Coffee Walk

With days of lovely weather happening more than randomly these last few weeks, we've really relished getting outside and going for a long walk. I tuck Arlo in the Moby and off we go! Our usual route is the canal path, and we usually walk it all the way into downtown. It takes us a leisurely thirty minutes, passing wetlands, the dog park, two people parks, and numerous historic sites. We almost always end up at the coffee shop. Two tall Americanos + a cuddly baby + people watching = a fine way to pass the time. 

And Arlo is his name-o!

May the Force Fuss be with you.

Wanted

Wanted: Fellow New Mommy Friend

(sung to the tune of The Perfect Nanny from Mary Poppins)

If you want this choice position

Have a cheeky disposition

Rosy cheeks, no warts

Tell jokes about farts

You must be witty, you must be kind

You must possess a liberal mind

Go with me on walks, bring me baked treats in boxes

Burn me a copy of the new Fleet Foxes

Never be cross or cruel

unless you're mocking a Fox News fool

Love me and Arlo like your extended family

Bonus points if you have green thumb abilities

If you won't scold or dominate us

We will never give you cause to hate us

We'll talk about books and smart documentaries

and we'll breastfeed our babies over afternoon coffeee.

Many thanks sincerely,

Rhianna

This afternoon Arlo and I went on a long walk. On the return leg of our walk a cute old lady neighbor I had never met before stopped me on the corner and made a cute old lady fuss over Arlo. I introduced myself, and she told me her name was Frances. She was wearing a cute old lady do-rag a la Rosie the Riveter, and she walked with an ornately carved cane. She asked if I lived on Woodford, and I told her I did. She said, "They told me that you had a new baby." I have no idea who "they" are, but apparently we have been news on the Neighborhood Old People Network. She pointed out her house, about a block away. She told me that Arlo and I should stop by and see her on our next walk. I suggested that we all take a walk together sometime.

Seriously, I need to find some local friends my own age. Or, at the very least local friends with small children, not small great grandchildren. No offense to my new friend Frances.

Update on the Homefront

The stay-at-homefront, that is. So, news. Big news for us.

I quit my job.

The job has been officially taken and shoved.

My first week of work consisted of me hiding in my tiny office crying, staring at pictures of Arlo, and crying while staring at pictures of Arlo. While it was a total treasure to have Grandma Susan and Grandpa Elbe here on Daytime Arlo Duty for that first week's transition back to work, it only took a bit of the edge off in terms of missing the baby. And, it was sadly only temporary. I know so many working mothers who juggle the work+family gig with aplomb, and I'm sure I could have found a way to be one of those moms eventually. I think I cried myself to sleep just about every night during my three weeks at work. It was haaaard. Most of all, it felt completely unnatural. That's the best way I can describe it: unnatural.

Daycare was...daycare. Our center was located just across the street from the hospital, and I would scoot across the street around lunchtime every day to nurse Arlo. His teachers were nice, though a bit overwhelmed. Sometimes the background music of our lunchtime nursing would consist of five (or more!) different babies crying at varying decibels, and me staring longingly at a nursing Arlo and wondering how in the hell he manages to nap during the chorus of constant crying. I was afraid to put him down or leave him in his crib, lest he too start crying for however long it took for the busy teacher to make her way admist all of the other needy babies. They were nice to us and they welcomed Arlo affectionately, and they even continued with our cloth diapering with a little bit of education and support from us. Still, it just felt...wrong. Not wrong for everyone. Just wrong for me.

It was a strange, unforeseen brand of hurt.

Each day in my new parenthood has challenged my expectations, and one expectation that was quickly dispatched was my expectation of returning to work and finding a comfortable, easy stride there.

In some ways this decision to quit work was easy: I want to be with Arlo. I want to dwell in my motherhood.

But, in many other ways, it was a complex decision. In terms of my career and in terms of wage-earning, the more practical option would have been to remain at work. After all, just last May I finished my masters degree, racking up extra student loan debt in the process. To leave the work force in less than a year of completing my degree seemed...silly, imprudent. I mean, what did I go to school for? And in terms of wage-earning, I was the moderately bigger wage earner. It's obvious which option made more monetary sense.

But we've never allowed the quality of our days together to center around money. We've always lived modestly within our means. We've always managed to live a very enjoyable life regardless of our tax bracket. And so together we decided that Arlo's babyhood is too short, too priceless. I composed a heartfelt letter of resignation turned it in to my boss.

The anxiety of our future financial wellbeing is never far behind me. I spent the first day of my unemployment quietly berating myself and anxiously wondering, "What have I done???"

But then. Oh, but then.

While I was changing Arlo's diaper, tickling his chubby thighs and kissing his soft baby knees...he laughed out loud for the first time. I immediately gasped in delight and was boldy remined of the treasure of this time with my baby.

We will cinch our bank accounts, we'll eliminate frivolous expenditures, and we'll embrace our new frugality.
Our home will be rich in new and different ways.

It already is.

The Better to NOM You With, My Dear

There's a safari in this baby's mouth. And bottomless stores of drippy drool. We have seen a surge in drool over the last week, now making a bib a steadfast component of our daily wardobe. 

Droooooool. Everywhere.

Never have I seen a more adorable baby, and never has a giraffe looked so scrumptious! 

(Thank you, Katie and Jessica, for my Sophie the Giraffe teether! And Bella and Sadie for handing down your high chair! And Uncle Stan and Aunt Sue for my cozy sleeper!)

A Visual Treat

Our friend, Joni Ulman-Lewis, sent us this ridiculously awesome collage card to celebrate Arlo's birth.  She's kind of a crafty fancypants to us, and apparently to others, too, since her work has been featured in major magazines like Country Living and Everyday with Rachael Ray. (You can see some of her other greeting card work here and collage work here.) We fawned over this card when we opened it, and we plan to frame it for Arlo's room. Love, love, love it!

Dear Arlo, 3 Months

Today you are three months old.

Three months ago at this time I was laying in a stiff hospital bed holding you in my arms, elatedly exhausted. I am as saturated in your wonder today as I was our very first night together. Tonight we are in our own bed, and you are sleeping, contently swaddled, between your dad and me.

I love our family bed. I love that life feels complete on this king-size mattress.

Last night I was up with a spell of insomnia, and I laid here in the bed, my eyes moving from you to your dad, watching you both sleep. My boys. And when you stirred, I watched as your dad sleepily and reflexively leaned over to you and gently kissed your head. Both of you were again soundly sleeping in seconds. In this bed, I thought, is my entire life.

I love that the three of us go to bed together and wake up together. I have never loved waking with you more than I do right now, for you are a beautifully happy baby when you wake up in the morning. When I unzip your swaddle, you extend your body in the longest, most delicious stretch, and when you open and focus your eyes, you smile. It is a smile of innocent happiness, and it grips me. We greet you, kiss you, snuggle you, and you are just this blue-eyed, soft-cheeked, broadly smiling creature. It's glorious.

My favorite thing right now? Your voice. I remember the first time you coughed as a teeny newborn. We gasped and fawned over that little cough. You were just a few days old, and it sounded like this great, adorable foreshadowing of how your voice would sound. And now, we hear more of your voice in your babbling and cooing.

Oh, the cooing.

You and I shared a nap this afternoon, and when you woke we stared at each other, trading smiles. And you cooed at me, so deliberately. You pursed your lips at me, and from them came the most gently inflected ooooh-oooohhh from the back of your throat. I swelled inside. I spoke to you, and you cooed back again. I swooned.

There will come a day when you leave our bed for your own, I know. But, for now, it is our sacred space, where you, your dad and I share sleep. Where we extinguish our day, where we start the next anew. You are the first and last thing we see each day. You are our perfect bookend.
My sweet, sweet son.

I am engulfed in a love so profound, so radiating, so bottomless.

I am nothing if not achingly grateful for you, for these last three months, for our days to come.

Your Mama

Hangin' with My Grandparents

Last week Grandma Susan and Grandpa Elbe drove out from St. Louis to spend the week with us Arlo. This truly was a gift, as this was my first week back to full-time work, and they did so much to ease this difficult transition. I always knew that going back to work and having to leave Arlo would be immensely difficult, but I genuinely underestimated just how trying it would be. Knowing that he was in the very enthusiastic and loving arms of his grandparents tempered the strain.Saying that we feel fortunate for this gesture really isn't saying enough. Totally a priceless gift.

I love my Grandpa! (Even though he is a Cardinals fan.)

Grandma gives the best baths!

Rubber Ducky, You're the One

I'm not sure if I should be embarrassed to admit this...but Arlo didn't receive his first "tub" bath until he was more than 2 months old. Up until that time we had been giving him sponge baths using the little tub that was given to us in the hospital, the very same one from which he was given his very first bath by Nick and nurse Melissa.

Rick and Margaret Kolster, the parents of our dear friend Sarah, gifted us our Primo baby bathtub. It's a very cool bathtub, almost a Cadillac of baby bathtubs. When we received it as a baby shower gift, we looked forward to bathing our soon-to-arrive lil' ducky in it, but when Arlo finally came and when his little umbilical stump finally fell off, he simply seemed too little for the bathtub. And, honestly, I thought the sponge baths were a lot easier. They used less water and made for a really quick clean-up.

And then, one day, Arlo just seemed too big to be receiving sponge baths. Perhaps it was that he had developed more neck control, or perhaps it was that Mama finally realized that this cute chunk o' baby needed a proper bath. In his swanky bathtub. And lo, it was actually easier. And after a bit of initial skepticism and its accompanying brief whimpering, Arlo tolerated it well. And lo, he actually liked it!

 Grandma Susan and Grandpa Elbe had sent us this super cool bath cloth called a Luve (pronounced lovee), specifically for keeping the baby warm and for keeping any, er, surprise sprinkles at bay. It worked like a charm! We use it for every bath now. So froggy, so handy.

Splish, splash, lounging in my bath

Squeaky clean!

Maymont Pit Stop

A couple of weekends ago, we stopped into Richmond's Maymont Park for a quick nursing pit stop. It was very late in the afternoon, around 4:30pm, and we knew we wouldn't have time to really walk through the expanisve park before its 5:00pm closing time. Instead, we sat for a spell on a bench, nursed, people-watched and snapped a few pics just to document Arlo's first (of many to come) trip to Maymont. We are seriously ready for sunshine and long walks and picnics in the park!

Our Two First-Borns

Birdie--our nearly 11 year old and very first pet--decided that she wanted to get in on the Arlo cuddle action.  Seriously, is there anything better than a warm, cuddly infant snoozing on your chest and a fat and persnickity feline lounging in your lap?

(Pardon the crazy Saturday morning hair. Apparently I need to get in on some hairbrush action.)

Though in general the cats have been mostly indifferent to Arlo, Birdie has notably been the most patient with him. She doesn't spazz or skitter out of the room when he's having a major crying jag, but instead just kind of sits there with a unflappable Hey, kid. It's going to be alright kind of look.  And clearly she doesn't mind sharing some lap time with her lil' bro. ;)



Out for a Stroll

Taking advantage of some sunshine on a mild February day after stopping into our friend's downtown shop to introduce her to Arlo:

 

You gotta love it when your friend lets you use the back room of her shop to nurse your fussy baby. :) Obviously he was quite happy and bright-eyed afterwards. Love those cheeks!