stocking. Merry Christmas!

My little bug, sound alseep so Santa can come to our house:



Let's just hope Santa didn't see him doing this to his daddy earlier...

The beautiful view from our backyard tonight...



The beautiful view inside...





The boy loves his bathtime! Can you see what a chubble-bubble he's becoming? I just love it.

Cole weighed in at a healthy 9 lbs, 2 oz last night. And that's after a pee and poop blowout. That means he gained 11 oz in 7 days. That's my boy!

I'm an atheist (more or less) but I love christmas. Is there something wrong with that? I'm also quite ashamed to admit that I think certain christmas songs are among some of the prettiest songs out there, even if they are religious. I look forward to being able to sing them each year (there are some christmas songs that I think should be outlawed!). They have lovely harmonies and nice sentiments about being good to each other, hope and love. I don't want to hear them all year round, but I do enjoy them at this time.

Christmas season this year, though, has so far been fairly spiritless. I like the idea of "baby's first christmas", but he's honestly too young to get it. He thinks the lights are interesting. Not being able to be around family, we are going to miss the excitment and anticipation of christmas eve. Not being able to look forward to that has left me rather unexcited. I haven't even played my Bing Crosby record (yes, an actual record album).

Now that I think back on it, christmas eve was always my favorite part of the whole christmas thing. My sister and I would get refrigerator boxes and we would create little forts with lighting and cozy blankets and books inside. We LOVED the forts. This was how we spent christmas eve night. After drinking eggnog and staring at the beautiful tree until bedtime, we would climb into our forts and read and talk for hours. We usually slept about 3 hours, max. I would think about the presents I had gotten for my family and imagine their reactions- always positively ecstatic. The excitment would make me want to hurl, but in a good way somehow. There was a magic to that night that has never quite been equaled by other experiences and doesn't happen anymore. It was always so much better than christmas day because on christmas eve all of christmas' potential was still there. There were no disappointing socks on christmas eve.

I don't expect to quite feel this again, but to be able to be with my whole family and to see the excitment in my nephew and nieces would get me closer than I've felt in a long time. I guess I'll have to be satisfied with thinking about the next christmas we will all get to be together. Maybe next year.

Intelligent Design tossed out on its ass!

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/10545387/

All I can say is... YIPEE!

I just hope it sticks.

OH, the sublime evilness of chocolate truffles! Bitter, powdered cocoa on the outside; creamy, silky, dark ganache on the inside. So simple. So delicious. So bad to eat so many! I'll never fit into my pre-pregnancy skinny pants again this way!

So here's what I've been avoiding talking about: We had to put Cole on formula supplements. Why am I avoiding it? Because I feel like a failure as a mother and a woman. You see, Cole lost weight. He lost 7 ounces in a time when he should have gained 7 ounces; a time when I was breastfeeding like mad ALL DAY LONG. So it's my fault. My boobs are broken I guess. Anyway, I got scared and decided that it was worth going to formula for a bit to see if we could get his weight back up.

We started with a regular formula, but he vomited it all back up quite calmly and efficiently. Now we are using a hypoallergenic formula that costs twice as much but it seems to be doing the trick. We have a weigh in at the pedi-ass-trician today to see how he's coming along. If his clothes and cheeks are any indication, he's been gaining quite nicely.

So why do I feel so bad?

For one thing, I really like breastfeeding. I like the intimacy as well as the health benefits it affords us both. I don't want to give up breastfeeding- and I won't- but bottle feeding does have its bonuses for the tired and lazy people his parents are, slowly but surely, becoming. He also just seems more satisfied after a bottle feeding. He's happier for longer. Doesn't seem so bad, huh?

Except that the first ingredient in the formula is corn syrup solids. I might as well be filling his bottle with Dr. Pepper and red licorice sticks (sorry- those just sound really good to me right now- major sugar craving!). It just doesn't seem healthy and I really wanted to give him the best start possible. Formula just isn't as good for babies. Plus, the spit up. Oh jeez, the spit up! Every time we burp him stuff comes up. That almost never happens with the boob. And the spit up STINKS! The formula smells AWFUL. I used to love to stick my nose into the velvety wrinkles of his cute little neck and just breathe him in, but now he smells so bad it gives me a headache. I have to give him a bath if I really want to cuddle (okay, I'm exaggerating a tiny bit- I still cuddle his skinny butt off, no matter what).

I just hate formula!

But, I hate starving my baby more.

I have the name of a new pediatric group that stresses their commitment to breastfeeding so I think I'll be giving them a call. Maybe I've just been doing something wrong and it'll be really easy to fix. I'm really dedicated to moving back to all breastmilk, even if it has to still be given in a bottle. Maybe they can recommend a psychiatrist to help me get rid of my horrible feelings of guilt and inadequacy.

I'm back at work today and, OH MY GOODNESS, it has to be one of the hardest days ever. I'm telling myself that I'm handling it really well because I didn't cry, but really I'm falling apart on the inside. Not to mention that my boobs really, really hurt. I didn't get to pump at all from 7:30 until 1:30!! That's a HUGE amount of time. Even when I did get to pump, it wasn't really enough. I'm sure this will get easier with time, but right now I just feel like quitting my job and going on welfare. Not an option.

People have been welcoming, though. I'm not sure how much more forced enthusiasm I can take when they ask to see pictures, but at least they're trying I suppose.

I'll get back into the swing of things and be able to regale you all with the odd things I think about once again- just give me some time.

Oh, and John makes the most wonderful Mr. Mom.

First time in the snow for our little elf:

Cole's baby acne is clearing up so the pictures will get better and better. In the meantime, here are a few recent.

One of my favorite Thanksgiving pics:



My boys:



Handsome little man:



The camera is never fast enough to catch his smiles at their cutest:





This toy amused him for an amazing amount of time!:



Typing with one hand is just more than I can handle at the moment. I promise a proper update soon.