Archive for February, 2010

Orange You Cute

This post is basically an excuse to post my newest favorite photos of our delicious, delectable child.  They’re thematically linked by the concept “orange,” but otherwise this is just a cute-a-palooza.  Because people, this child is killing me with his cuteness these days.

Changing table, with orange gDiaper.

Could you resist that?  Ack, it hurts me deep in my lungs!  His smiles just seem extra smiley and his laughs like little peals of music.  He’s doing this new thing where he gets overwhelmed with pleasure and shyness when one of us smiles at him, and he buries his face in whoever is holding him.  He’s also a bit ticklish now in his armpits.  He loves — LOVES — being naked, which makes me think he’ll be like his Uncle/Cousin Nick, a bigtime naked kid.  When we get him undressed for his bath, he seems thrilled. 

Tickle my armpits... I dare you.

He’s also enjoying his new adventures in food tasting.  Balsamic vinegar did not go over well, but loads of other foods have.  Yesterday we handed him a blood orange and he started sucking away at it like a pro.  We had to pry it out of his hands!

Tasting his first blood orange.

 We’re completely, absurdly smitten with this one.  We just look at each other soetimes in awe of his cuteness.  Sure, he’s frustrating sometimes, and occasionally I’ve been known to plead with him to please, for God’s sake, let Mommy sleep a little longer!  But it’s hard to stay mad and frustrated when that shy smile unfurls and that little hand reaches up to touch my face.   “Do you think his cuteness is peaking right now?” I ask Robin.  She shrugs.  Miles coos. We stare.

This is way better than balsamic vinegar!

Miles and Mommy.


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My Little Mojo

Looks like Miles is the perfect replica of his Mommy. His hair has more red in it, but the resemblance to Mommy, pictured opposite Miles below, is otherwise a pretty good match. Though his Uncle Barry prefers the nickname M-ROD (Miles Russell Onstad Davidson), Miles is unmistakably a little Mojo.

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Going on an Expotition*

After a week of vomiting (mine, for once), crying (mostly his) and general misery and boredom (shared), Miles and I FINALLY left the house today!  Glory, glory!  It was UH-MAZE-ING, people.  It was better than a lobotomy — I’m a new woman.  But let me back up a little.

We all know the stomach flu sucks.  There’s nothing like it to remind you that, whatever the meaning of life may be, whether or not we have souls, we’re most certainly encased in flesh.  Flesh that heaves and hurls and spews yellow bile and leaves us reeking and muttering on the bathroom floor.  So add onto that NOT INTERACTING WITH OTHER ADULTS for eleven hours at a time, moping around the same five rooms lit by meager, tepid February sunlight, caring for a teething, not-napping baby — okay, I’ll stop there.   I can be such a downer sometimes, jeez.

Anyway, I vowed that I would go outside today NO MATTER WHAT.  And I awoke to the most luscious, resplendent, sunlight-refracting snow we’ve had all winter.  And we’ve had a lot of snow this winter.  School was canceled again, and you could sense the collective excitement of millions of New York City schoolchildren as they pulled out their sleds.   Even Miles seemed extra excited this morning; he is a born New Yorker, after all.

Sometimes, as some of you know, I can be a little, well, overly conscious of obstacles.  But today instead of letting the knee-deep snow discourage me from going out with Miles, I let it inspire me.  The snow was inviting me, begging me to come outside and romp.  We have a really sturdy all-terrain stroller given to us by our neighbor, and I decided to find out the hard way how it handles in snowbanks.   My friend Julia, also a teacher and a lover of winter weather, agreed to come along on the adventure.  (When she showed up at my house today, Julia said in a completely low-key way, “I’m just going to put these waffles I made in your fridge.”  That’s exactly the kind of friend she is.)

I’ll let the photos tell the story.  Suffice it to say, the stroller is pretty incredible!  We had to pick it up and carry it over some spots, and lots of people offered to help us through patches of sidewalk that hadn’t been shoveled.  But mostly we laughed, talked, walked, and shoved our way along.  (Miles, unconcerned, took one of his patented 20-minute naps.) 

When, sweating and smiling, we reached Prospect Park, I felt an utterly clichéd but irresistible inward soaring.  My gaze swept up along the silvery branches and my heart leapt forward along the curving path.  Just beyond the treeline, screams and laughter.  Even adults, lugging sleds for their children and pausing to admonish them to hurry up or put on their mittens or stop yelling, already, seemed unusually joyful.  People kept smiling at me, and I was wondering, what is it?  Why so many smiles?  And then I realized, oh, they’re smiling back.

* I know how to spell many words.  This is a Winnie the Pooh reference.

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It’s No Joke

Sometimes I wonder why I even shower. Inevitably, as soon as I get out, Miles spits up all over me. And in case you thought the spit-up stories were hyperbole, here’s further evidence of the puke-itude around here.

We take spit-up very seriously around here.

I’m still recovering from a stomach flu; thus the short entry. I hope to get back to more detailed ruminations very soon. Until then, thank you for continuing to visit!

I just put this outfit on him... sigh.

Here’s one last photo since those two were so similar.  Did I mention I am not feeling well?  Sorry for my lack of sparkling prose today.  Photos make it aaaaalllll better, right?

Happy morning baby.

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Sick day

Mommy’s down with a nasty stomach flu, which means Momma stayed home from work today to take care of the little guy. While Mommy recuperates, enjoy a few recent pics.

These things called feet are very interesting.

Looking good with Mommy.


Tickle box!

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Mornings With Miles

Talking on his play mat.

“Oh really?”
“What else do you have to say?”

And so goes the witty banter of my early mornings. Our best conversations usually take place at the changing table just after a massive poop (his, not mine). Our conversations are loud (and thus defeat the supposed purpose of Miles hanging out with me, which is to let mommy sleep in the next room) and full of laughter — him looking up with his open-mouth smile between utterances; me being devoured by the cuteness. When he’s not talking to me in the morning, he’s usually laying on his play mat and having intense conversations with that other baby he sees in the mirror. I have no idea what they are saying to each other, but I can sense the urgency in their voice(s).



Miles’ usual wake-up time is between 7:45 and 8 a.m. The 45-60 minutes that follow are easily the most relaxing of my day. I have taken to getting up an hour earlier than usual so that I’m ready for work when the boy wakes (something the call of the gym never managed to hold me to), and we play, laugh, talk, stand, sit, grab things — yeah, no, momma’s not trying to pack in a whole day in the 45 minutes before leaving for work. Not me.

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Miles had a great time yesterday visiting Momma’s office at the Very Important Law Firm in Times Square.  He especially enjoyed plotting with RJ to take over the world (see photo).  It was RJ’s birthday, so we went out to lunch.  Miles did the circuit at the table, being held by many adoring fans.  He even stuck around to sing Happy Birthday back in the office and sample chocolate cake frosting (which he wisely devoured).

RJ and Miles plan their global takeover.

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