Sunday, January 28, 2007

Food


You want to talk about a boring post that's only intended to help Dad keep track of the kid's development? Here's one about her eating habits! I'll start, however, with a comment on lots of the baby food advice that you find in books and on the Internet.
First, this advice reflects very strong, and often unreasonable, opinions. "You cannot feed your baby store-bought yogurt! Make your own!" Yeah, right. We try to keep things organic for the kid as much as possible, but many of the books seem to imply that you should be growing all of your kid's food yourself. We've got better things to do, and Margaret doesn't have patience for carrots to grow in our backyard. Second, there are all these "restrictions" on what foods you can feed them. "Introduce each food one at a time, and wait at least a week before introducing anything new to note whether any negative reactions arise." What a drag. Perhaps we've been lucky that Margaret has never exhibited any negative food reactions despite our failure to carefully control the introduction of each new food. But I bet that, rather than being the rule, the types of food reactions that these books warn about are the exception. So I'd propose that it's easier, tastier and more fun to introduce foods as you see fit. Then, only when you find a negative reaction, you can start trying to sort out the source. It might be tough at that point, but I conjecture that negative reactions are rare enough that it won't become relevant in most cases. At least it hasn't for us. Admittedly, this is a sample size of one, and we haven't fed her certain things like nuts that you read lots of warnings about.

Margaret's first meal was September 14. That first meal was rice cereal mixed with milk. She was perplexed by the first spoonful, which quickly led to a meltdown after a few more bites. After enlisting Maddie to calm her down, we managed to get through that first meal without further incident, although most of the food ended up going down her face onto her bib.

Since then, she's been a little champ. She quickly learned the drill (open up, here it comes!) and hadn't been picky at all. Most meals involve a grain cereal mixed with formula milk along with some sort of fruit or vegetable. Almost all of her food has been homemade as I've been steaming various things which I then puree and freeze for future consumption. We've tried to stick with organic veggies and fruits as much as we can, but that hasn't always been possible.

What does Dad cook for Margaret?

The veggie list includes
- Carrots
- Peas
- Parsnips (parsnips? who ever eats parsnips?)
- Sweet potatoes
- Butternut squash
- Avocado (really bland, but mix it up and it seems to be ok)

The fruit list includes
- Mangoes
- Peaches
- Raspberries mixed in
- Applesauce
- Pineapple and passionfruit mixed in
- Bananas (not her favorite, just like her mom, which is a shame since they're the perfect food)

We've also started on some finger foods including the absurdly over-priced Gerber Graduate Finger Foods and the old standby, Cheerios. I had actually forgotten how much I like Cheerios, so I'll munch on them along with her. These finger foods are great since they take so much concentration to eat that we often forget why we're fussing when trying to scoop them up. Margaret also tends to grab too many Cheerios at one time, so she'll later "discover" some forgotten ones in her hand that she picked up earlier and forgot to eat.

Finally, we've recently introduced cottage cheese and yogurt which have been hits. We got some baby yogurt, called yobaby, which turns out to be sweet and flavored enough that I like it. Since she doesn't need so much sugar at this point, we've tried to switch to plain yogurt, but it's surprisingly difficult to find plain yogurt in small containers that isn't no fat.

There's a temptation to introduce complex foods. A friend of ours from lamaze talked about how she was excited about introducing so many foods to her kid, but had to take her time to do so. I completely understand how she feels. Curry! Even garlic! Such exciting flavors! But as our pediatrician pointed out, their palates are so undeveloped that anything seems interesting and flavorful. No need to overdo it at this point. Instead, we go crazy by mixing peas and parsnips. Yikes!

Sunday, January 21, 2007

Margaret and Maddie

Not much has been happening lately. Margaret's working on standing (4 seconds is probably her record at this point) and she's starting to crawl faster ever day, but nothing too exciting. (The women at daycare keep saying "She's moving so much so early which always means that she's getting out of the way for another one!") Since I have to keep posting to keep interest in the blog, I figure that I'll write a ruminative post about Margaret's relationship with Maddie, the dog. This will probably be pretty boring, but that's what you get with a rambling post about a kid and her dog.


Margaret loves Maddie. It's a bit difficult to convey exactly how much Margaret likes the dog, but Maddie is one of Margaret's favorite things in the whole world. In fact, Margaret hasn't really been able to express preferences about much, but it's quite clear that she thinks Maddie is incredibly entertaining.

This has been the case since Margaret was just a few months old. Maddie was probably one of the first things that Margaret registered, even before she recognized who Mama or Dada were. She probably knew us before she knew Maddie, but the enthusiasm of any response was quite different for the dog. Early on, "Where's Maddie?" led to a swiveling of the head that clearly indicated that Margaret was looking for something particular. That phrase was probably the first that elicited an actual response and still gets a more consistent reaction than "Where's Mama?", not to mention the real laggard "Where's Dada?" In fact, I've always speculated that "Maddie" will likely be one of Margaret's first words, if not the first.

Even better, Maddie has always been a major panacea for all that ails us. Margaret's fussy after waking up from a nap? "Where's Maddie?" Margaret's having problems eating during dinner? "Where's Maddie?" The same trick works when she's resisting a diaper or experiencing the general existential angst that seems to afflict babies (i.e. moaning and groaning for no particular reason.) Maddie's role as a distraction and source of entertainment has been almost limitless.

Maddie's feelings towards Margaret are probably quite different. Early on, Maddie wasn't very interested in Margaret. On the advice of some nurses, I took home one of Margaret's stocking hats from the hospital to introduce her scent to Maddie, but the dog didn't even give it so much as a cursory smell. When Margaret came home from the hospital, the dog still wasn't very interested in her, but there was a definite, albeit hard to describe, shift in Maddie's behavior. She started spending more time on the periphery of a room and didn't try to insert herself in events as much as she once had. Relative to most dogs, she still gets lots of attention. Margaret and I often take her out to play ball early in the morning while Mom gets ready for work. And then we take her out after getting home while waiting for Mom to get home. In the first few months of daycare, that latter walk was very important since it helped keep Margaret quiet until a more competent caretaker could relieve Dada. Not only does Margaret have fun playing with Maddie, but watching the world and the other dogs is a good way to pass the time while Dada talks with all of the other dog owners. Incidentally, many of the other dog owners probably don't know my name, but they all know Maddie and Margaret.

A few recent developments have affected Maddie's interaction with Margaret. First, Margaret is increasingly mobile. Unlike some dogs who let kids climb all over them, Maddie has always scooted away whenever Margaret makes the least attempt to touch or grab her. Since Margaret does tend to yank when she latches on to Maddie's fur, that reaction is understandable. But now that Margaret's moving around more, Maddie has to be a bit faster in her escapes. Margaret will never catch Maddie, but incremental improvements in the baby's mobility have necessitated more vigilance by the dog.

On a positive note from Maddie's point of view, Margaret's forays into solid foods have opened up new possibilities for food. Maddie has always been a quick dog, and she rapidly learned to station herself under highchairs whenever we visit the Sterns in Philly. The same position is now becoming standard here, particularly as Margaret has started to eat things like Cheerios which are easily dropped by little fingers. Unlike the older Stern kids, Margaret has not learned that dropped food attracts the dog, but that's just a matter of time.

The third interesting development is that Margaret now tries to play with Maddie using some of Maddie's toys. There seems to be a clear understanding by both of them that some toys are dog toys and others are baby toys - Maddie never picks up Margaret's toys and Margaret rarely plays with Maddie's toys on her own. Instead, Margaret will pick up one of Maddie's balls (sometimes, but not often, putting it in her mouth) and wave it in front of the dog. This teasing leads to peals of laughter from Margaret as Maddie watches her expectantly. If Maddie takes it from her, that's even better. Even more recently, Margaret has started "tossing" the ball which really involves dropping it so that it rolls a foot or so. Maddie pounces on it which gets even more laughs from Margaret. It's clear that Maddie would still prefer to play with us, since she'll bring her toys back to us rather than the kid, but she's also increasingly willing to humor Margaret. And it's just a matter of time until they really learn to play with each other.

As a lazy parent, my dream would be for Maddie to become a real monitor of Margaret. Due to their work ethic and herding instinct, Border Collies have been known to keep babies and kids out of trouble. Since Maddie exhibits some obsessive tendencies, it's always possible that she'll start keeping track of Margaret. But I doubt it since she just doesn't display enough interest in the kid.

Snow day

Since we've spent the late afternoon watching the Bears try to win the NFC Championship for Chicago (as Margaret tries to get into all sorts of trouble - she seems to have a radar that directs her towards forbidden items - "No, don't crumple up those tax forms" or "Don't put the dog's toys, or the remote control, in your mouth," that sort of thing), it's fitting that today is the first day with snow this winter in DC. And, since this is the first snow of the season, it's also Margaret's first encounter with snow.

We've got a pretty good system for keeping Margaret warm in her stroller, not that we've needed it too much this winter since it has been so warm. We put her in a sweater and coat, pull on her mittens, strap on her silly pink hat (the sequence of the last two steps is important to keep her from trying to pull off her hat), and plop her in her BundleMe thing that covers her legs in the stroller. In the end, she looks pretty warm, and she seems very content to lie back and watch the world (or, better yet, the dogs in the neighborhood) from the resulting cocoon.

As the snow fell down around and on her, Margaret seemed to know that something unusual was happening, but there wasn't any monumental sense of recognition. She was just having a grand time grinning at us while watching Maddie chase the ball.One current subject of speculation is whether Margaret will inherit Abby's "bad circulation" or my tendency towards "running hot." Abby's hands invariably get cold regardless of how warm her gloves are, while I kick off the covers in the middle of the night no matter how cold it is. Since Margaret can't really communicate her comfort level at this point except in very primitive terms that could relate to anything, that's something that we'll have to sort out later.

In any case, we (at least those of us who could verbalize our opinion) eventually ended up getting pretty cold and headed in to watch the Bears game. And at this point, it looks like the Bears will pull it out. Go Bears! (Hope I don't jinx it.)


Thursday, January 18, 2007

A moment of transition

Margaret went to the doctor for her ninth month check-up yesterday. She is currently 29 inches tall and weighs 17 pounds 12 ounces (we'll start using the wall height tracker that we received as an Xmas present from Grandma Nancy and Grandpa Peter once she's a bit more stable in a standing position.) As a point of reference, she was 20 1/4 inches and 7 pounds 4 ounces when she was born. Apparently, her dimensions are a bit unusual. Her weight falls in the 25th percentile, but her height puts her in the 90th percentile (and her head diameter is in the 75th percentile.) I don't know what's up with that, but it confirms that we have a tall skinny baby. Or, as I referred to her when she was born, she's our little supermodel.

At this point, however, the main issue is that, based on her height, she's outgrown her infant car seat. This means a number of major life changes for all of us. First, we'll no longer be able to conveniently carry her into a store/restaurant/etc. in a car seat that nicely confines her since the next size up isn't detachable in the same way as her infant seat. No more sleeping through the grocery store in the car seat. Or snoozing during the easy transition from the car to the house. We'll soon face difficult and inevitable disruptions since Margaret appears to enjoy sleeping in the car. Second, we'll no longer be distracted by the bugs-on-board that reside on the carrying handle of the infant carseat. So we'll bid a tearful farewell to the bugs (and might try to hang them from handles in the car where, even if we can't reach them, they'll still help entertain us.)

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Testing.....

Mark has, perhaps foolishly, granted me permission to post to this blog. This is a test post to confirm that my post will actually appear. From time to time I may add my two cents, especially when Mark's view of events is skewed or just plain wrong.

Epidemic at day care

Today, there was a spate of runny, poopy diapers at day care. We received an email in the early afternoon which stated that half of the kids in the infant room had been stricken with diarrhea, suggesting some sort of communicable affliction. Two episodes warranted a courtesy call, while after three events, the kid needed to be taken home. I'd been unable to check either my voice mail or email before Abby called me about the event. We didn't know whether Margaret was in the ill category much less the "take home" classification, but I found out that she was in the latter group when I went over to check on her. Which made for an interesting walk home as I carried her in the Baby Bjorn. Every little rumble in the diaper area, which was right next to my stomach, literally made me jump even though I'd put her in two pairs of pants. In the end, we made it home without incident, and Margaret seems to be ok in general since, as the caretakers at daycare told us, she's still happy and busy, but she just went through two sets of clothes during the day.

You hear these horror stories about day care centers as incubators for germs. So far, we've been ok. Margaret has had a few colds which, since lots of snotty infants are in her room, may be partly due to her exposure to them, but nothing serious. This is our first instance of an "alarming" mass event, but it wasn't a big deal in the end. Admittedly, her daycare room was pretty pathetic when I picked her up, but it wasn't clear whether that was a function of lots of kids wandering around in diapers without pants (what's the point of putting on pants when you'll have to change another poopy diaper soon?) or kids with gastrointestinal distress. Margaret didn't seem to be in any real discomfort, and she appears to be recovering well at this point.

Sunday, January 14, 2007

Kid and dog tricks

Margaret has come up with a few new tricks in the last two weeks or so. First, she has learned to clap her hands. Initially, she would hold our hands and pull them together to clap them, something that she found very amusing. But now she has learned to "clap, clap, clap your hands."

She has also learned the appropriate response to the question "How big is Margaret?" - raise your arms and grin as your parents say "So big!"

She can also wave bye-bye, either with one hand or with both, which is sometimes accompanied by her babbling "bah-bah-bah-bah." She hasn't quite figured out the correct time to wave bye-bye since she generally does it for no apparent reason. Finally, she has started to dance which involves bouncing up and down and bobbing of the head. Doesn't last long, but when a Beatles tune kicks in, she starts bobbing for a few seconds. The occurrence of this trick is somewhat erratic, but it does seem to be related to music or at least someone asking her to dance. She's obviously not the skilled dancer that her cousin, Andrew, is, but we're just getting started.

She's pretty good at doing these tricks when we're at home. But she's much less inclined to do them in public. We got dim sum with some friends on Saturday and went to brunch with Joe and Siobhan from Chicago on Sunday and, in both cases, she wouldn't show off at all. Instead, she'd look at me with a blank, innocent expression as if to ask "What? Am I supposed to do something in response to your prompting?" Perhaps she was just being coy, but I think that she was having problems processing what was going on.

Which gets me to the purpose of this post - current differences in intelligence between Maddie and Margaret. At this point, I think that Maddie is smarter than Margaret. She's quicker at picking things up and retains things better. She also performs better since she'll roll over on command as much as I want, although it's debatable whether subservience is indicative of intelligence. Which is, perhaps, the entire problem with the intelligence of a dog.

When observing my nieces and nephew in Philly (and this is not intended as a comment on them), I've always theorized that Maddie, being a pretty smart dog, is smarter than most kids through the first year and a half or two. And I still think that's true on some level based on what I described above. But there are distinct differences in the nature of intelligence of a dog and a baby. Dogs learn things, but you never feel that there's a real "light bulb moment" at which point something clicks on a deeper level. Why am I rolling over? Only because my owner wants me to which makes him happy. With kids, on the other hand, you can watch them watch you and, occasionally, there's a comprehension that's somewhat deeper than you ever see with a dog. If that sounds hokey, then here's an example of how kids are completely different from dogs. Maddie looks at a mirror and there's nothing. No interest, no concept that she's looking at something special, and certainly no self awareness of any kind. With kids, it's completely different. As most kids are, Margaret has been fascinated with mirrors since she was only a few months old. And it's very clear that she recognizes others in the mirror and that she recognizes some baby, perhaps not herself, as well. This seems to indicate exactly what I was talking about earlier, namely the fact that there's a sense in which babies, even if they aren't as quick or trainable as dogs, possess a depth that a dog can never match.

Friday, January 12, 2007

A trip to the zoo

Today, Margaret and I went to the zoo for the first time after she took a nice long nap on my chest in the morning while I watched TV (she also had raspberries at breakfast - tart, it would appear - and applesauce at lunch, both for the first time.) It was a gray, drizzly day so the zoo was nearly empty. While we enjoyed the absence of crowds, we were wandering around under an umbrella all day, and some exhibits were closed for renovation since it's off-season.

I wouldn't rate this trip as a big success, although I and probably Margaret preferred it to sitting around the house all day (and she probably found it more interesting than a trip to an art museum.) Only a few animals caught Margaret's attention. Big animals, such as the elephants, did so, probably because it was easy for Margaret to register their presence. We watched a hippo try to bite a big exercise ball for a while, and it was fun to watch the elephants fiddle around in their pens. Margaret also liked a room of tamarins. They were chasing each other and bouncing all over the place which elicited a bunch of giggles from Margaret. We were lucky to catch them in action since, when we went back to see them again, they'd all climbed into a box and had gone to sleep. The meerkats were also a hit especially since one of them stood up against the glass right in front of us. Margaret found that pretty funny too. But she also spent a lot of time watching the other kids who would come over whenever an animal did something interesting (which, it seems to me, animals at the zoo do far less frequently than most visitors would like.) Apparently, other kids are pretty entertaining.

Margaret feel asleep in the Baby Bjorn (the use of which, along with Mom's absence, explains the lack of photos) between the big cats and the seals. She's getting pretty heavy to carry around for hours especially when she falls asleep since she becomes complete deadweight. She woke up to see the cheetahs and drank a bottle as we walked to the Metro stop.

We rode the Metro to and from the zoo with Margaret making googly eyes at other people on the train. On the way home, we stopped at Trader Joe's to get something for dinner and got a balloon while we were there. Margaret had a grand time as I bounced it off her on our walk home.

Thursday, January 11, 2007

A bunch of early baby photos

Before getting into any details, here are a bunch of photos from Margaret's early days in the hospital (click on the photos to enlarge them).....











Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Margaret's first days

The following is a (long) record of Margaret's birth and first days that I wrote shortly after she came home from the hospital. For the sake of completeness, she was born on April 3, 2006 weighing 7 pounds, 4 ounces with a length of 20 1/4 inches.


Friday, April 7

We finally got home from the hospital today. The whole week has been a whirlwind of new experiences with some highs and some lows. Mostly highs, but it can be pretty taxing to deal with this little person who is essentially unresponsive to all meaningful stimuli and who cannot communicate in any effective way. That's not exactly true since a newborn's scream is like no other sound. It tears right into you and is especially effective when the kid screws up her face and looks to be in immense pain. All of this while you're just changing her diaper. Or trying to calm her down at 4:00 in the morning during an extended meltdown. And we've had a few of those meltdowns over the last few nights.
Right now, Abby is upstairs with Margaret having a grand old time. The baby is alert and interactive, and Abby has her on a pillow and is playing with her. Her vision is much better than it was as she's able to focus on things for an extended period of time. They're having a nice afternoon of mother-daughter bonding.

But I'm getting ahead of myself, so I'll go back to the beginning of the week.....

We had scheduled a c-section about a week ahead of time, although we'd known for some time that the procedure was probably necessary. The night before going to the hospital, we were both nervous, but excited. The nerves were a combination of apprehension about the procedure and concern about the kid being ok along with general concern about the life change that was coming. We went to a Japanese place for dinner that had caught Abby's eye at some point and spent the meal talking about how that was likely our last opportunity for that type of outing for a while. The rest of the night is mostly a haze, but I recall drinking a few beers on our back patio while looking at the stars and calling various people for moral support as Abby watched Deperate Housewives on TV.

The next morning, we woke up feeling decidely unrested. I don't recall sleeping poorly, but I definitely felt a bit off that morning. We got to the hospital around 7:30 AM. Two nurses took us to a pre-op room where they got Abby dressed for the operation and hooked up all sorts of sensors. One of them was a heart monitor for the kid through which we could hear a little thump-thump-thump.

Everyone basically ignored me. The nurses made some small talk with Abby about our dog, but were pretty much all business. Abby's doctor, Dr. Burke, and the anesthesiologist stopped in to explain the basic timing of the procedure and, again, didn't even acknowledge my presence. Then around 8:30, they came and took Abby away.

I sat around the pre-op room putting on some blue clothes that they'd given me. Around 8:50, one of the nurses came to take me to the operating room. The walk over was a complete blur. All of the nurses we passed kept saying "congratulations" even though nothing had actually happened yet. The nurse who accompanied me asked a few small questions which, I recall, led to a brief discussion of our dog and her upcoming adjustments. She then took me to a door where I had to wait alone until they called me in.

The operating room was a confusing place. Abby was lying on the operating table with a blue sheet draped just above her belly. The anesthesiologist was behind the sheet with us while lots of other people mulled about in various parts of the room. I sat on a small stool near Abby's head. Her arms were spread, and I held her hand throughout the procedure while also stroking her head.

As the operation began, I recall two distinct events. First, "Ain't Wasting Time No More" by the Allman Brothers was playing on the radio. I remember thinking how much I like that song and the rest of Eat A Peach by the Allman Brothers. My next thought was that I wished they would change the station to Imus in the Morning so that we could at least listen to something interesting. Second, lots of action was occurring behind the sheet. What, exactly, was going on behind that screen? When would we know that something good, or bad, had actually happened.

Suddenly, Dr. Burke said, "We've got a girl" in a fairly level tone as he passed the baby back to some nurses behind him and across from Abby and me. I recall seeing this purple and white splotched thing appear on the heating pad surrounded by a bunch of nurses. Based on her appearance, my first reaction was, "What the heck is that? Is there something wrong with her?" My second reaction was, "A girl? How can it be a girl?" So many people had predicted a boy that I'd come to expect it. We had actually settled on a single boy's name, Nicholas Gustav, but had narrowed down girl's names to a set of about 5 or 6 combinations all of which had Margaret or Genevieve as the first name and a variety of different middle names.

I watched as the nurses sucked fluid out of the baby's mouth and nose and began wiping the goop off of her. At that point, she started wailing and pinking up. People like the anesthesiologist kept leaning into us and saying "Congratulations." Abby's pain medication wasn't working too well at that point, so neither of us were as excited as we could have been. Finally, they brought the baby over to me and finished the operation. They shifted Abby onto a gurney, and I suppose that a nurse took the baby away from me and put her in a rolling bassinet, but I don't really recall that happening. Nor do I recall leaving the operating room. It was all kind of a blur.

Next thing I remember was sitting in the post-op room (which had been the pre-op room when we started) holding the baby. Abby was still in a fair amount of pain, but I remember thinking that we needed to come up with a name. Margaret? Seems good to me. What about the middle name? For some reason, I latched onto Claire which was a name that we had on our short list, although we were even more unsure about middle names than we were about first names. On one level, it wasn't that she seemed like a Margaret, but on another level, she did. I’m not quite sure how I reached my decision with all the commotion and confusion, but I had definitely decided that Margaret Claire was the name for this baby.

Abby started feeling a little better. The baby was very mellow. She was a little squirmy and fussy, but I started letting her suck on my finger which made her happy. She was such a sucker that the nurses commented on it and said that we’d have no problems getting her to latch on, although they turned out to be a bit wrong in the end. One of the nurses came to give the baby her first bath which led to some serious screaming. I remember thinking that the nurse seemed overly concerned about making sure that we didn’t think that she was hurting the baby, but I had no concern about that. Talk about trauma – you’ve just been popped out of your warm home and someone starts fiddling with you all over. As they probably always do, the nurses clucked about her strong lungs.

Chuck (a friend of ours) had warned me that his wife was very upset that he got to hold their kid for so long before she was able to. Abby didn’t seem to be upset for that reason, but she was keen to hold her despite the pain. Eventually, I passed her over to Abby who seemed very happy. I wanted to talk about names, but it seemed like the nurses would never leave us alone for any extended period of time. Instead, they asked if Abby wanted to try to feed the baby. She tried to do so, but it wasn't clear whether there was any success.

They wheeled us back to a room in the maternity ward. I had to go downstairs to sign up for a room, so I made a few calls with rain spitting on me under a gray sky and a weird feeling of adrenaline running through me. I talked to Abby’s mom, who seemed excited, and left a message for my dad. Later, my mom told me a wonderful story about the result of that call. She had left on her cell phone at school since she was waiting for a call. All of her students knew that a call was coming about her prospective grandchild. So, when her phone finally rang, her kids got very excited. When they found out that it was a girl, they all cheered. They then cheered the next day when mom posted a photo of the baby on a computer screen that the students could then see.

We spent the next few hours decompressing in the maternity ward. Both of us held the baby who was very calm. The nurses kept coming and going, referring to “the baby” until I finally told them that her name was Margaret, something that Abby and I finalized at some point before getting to the maternity ward. They were all very pleased with the name, although they also liked to call her “blondie,” and seemed slightly surprised with our choice, a reaction that we got from a number of people in the hospital. Apparently, Margaret is a slightly old fashioned name, but not one that people find objectionable or too old fashioned. One of the nurses said, “That’s a lovely name. Don’t hear that one too much anymore” while one of the flower ladies, who were generally old, said “That’s my middle name.” I remember thinking that I was happy with the first name, but was waffling a little on the middle name. At that point, however, we’d already passed the news, and the name, onto enough people that there was no going back.

The next few days blended together. Flowers arrived, nurses came and went, and Abby moved from a liquid diet to solid foods. Abby couldn’t move her legs much, especially her right leg, so she was confined to her bed for a couple days. Abby slept in her bed, and I slept on a chair that pulled out into a mattress. No one who came into the room paid much attention to me unless I addressed a direct question to them. The baby would feed after which we would, following the suggestion of Abby’s doctor and various friends, send her to the nursery. The nurses would then bring her back periodically for a feeding. We kept trying to get Margaret to feed correctly with some help from the lactation consultants, but hadn’t quite gotten the hang of it. Abby was getting better at manipulating the baby, and the baby was getting better at getting on, but it was still tricky.

On Thursday night, we had to attend a discharge class. We were among the first to arrive and brought Margaret in her little bassinet. The nurse asked if she could use Margaret as a demonstration baby for the class. "Sure," we said as all of the other babies were left wailing outside of the classroom. I was sure that Margaret would start bellowing at some point during the class especially when the nurse started manhandling her to illustrate various things like bathing techniques. But Margaret was a perfect little trooper. She fussed a little bit, but generally was a good baby. It was a first instance of parental pride – "My kid is oh so good, especially when compared to those kids bawling in the hall." Right after we got back to our room, Margaret starting wailing like crazy for a long time, but at least she was good when it counted.

We were discharged the next day. It was gray and raining, and an elderly attendant held an umbrella for us as we loaded Margaret into the car. Margaret seemed unconcerned with everything around her, but we obviously had no idea what we were doing as we struggled with the car seat. The elderly woman with the umbrella gave me a sweet smile and a soft pat on the back, and we were on our way.

First post!!!

So this is the first post in our new family blog. As I'm writing this, Bush is giving his futile speech for the "new direction" in Iraq. Since that's too depressing and sober of a topic for this first entry, I'll instead pass along my goals for this blog.

First, it will force me to chronicle the events in our family, especially those associated with little Maggie Moo. Things happen so quickly that it's often hard to keep track of what new tricks she's learned, so this will help me record them. In fact, I'll probably waste some early entries going through her past milestones. When did she first smile? When did she first roll over or sit up? All that and more will be available to interested readers.

Second and related, this will help those select few who are actually interested in our lives (e.g. parents, grandparents, etc.) keep track of what we're doing. Sure, most of them will only be interested in the exploits of the kid, but that's ok.

So, welcome!