1. Solid food.
There has been a definite feeding trajectory: Will ate all the time, then he ate more but a little less frequently; then he was downing more bottles than anyone really should, so we started with the solids.
The first week was a bit annoying, since he liked spitting the spoon and its contents back out; we tried a trick from a mom in my group, popping a pacifier or the bottle in his mouth directly after the food in order to teach him to swallow it. One week later, suddenly, he could do the spoon. That made things A Lot Easier.
So far we've tried Gerber Organics and Earth's Best: oatmeal cereal (we mix that with everything to chunk it up and get Will's digestive system going), sweet potatoes, peas (I just made my first batch of homemade peas, too), apples, pears, prunes, carrots...today he ate homemade mashed banana, and later this week he'll taste avocado for the first time.
He likes everything.
My final note on solids: if the first phase of eating was CONSTANT and the second was MODERATE, this one is somewhere in between. I'm always either preparing or spooning or cleaning up, but I have a lot more fun with it. Will's in the high chair playing with toys, I'm talking to him as I mix some veggies or clean a bowl, and we're interacting and making each other smile or laugh. It's actually a lot of fun.
2. Benjamin Moore.
We're painting four rooms in preparation for the big switcheroo. We are moving Will into one of the back bedrooms now that he's sleeping consistently for 11 hours, so that I'm not banned from using our bedroom and bathroom while he sleeps and naps.
I've already mentioned my love for Benjamin Moore's Lavender Blue, but alas, that color is getting muted (the nursery will be the new office) by a couple of coats of Lenox Tan. My new favorite, although we have nowhere to use it, is Blue Heron. It's a dusky slate-ish blue, and it is so gorgeous. The end.
3. Speaking of paint, I adore the hardware store we go to, Swartz True Value, on Watertown Street. Everyone is helpful and all the tough contractors like to coo over Will, which is sweet. When I was pregnant, one guy made sure I wasn't going to be getting up on a stepladder. I like Watertownies with hearts of gold.
But today I ran into my first condescending (though well-intentioned) customer. This man asked me if I was getting ready for the painter to come to my house, and he said it laughingly--not meanly, but with an implication that I too would laugh at the mere idea that I could be painting a room myself. I take his point...as a woman, surely I would just end up with the paintcan on my head, Montgomery White leaking down the pink apron covering my I HEART DAVE tee-shirt.
"Oh yeah, I'm all set for him," I replied. "And his name is...my husband!" I don't know why I thought this would be a great comeback, considering I was just admitting that I wasn't going to be doing any of the work (which is wishful thinking, considering I'll likely be painting alongside Dave for the bulk of the process). Oh well. I suppose delivering enlightenment to the good-natured-but-mildly-sexist among us will have to wait. :-)
4. Fourteen is Enough.
Another regular at the store (am I obsessed with this topic or what?) asked how old Will was, commented on how cheerful he was, and then said, and I quote: "How 'bout that Octomom?"
I replied with the obligatory, "Yeah, I know, right? Crazy!" to which he said, "How wouldya like to deal with all those kids?" before turning to Will and saying, "How would you like seven brothers and sisters, all the same age as you?"
It was like he was spelling out the Octomom story for me...and for Will...and he kept going. THEN he wrapped it all up by saying, "You know what the worst part is? The media! They won't stop talking about it. Just leave her alone!"
It was so confusing. He had clearly been anti-Octomom, and now he was anti-anti-Octomom-media, so maybe he just liked to disagree with others.
5. Cousin love.
In NON-hardware-store-related news (shocking, I know), we are going to New Jersey this weekend for three days to see Baby Michael and the rest of the clan. The cameras are charging and the Pack 'n' Play is already loaded into the trunk.
There's this amazing thing called "spending one evening cooking and getting four meals out of it." What is the meaning behind this magical phrase, you ask? Well, all you have to do is get TWICE the meat you would need for one dinner and cook it ALL TOGETHER IN THE SAME DISH. If you do this with two separate meats (such as steak and chicken), you can get two nights of steak and two nights of chicken, simply by reheating said meat.
Cutting edge concept, I agree, but please, no autograph requests. I do it for the love of the game.
We went to our friend's belated Mardi Gras plus birthday party on Saturday night. We left Will in the capable hands of my sister's au pair, drove down to Providence with Lauren (who would like me to note that she got ready in record time), and spent four hours remembering how fun it was to spend an evening at the Leone Lounge.
(I call it that because this house has a handmade bar, cafe tables and flatscreen in one room; an entertainment system the size of Montana and another flatscreen in the living room; a huge wraparound deck with a firepit and hot tub outside; and the coup de grace, the two televisions BEHIND THE MIRRORS IN BOTH BATHROOMS. )
Lauren walked around all night saying, "I can't believe this house. No, I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS HOUSE." Although she was a little frightened of the space-age TV-mirror situation. (Yes, you were.)