Business in the Front, Party in the Back.

My baby has a mullet.

Back to Work.

I go back to work this week: three days this week and three days next week, then back to full time. Of course, that's a misleading statement-- I've worked harder these last 10 weeks than I've ever worked before. There were days when "doing a little something for myself" meant taking a bathroom break, and nights when I thought lack of sleep would cause me to shrivel up like a salted slug. So in a sense, my cubicle will be a break from the constant mental vigilance I've learned to maintain for the past two and a half months. As busy as work will be, nobody will go hungry, or become a sociopath, or be left to wallow in their own filth if I don't write great direct mail copy. It'll also be nice to make my lunch choices based on criteria other than a) can I make it one-handed while holding a squirmy baby? and b) if I spill it on her head will it leave a permanent mark?

All these benefits will be pale comfort. I'm going to miss my baby, badly. And nobody at work will get my new joke, which kills here: it goes "CCHCHHHH! AGAAA!" But I'm very lucky that my mom has volunteered (or did I volunteer her?) to watch Nora for the next couple of months while I'm at work. It's a relief to know that she'll be in such good hands, even if she did refer to her granddaughter as "Laura" and "Norma" during the same conversation last week.

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In a couple of months, Nora will go into a great daycare with a wonderful woman who comes highly recommended. My daughter will learn how to be around other kids, and she'll get a ton of mental stimulation from being in a new environment. She'll be fine. I just hope for my own sake that it won't always seem like a cosmic injustice that, in order to take care of my daughter, I have to spend the majority of her waking hours apart from her.

Two Months and Thriving!

Nora had her two-month doctor's appointment on Monday, and she is, in the words of my completely objective pediatrician, "perfect." She weighs 12 lbs, 3 oz. She's in the 86th percentile for weight, the 92nd percentile for height, and the 67th percentile f0r head size. Why this doesn't indicate that she will grow up to be a pinheaded giantess, I'm not clear; but the doctor said all is wonderful and that she's thriving. I love our pediatrician-- she always makes me feel like I'm doing things right. Here's an actual exchange we had on Monday:

Me: Nora drools a lot, but she's too young to be teething. Is that anything to worry about?
Dr.: Nope, it just means she's well hydrated. Good job!

Thanks for more evidence of my baby's superiority! I've stopped wiping spit off her chin, just to show off.

Baxter the Phartophobe

We have two dogs, as I have mentioned, each with his or her own idiosyncracies: bossy old Lucy (in the black-and-white photo above) disdains walking on grass and obsessively chases light reflected off of any surface, while stinky omega dog Baxter (in the other picture, of course) steals tomatoes unrepentantly from my garden and is terrified of many things, including Lucy and the aforementioned light reflections (sunlight off a cd case, for example). Both dogs believe that the sound of toilet paper being torn off the roll portends a wonderful event, such as a walk or a car ride, and begin to dance in happy circles whenever they hear it.

Lucy communicates via nudges that sometimes escalate to body slams; Baxter groans while pushing his face across the carpet like a vacuum cleaner. Baxter also has the unsavory habit of trying to maneuver his derriere into the path of unsuspecting petters; he backs up more than a garbage truck. I'm embarrassed to say we've had to institute the command "No butthole!" I just hope the neighbors never happen past an open window while one of us is yelling it.

Given Baxter's appreciation for all things scatalogical, we were surprised to discover his absolute disgust at Nora's gastrointestinal sound effects. Granted, the volume and timbre of her indelicacies is disproportionate to her tiny size, but she is, after all, her father's daughter. Every booming, bassoon-like eruption from the direction of Nora's diaper sends Baxter running out of the room with his tail between his legs and his ears flat against his head. Let me clarify (as if I have to) that Baxter is plenty familiar with the sound of humans farting, and it's never bothered him before. Nora's crying and cooing don't provoke any reaction from the dogs anymore, so it's not a matter of Baxter forgetting she's there and being surprised when a noise issues from her. He is simply mortified by the baby passing gas.

I think that when it comes down to it, Baxter recognizes he is outmatched in the heinie department, and that his shame is what drives him from the room; that Nora is an alphafarter, if you will. I knew my girl was destined for greatness.

Foggy Day, Sunny Baby

Nora and I had a really lovely day yesterday, which included a baby massage, lots of smiles and gurgling, a snuggly nap, and the photos below. It was a foggy day, and I used the "available light" setting on the camera, which makes these pictures rather grainy but somehow I like the effect.

Merry Christmas!

Baby Blues

Why is it that when I dress Nora in anything other than pink or purple, people assume she is a boy? Do all the other colors belong to boys? I reject that notion, so until Nora grows some hair or develops secondary sex characteristics, I guess she'll just continue to confound strangers. (Please god let the hair grow in first.)

Other items that apparently belong only on boys' clothing:

• Doggies
• Sailboats
• Vehicles of all kinds
• Sports paraphernalia

Girls, on the other hand, get:

• Kitty cats
• Hearts
• Inappropriately suggestive mottoes such as "Little Flirt!" (always with the exclamation points)
• Phrases that tie self-worth to appearance ("Cutie Pie!" "Butterface!" etc.)

Pootermonkey Quiz: Based on the aforementioned examples suggesting that despite the conventions of the English language, every object has an inherent gender, on which gender's clothing do the following items belong?

• Weather phenomena
• Invertebrates
• Office supplies
• Quotations from Rick Springfield songs
• Fungi
• Rock candy
• Real estate