Impromptu play date at the playground

I have wonderfully active mom friends who are always up for a walk or a playdate or a trip to some NYC event. This afternoon, one mom texted a few of her mom friends, yours truly included, and invited us to join her daughter and her at a nearby playground. Belle and I joined. Fun ensued:

Belle enjoyed the swings, then did some standing. Belle showed off her new trick of bending down to pick something up off the ground from a standing position.

I feel so lucky to have such fun, active mom friends, most of whom have babies who were born within weeks of Belle. It was a lovely impromptu playground play date this afternoon! Belle was sufficiently worn-out and is not sleeping soundly.


Then the babies cooled off the sprinkler. After, they air-dried in the sun at their favorite standing spot (aren't naked babies the cutest?):

Great...in theory

I was discussing my impending return to full-time teaching with a mom friend who is returning to her full-time job on Monday, which happens to be her son's first birthday (incidentally, my return date is two days after Belle's first birthday). She said that the plan- take one year off to be with her son and then return to work full-time- sounded great in theory. But as the start date of her return to her job draws closer, she is increasingly concerned about leaving her son all day and balancing her career with motherhood.

"Great in theory." I couldn't agree more. One entire year seemed like a good amount of time to spend with a baby. Time to learn how to be a parent and get to know the baby; time for the infant to develop into a more-sturdy toddler and time to enjoy a good helping of "firsts." And after that year is up, it's time to return to work. Mom should resume building the career she started long before baby was a glimmer in her eye. After a year of spending 24 hours a day with baby, she should return to her profession which requires interacting with individuals taller than three-feet. Mom should enjoy the year-long mom-cation and then go back to earning her keep in the family; to working towards a pension and saving for retirement. One year is a long time to be home with baby. When the year ends, it's time to return to work.

In theory, yes. Exactly. A year is a great amount of time to be home with baby. Then why do I feel pangs of concern about returning to work right after Belle turns one?

I realize I am lucky that I am able to spend Belle's first year with her full-time. I had originally planned to return to work at the start of the school year's second semester when Belle was five-months old. When February 1 arrived, I appreciated that I didn't have to leave my infant, who could not sit up in her own, ate nothing but breast milk, and woke two or three time a night to eat, in someone else's care while I went to work. I appreciate that I am able to be home this year. I love every minute of being home with Belle (especially our morning snuggle-naps).

I am lucky in another way, too. I am lucky that I love my job. I rarely refer to it as my 'job' or as 'work'; I usually call it school. I teach at a phenomenal my school, where I work with impressively intelligent and enlightened colleagues and teach invested, blossoming young people. How many people really like their place of employment, colleagues and, well, clients? I am doing what I want to be doing; what I studied to do. I am returning to a job that I so enjoy in the fall. To the job I had before I was even a wife, let alone a mom. To the career I earned a Masters degree to pursue. To the building where I spent a great majority of my waking hours prior to Belle's birth.

Yup- great in theory. A year with Belle and then back to fulfilling job.

It's just that I have grown to love the job of mom, too. And I can't imagine giving all I gave to my teaching and then coming home to give all I give to Belle now. Not to mention the changes in my workload (I won't be teaching what I had previously taught due to schedule and course changes).

Research shows that children- even young babies- left in child care while both parents work full-time turn out just fine. I have friends who are successful and well-adjusted who spent most of their pre-kindergarten days in the care of an adult other than their parents. Children learn to socialize and share, and they learn to detach from a parent and thereby trust. When I visited day care centers, Belle nearly jumped out of my arms because she was so eager to play with the toys in the rooms and interact with the other babies.I am certain that Belle will be safe and even have fun at child care. But can the child care provider possibly love and care for Belle the way I do and can? Will she appreciate Belle and the time she is lucky enough to spend with her? But, OK, sure, Belle will be fine in day care next year. But what about me? Is there research to assure me that I'll be OK leaving Belle with another adult all day?

Every pre-Belle friend I have who is also a mother returned to work long before their child turned one. There is support (or perhaps pressure) for women to return to work after welcoming a baby that is unprecedented in previous generations. It's a different world for women; one in which they are expected to lead careers while raising children and running a family. It's a juggling act most women I know struggle with. Well, if my friends can do it, I can, too.

I know I'll be fine when the school year begins. I am confident that I'll adjust to the new schedule and learn to teach the new courses. I'm sure Belle will be fine in day care. She'll play, socialize and be safe and well-cared for. I'm sure the plan- great in theory- will be fine in practice. It's just that one year in theory feels like a blink of an eye in reality.

Belle is 10 months old today

What's for dinner?

Which is messier: feeding Belle or making Belle's food?

It's a tough call.

Now that Belle east three meals a day, I find myself asking, "what's for dinner?" frequently. Breakfast is always cereal mixed with some fruit (or lentils, because I didn't label the containers of the food I'd made and frozen and so I thawed what I thought was peaches but what turned out to be lentils). Lunch is yogurt or bread and cheese or egg-something, always with fruit and/or veggies. But dinner for some reason seems daunting.

So when I shopped for our meals last Friday, I picked up the larger size eggplant and the bigger container of tofu and I made extra brown rice for last week's dinner. Tonight, while Craig was at the Yankee game, I finally took the ingredients I'd been meaning to turn into food and did so. With an immersion blender. Which splattered all over (the kitchen and me).

Anyway, I was able to answer the question "what's for dinner" for Belle for a while: asparagus, tofu and potatoes; spinach, brown rice and tofu; chicken, eggplant and brown rice.

I wonder what Craig and I will have for dinner this week...

Jewish guilt

Jews are notorious for laying on the guilt, and Jewesses are known to be experts in the field of guilt ("How many Jewish grandmothers does it take to change a light bulb?" "None: 'It's OK...I'll sit in the dark'").

Is that why I feel so bad when I ask Craig to do more around the apartment and with Belle? Because I'm a Jewish mother and I think in terms of guilt? As I noted on Father's Day, Craig is great about pitching in and helping with Belle. But sometimes I need a break from Belle. And sometimes I don't have the time or energy to take care of the little things that drive me crazy around the apartment. And sometimes, I just need thirty more minutes of sleep.

This morning, for instance, I woke up with Belle at 5:15am after getting up with her twice between 7pm and her especially-early wake-up. She had been under the weather since Friday, and a sick baby means an exhausted mommy. So, I tossed "sleep training" out the window and went to her when she cried last night, and didn't make her wait until 6am to get up this morning as I usually do (as Craig says, the kitchen- me since I nurse her first thing in the morning- doesn't open until 6am). Anyway, after feeding, changing and playing with her, she and I dozed a bit, and then played some more. At 8:30am, exhausted from two days of caring for a recovering baby, I asked Craig to enjoy some Belle-time. Of course he was happy to get up and play with Belle, but I felt bad for asking. He's usually great about offering, so he must have been really tired to have slept so long. And he works full-time all week so he needs to rest on weekends. so I felt guilty when I crawled back into bed for 40 minutes.

I shouldn't, right? I work full-time being Belle's mom. And I don't get weekends off to rest and recuperate. And Craig was happy to play with Belle. Then why did I still feel guilty?

Damn Jewish guilt...

First kisses and delicious dirt: a wonderful day in Central Park

Belle kissed a boy today. Really she licked his cheek, but that's a kiss to a baby. There is a little boy who just turned one who seems to be intrigued by Belle. In music class this past Thursday, he crawled right up to her face and just sort of stared at her. It looked as if he was going to kiss her, but one-year-olds don't usually kiss. Well, today we were enjoying a wonderful outdoor first birthday party in Central Park and Belle and this young man were crawling around a picnic blanket together. Again, the little boy crawled right up to Belle's face. This time, Belle turned and licked his cheek. To a nine-month-old, a lick is a kiss. So, well, Belle had her first kiss today.

And then she discovered what was just beyond the picnic blanket: dirt and twigs and patches of grass. And they were all delicious! We wanted her to crawl and enjoy being outdoors, but keeping the twigs out of her mouth became an intense job. And with her hands covered in dirt, those Cherrios and blueberries apparently became a delectable taste treat. A little dirt never hurt anyone, right?

Happy birthday to little Sam! What a fun birthday party :)

Cereal as blush

This morning, I met my mom friends in Central Park five minutes late. On-time used be late to me, but now I am lucky if I get anywhere only five minutes after the meeting time.

Anyway, the walk was wonderful, as usual. After, we grabbed a cup of coffee, then three of walked half a mile to the grocery store. I shopped, then walked home. Juts before I got into the shower, I noticed that some of Belle's breakfast cereal has found its way onto my cheek. And had apparently been there since I fed her at 9am. Which was before the walk. And before the coffee break and the errands and the walk home. No one told me that I logged miles around the Upper West Side sporting infant food on my face like blush.

So, I guess this is the new mom me: I get places late with baby food on my face. Awesome.

On a related note, I neglected to label the purees I made for Belle and stored in our freezer. I figured I could tell what they were by looking at them. This morning, I defrosted what I thought was pureed peaches that I then mixed into her breakfast cereal (the same cereal that served as blush on my cheek all morning). It turned out that I had grabbed and defrosted lentils instead of peaches. Ooops. Lucky for me, Belle is not a food snob and enjoyed her lentil cereal as much as she usually enjoyed her fruiting cereal. My cheek also seemed to tolerate the lentil cereal well.

WPHS graduation

Tonight is the commencement for the 2011 graduates for White Plains High School. I am shocked that an entire school year has gone by. While I was learning how to be a mother, a new crop of freshmen entered high school. While I was making "mom friends" and taking Belle to yoga, pilates and music classes, playgroups and pediatrician appointments, a group of high schoolers completed their secondary education. How crazy that the school started and ended while I was on maternity leave! How quickly the time flew by...

Today's playgroup

Four babies, all within a few weeks of each other in age, play (moved from Central Park inside due to rain).

Funniest part of the playgroup? When Charlie, in an attempt to crawl on top of Belle, succeeded in "pantsing" her (that is, he pulled down her pants)- hilarious :)

Bouncy chair as growth chart

Belle at 3 months in her bouncy chair:



Belle at nine months in her bouncy chair:



My, how she has grown! That bouncy chair remains the only way I can shower when Belle is awake. What will I do when she fully outgrows it? Stink, I suppose :)

"But you don't have to take my word for it..."

Yes, I am a doting mother. I think Belle's smile lights up the day more brightly than the sun. But you don't have to take my word for it (as LeVar Burton used to say on Reading Rainbow):

Craig's 91 year old grandmother had back surgery and she is now in a rehabilitation center re-learning how to walk. On her road to recovery, she's enjoyed wonderful visits from her three children, eight grandchildren, and even a few of her eight great-grandchildren. Many of us have brought her pictures to help make her smile.

A recent report from rehab brings this update:

"Just spoke to Grandma...It appears that...the only photo being displayed is the new framed picture of Belle, which mom loves. 'It's the picture that keeps me going.'"

Belle's smile is a special one, but you don't have to take my word for it. Just ask one of her three great-grandmothers!

A few of my favorite things...

My favorite part about...

...my morning is my snuggle/sleep nap with Belle. She falls to sleep so peacefully when we are snuggling, and the 60-90 minute nap is so relaxing. The people who warn about co-napping being a bad habit are the same people who warn me about how quickly the time goes and how she'll be off to kindergarten/college/married before I know it. I love cuddling, napping, watching her nap, and I feel so lucky to have mornings, just the two of us, when I can enjoy.

...nursing is how Belle sprawls out on my lap so comfortably and so trusting, and then looks up at me with a huge smile when she's satiated. It makes all those months struggling to learn to breastfeed and those visits with and call to lactation consultants worth it. Indeed Belle makes challenges (sleepless nights, breast infections from nursing) somehow seem worth it.

...this new crawling stage is that it shows such opinion in Belle. If she is discontent where I put her down in a room, she moves to be where she wants to be (which tends to be where I don't want for her to be, like near the sharp-edged coffee table or near the power-cords and outlets). I know I say I love every stage when Belle's in it, but this crawling stage is a wonderfully exciting glimpse into Belle as decision-maker. Though dangerous and exhausting (since out apartment is not child-proofed, I basically spend Belle's play-time chasing her around ensuring that she remains safe while exploring), it's a joy to watch Belle look around a room and make a decision where she wants to take herself.

...playtime is that it is basically make-a-mess-time. After the stackable cups are strewn about the living room, the game is over. When the stacked rings are in every corner of the play area, Belle moves onto a new toy. When the foot-nigh tower of blocks has been toppled, the blocks become old news. It is so much fun to watch Belle make a playful mess of her play area, and then crawl away from it, satisfied with her destruction. The next phase is teaching her the joys of stacking and building so she can make neat, but that is developmentally a few stages away from mess-making (it's far easier to toss around plastic shapes than to get them through their respective holes into the bucket).

...Belle's smile is how much it lights up the world. Last week when my parents and grandmother were visiting, we five sat on a bench on Riverside Drive and watched the people walk by. Belle smiled and cooed and made friends with many of the strangers on the street. One woman told us that Belle's smile made her day. I feel the same way, but it's somehow more meaningful coming from a complete stranger. I can scarcely go to store, ride an elevator, walk down the street without Belle making a friend with her innocent, genuine smile and her sweet-sounding coos. Belle is quite a friendly baby, but her smiles are priceless.

A fun visit

My brother and sister-in-law visited today en route home to DC from a long weekend in CT.  Belle showed off her crawling, standing, and smiles to the delight of her aunt and uncle.

At the playground

Today we ran into Belle's friend Ita and her mom at a playground.  That is when I learned that there is more to the playground than the swings!  Usually when I bring Belle to the playground, I put her in the swing and then she and I sit on a bench and watch the other children run around.  She loves watching the older kids play.  We started doing some walking (when I hold her hands and she takes a few tentative steps) and crawling at the playground, but we mostly played the role of park spectators.

But my friend showed me all the places where our nearly-ten-month-olds are able to stand and hold on and "cruise" (the tern used to describe a baby who is pre-walking so moves by holding onto things, like the couch or a chair).  Belle and Ita did some wonderfully stimulating (and apparently exhausting judging by tonight's 6:30pm bedtime) standing, cruising, crawling and park spectating   

Gym babysitting

The gym to which I belong offers babysitting at a nominal fee during certain hours of the day. Since today was not a regular walking day, I decided to try to the gym. As luck would have it, five children were leaving the babysitting room when we entered so Belle had the room (and the care-taker) all to herself. I left to use a cardio machine and Belle didn't even notice my departure (isn't this the age when there is supposed to be some separation anxiety? So far, Belle only fusses for Mommy when she is tired; otherwise, she is happy with anyone). I watched my phone for a frantic call from the babysitting room, which was really only about 50 yards from my elliptical machine, but no such call came. So, I moved and sweat and enjoyed a guilty pleasure- Millionaire Matchmaker on Bravo (I would love to be a professional matchmaker!).

When I was finished working out, I returned to the babysitting room to find one of the gym's personal trainers watching Belle and the gym's babysitter playing. He told me my baby was adorable (how wonderful to hear compliments about Belle from strangers). Anyway, Belle was happy to see me upon my return, but had a great report from the babysitter- no fussing at all! So, when I can get to the gym during babysitting hours, I see that Belle is happy to be left to play. It makes me feel more confident going into next school year, when I plan to return to work and leave Belle with another caregiver, that Belle will be just fine.

Bathtime

Now that she can sit up in a stable manner, Belle loves bathtime. She gets to play with her rubber ducky and splash around. She'll be doing the backstroke in the bathtub in no time.

New skills

Belle can clap her hands. She can pick up an object as small as a Cherrio and put it into her mouth. She is capable of sleeping straight through from 6:45pm until 5:20am, though she has only demonstrated so twice in her life. She can crawl, pull herself to a standing position, and even take a few supported steps.

It seems that her abilities are developing quickly these days.

My First Father's Day

In honor of Father's Day, we had some milestones in the house. Friday night, Belle decided to sleep through the night for the first time. We were staying at my parents' house for the weekend, and when I woke up at 630 am, Seren told me that Belle hadn't woken up all night. I was very happy. Ironically, Seren woke up at 4am and was worried because Belle hadn't had her night feeding. I remember my mom telling me that the first night that Belle sleeps through the night, I will wake up worried. Well, I didn't wake up worried, but Seren did. Thankfully, Belle had just reached a milestone. She repeated the feat on Saturday night, which was nice because Seren and I went to bed at 1am after a wedding.

I woke up at 630 Sunday morning and joined Belle and Seren playing in my parents' den. We played a little and then Seren and Belle gave me my cards. These were not the first cards that I received. On Friday, my old Judge gave me my first Father's Day card. These were the first from my wife and daughter. They were both sweet, cute and heartfelt, and, as you can imagine, I loved getting both of them. My gift came in two parts. I received two professionally-done photographs of Belle - one for home and one for the office. The office one is my favorite kind of picture of Belle. Seren is holding Belle up as she stands. Seren is only visible from the toes to her knees and a cute Belle is smiling as her mother holds her up. This was a pose that done previously and I loved that picture (though Seren wasn't as big of a fan because she hadn't had a pedicure before hand).

After I received my cards, Seren went back to sleep, while Grandpa Richard and I played with Belle. When nap time came, I brought Belle up to sleep with her mother (her mother's favorite part of the day, bar none). I went for a run, then came home and took Belle for a walk around West Birchwood so that Seren could sleep.

Soon, we got our acts together and started our day. We visited Grandma Ann who always loves company that comes in two-foot size (as well as company that is bigger than five feet). From there, we went to Aunt Wendy's house and celebrated with my mom's family. It was great to spend the day with all my maternal family, celebrating an engagement and seeing cousins Noah and Dylan, as well as the rest of the troops. For various reasons, it was an emotional day for me, but a great day.

Fatherhood has certainly changed my life. It has been challenging and I could most definitely use more sleep. But seeing Belle's smile lights up a room, there is no greater feeling in the world. I could live on that alone.

My Grandma Ann says that I was delicious as a baby (I apparently had huge thighs). I never understood it. Now I do. Belle is a delicious baby who brings me, and most people she sees, endless joy. She's a great kid who makes fatherhood incredibly rewarding.

And my partner-in-crime is pretty good too. Without her, Belle and I would probably be stuck in the fetal position crying. Thank you Seren.

Swimming swimming in the swimming pool

Happy fathers day from aunt wendys pool.

Happy grandfather's day!

Bathing Belle

Bathing Belle

During

and after


Incidentally, my broken camera is now fixed, and my parents visited this week. This explains the sudden influx of pictures after nearly two weeks of none.

Working hard in her office

We refer to the ExcerSaucer as Belle's office because she is focused and busy when she's playing in it.  Here, she's working very hard at the cell phone attached to its holder.
She's naked because we had just got caught in a torrential rain storm so her clothes are drying.  Anyway, babies are cutest when naked. That phenomenon ends at age two.

NYC's most considerate street performers

On the subway today with Belle, a barber shop trio singing for tips jumped into our subway car. Before they began their serenade (a beautiful rendition of "This Little Light of Mine"), the leader of the group asked me if the baby was sleeping.

I gave the guy a dollar for being so considerate as to avoid potentially waking a sleeping baby. And Belle enjoyed the song very much.

A tribute to Craig on his first Father's Day

Craig is in some ways a typical dad. He riles Belle up with tickles, tosses her in the air, and can't wait until she is old enough for him to rough-house with her. He complains about poopy diapers but changes them when he has to, and he can't seem to buy her enough toys (he would spoil her rotten if he could). In most other ways, though, Craig is head and shoulders above the typical dad. He bought and reads the books on parenting, he seeks advice from other parents, and he has an opinion about Belle's wardrobe (which speaks more to Craig being a fledgling fashionista). Ultimately, Craig is a great father and a wonderful parenting partner.

I read ans shared with Craig an article in a parenting magazine by a man who wrote a book for men becoming fathers. The author argued that if women included men more in the parenting process, there would be no need for such a book. Craig disagreed with this, nearly to the point of being offended. To Craig, it's not up to me as the mother to invite Craig to be involved in parenting. Craig is co-pilot; it is his responsibility to involve himself in all things related to his child. And Craig truly has involved himself in Belle's life. He joined me at all but one prenatal doctor visit and held my hand (and bag) at each appointment. He read What to Expect When You're Expecting, What to Expect the First Year, books and notes on sleep training, and he further researches answers to his questions online. Defying the stereotype about a mother's nesting instinct, Craig was the driving force behind our crib and stroller shopping. He read up on the best places to shop and made sure we built a thorough registry before Belle arrived.

While biologically and practically, most of the day-to-day Belle-duties fall on me, the stay-at-home-mom, Craig makes a huge effort to be as involved as he can be. He, for instance, missed only one bath night before Belle could sit up on her own in the tub (this is an especially impressive feat since he at the time worked over 60 miles away from our home). Craig has never waited for an invitation to participate in any aspect of parenting; he feels there is no need for an invitation to a job that is his. He is the father- one half of Belle- and tries very hard, despite commuting to his full-time job and juggling other responsibilities, to shoulder half of the load as Belle's parent.

And Belle certainly appreciates him. The way Belle's face lights up when she sees Craig is heart-warming. Belle can't seem to wipe a huge wide-mouthed smile off her face whenever she is around her daddy. She reaches for him when he walked into the room; she can't get into his arms fast enough.

Craig is a wonderful father to Belle, and a helpful, supportive, loving partner to me. Happy First Father's Day, Craig!

Mark your calendars

'Save the date' for Belle's Bat Mitzvah: 2023!

Facebook Fashion

Craig and I have two black-tie weddings in a month: one was Memorial Day Weekend and the second is this coming weekend, three weeks after the first. He and I are the only two who will overlaps (be at both affairs). I plan to wear the same ensemble to both weddings. Now one will know, right?

Wrong, thanks to Facebook. Pictures posted after the weddings will reveal to all of my 'friends' and 'friends of friends' that I wore the same dress/shoes/purse to both summer weddings.

Do I care?

Nope.

I was just thinking about how difficult it is to get away with anything, from a white lie to a repeat dress, thanks to Facebook.

Neighbors

Belle has made many friends of the neighbors who live in our building. Though I've lived here three years longer than Belle has, no one knows my name. I once got in the elevator on my way to a tutoring session. Belle was in the apartment with a babysitter. A nice woman, whom I recognize but whose name I don't know (and I'm sure she doesn't know mine) asked me where Belle was. This afternoon, Belle and I got into the elevator and an older woman looked at Belle and said, "Oh! I remember you! You're that happy baby from the tenth floor!"

It's seems that Belle has acquired quite a reputation among our neighbors.

Incidentally, Belle and I were on our way home having walked by the red carpet hoopla and excitement of the 65th annual Tony Awards that were taking place live just ten blocks south of us on Broadway at the Beacon Theater. Pretty exciting. Leaving NYC will surely be bitter sweet.

She's moving

One of Belle's first crawls. In the past few days, she's definitely gotten faster and more fluid.

Now we're really going place

Motherhood has changed. The days of watching Belle play with her toys on her own are over. Now, Belle is on the move, and I am on the chase. I could Belle down in the living room with her toys, but if the food products near the kitchen look good, there she is; playing with boxes of pasta and throwing snack bags of chips. And showering while she's awake? Forget it, unless I get creative. Today, I strapped her in her bouncy seat with toys and sang to her while I took a three-minute shower.

Yup, it's time to baby-proof our apartment (no small task) and remain vigilant while Belle is awake, because she is one the move. Belle is really going places.

Belle's 9 month check-up: on the right track!

Belle is right on track according to her nine-month "well-visit" with the pediatrician.

She weighed in at 19 pounds and 1 ounce, which puts her in the 52% of weight for her age. She is 28 inches long, which puts her in the 62% of height, but Belle's doctor took one look at her and said, "Belle is longer than that." This made me laugh, since each time a physician's assistant has evaluated Belle's length, I've wondered how accurate the measurement really is. Here's this tiny, squirmy baby whose head I am trying to hold still such that it touch one end of a ruler while the PA grabs her kicking heal and pulls it to the other end of the ruler. Belle's head is on target, too (the circumference of her little noggin had measured in well-below average until now): at 44.5 centimeters, her head is in the 63% in terms of circumference.

Belle's skill development (crawling, pulling herself to standing, assisted walking, babbling, waving, clapping, etc) is right on track.

I love a visit with the pediatrician, especially when we learn the great news that Belle is healthy and growing well!

The next check-up is a day after her first birthday, which is less than three months away. How quickly the time flies!

Playdate

Three babies, two moms. Who needs a babysitter when you have great friends with babies who are close in age? These three girls were born within weeks of each other. When one mom struggled to find a sitter for a dentist appointment, we other moms stepped in. Perhaps this playdate at which one mom gets a break could be a regular occurrence!

A clean apartment

Over the summer, while huge and pregnant, Craig encouraged me to try my hand at challah baking. And so, one hot Thursday afternoon, I attempted to make the special bread from scratch. How hard could bread-making be?

Hard. Hard for someone who doesn't often bake and doesn't much enjoying cooking. It's hard because the recipe calls for "4-6 or more cups of flour." What?! Just tell me how much flour to use! And I had to be patient while the dough rose. Boring. And, to knead the dough, I had to put flour on the counter so the dough wouldn't stick to the counter. What a mess!

So, I ran out of flour and switched to matzah meal for the counter while kneading the dough, which made Craig twitch with anger and disappointment, though I thought it was an genius way to prevent the dough from sticking to the counter. And I wasn't sure the dough was the correct consistency. And the egg wash I made to make the challah shine upon baking was messy and I was sure I'd put too much egg on the dough (it seemed as if I were cooking an omelet on the challah).

Hot and hormonal (I was eight-months pregnant), I just felt awful. How could I be a mom if I couldn't make challah right? Somehow, those two tasks were related in my crazed, prenatal brain.

To cheer myself up, I decided to do something that I knew I could do well. Something that would produce tangible, appreciated results. I cleaned the apartment top to bottom. I scrubbed the corners of the floors. I wiped down the sides of cabinets. I dusted the tops of bookshelves. When I was done, I was exhausted, but the apartment shone, and I felt better about myself; as if I'd proven to myself that I'm a total failure at all maternal skills.

This is all to say that I find it therapeutic to clean when I feel down. It wears me out, produces results, and I am good at it.

And so, this afternoon, when I got the call from our real estate agent that the house on which we put a bid went to another buyer, I felt down. All weekend, Craig and I talked about the house as if it were going to be ours. We discussed paint colors and where we'd put our television and ho we'd use each room. And yet it was not meant to be. Disappointed that we lost the house and deflated that we are back to square one in terms of house-hunting, I did what I had to do to cheer up: I cleaned. Belle napped and I swept and dusted the and mopped the floors (the vacuum would have woken and scared her, so I saved that task). I scrubbed the bathroom and tidied the living room. When Belle woke up, I took her to the park for some giggles on the swings (see below).

I am still bummed about the house, and upset that we are are stage zero in terms of moving, but at least we have a clean apartment!

Oh, and the challah turned out pretty well, if I do say so myself. I ended up baking challah from swatch three more times last summer before Belle came along. Someday, Belle and I will bake it together. And then clean up:)

At the park

I took Belle to Riverside Park today. She enjoyed the swings very much! She smiled, laughed and squealed each time I pushed her gently.

Craig said she looked like a flying nun, but the floppy hat was for sun safety!

When she tired of the swings, she sat on my lap on a bench under the shade of a tree (more on that later). Belle just watched with delight as the children ran and laughed and played throughout the playground and splashed in the fountain.

Mothers have told me that Sesame Street's Elmo is like crack for babies; they love and are mesmerized by the furry red puppet. Who needs Elmo, or any TV or movie when Belle has the kids at the park to watch?

I watched her watch the scene and it was adorable.

When it was time to leave (Belle started playing with my bag, indicating that she was no longer entertained by the Park scene), I found that the tree that offered such nice shade for our playground-viewing also offered a comfortable resting spot for some birds. Some birds who, like so many birds before, pooped on Belle's stroller. I love spending time outdoors and think the fresh air is wonderful for Belle, but I have returned from a walk or visit to the park and made a bee-line for the Windex and paper towels to clean the stroller at least half a dozen times. Darn birds...

Ouch!

Belle is learning to crawl. She can push herself backwards and has recently learned to get herself moving forwarded. After exerting such great effort to move herself around, she often gets tired and drops to the ground on her belly. This fatigued belly-drop is often accompanied by a face plant on the floor. It doesn't seem to both her much- babies bang themselves frequently.

Today, we were at a friend's house playing and eating lunch. Belle crawled (!) and then scooched backwards and then faceplanted. She cried for a second and then stopped immediately when I picked her up. Once in my arms and calm, I noticed that she bloodied her nose with the face plant. I felt awful! I was sitting with her watching her with both eyes- how could she hurt herself under my careful, maternal eye? While I wiped away the few drops of blood with a tissue, Belle calmly smiled and I cried, feeling so bad that she hurt herself while I was right next to her.

My friend, a pediatrician whose baby is two-months older than Belle, just smiled sympathetically and warned me that this bloody nose was likely the first of many. I can't cry every time Belle hurts herself. I have to be brave, calm her, wipe away the tears, and help the bleeding stop. But I just felt, and feel, so awful about Belle's first bloody nose.

A visit with Grandma Ann

A lovely Sunday afternoon in Lawrence with Great-Grandma Ann.

It seems that a walker is helpful for the old and young alike: Belle was able to pull herself to standing and stand on her own with the help in Grandma Ann's walker:

Lucy and Belle play Jumbo-style

A Tufts reunion (Lucy's parents went to Tufts with me and just became our neighbors here in NYC).

Hot hot hot

The weather was so hot and humid today that it tuckered Belle out.