jaysaint Getting it all down on paper…

I’m laying on the couch. Alden is laying on the floor. Or, rather, he’s laying on my canvas bag. In one hand he’s got an empty Luna Bar wrapper and in the other he has a wet washcloth. We’re letting the air conditioner blow on our faces while we watch an Oprah rerun.

If it sounds like we’re wiped out it’s only because this past week was our first trip without Damon. Until we get moved, I plan to spend one week a month in Tennessee. My company pays for me, but we pay for Damon if he wants to come. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but plane tickets are pretty pricey right now. So every other month daddy comes, and on opposite months my mom drives down from Cincinnati to provide the daytime baby care. Alden goes where I go. I always say he has to because he’s still nursing so much. But the truth is that if he weren’t I would probably just come up with another reason.

So he and I braved LaGuardia together, and depended heavily on the kindness of strangers. I do not have the skill level required to collapse a stroller while holding a 20+ pound baby. Did I ever mention that Alden is enormous?

So. Knoxville was great. Despite the purchase of five different safety-themed swimsuits we found the indoor pool to be too cold. Instead he and Grammy did a lot of playing in the room while I was at work. One of the most marked differences between Daddy care and Grammy care is that by the time I’m finished working Daddy is usually good for splitting chores and baby duty. Grammy, on the other hand — and understandably, was crashing hard at 5:01pm.

We did lots more of touring the city at night. Still, we’re not so sure where we want to live. But data is data and more is good.

Now I am exhausted.

So much so that I’ve buried the lede. We got a signed contract on our apartment on Friday. Monday morning we’ll go down to our lawyer’s office to sign ourselves. Then, if the bank and the board cooperate, we will be shed of this apartment. I love it. I do. But I’m ready to give it over to other people to love. I want to be puttering in my yard by fall. The approval process usually takes somewhere between a month and two months. Since one half of our buying couple is heavily pregnant, we’re going to do everything we can to scoot it along.

Remind me on my next post to tell you why I’m afraid of the broiler.

At least according to the New York Times.

The list makes sense. We’re definitely doing better in some areas than others.

Beets: Love ’em. Damon didn’t eat them when we first met, but now he’s converted. I roast them more in the winter, and we haven’t had them much since warm weather rolled around. Which is silly because I could make pickled beet salad more often in the summer and it’s delicious.

Cabbage: Another cold-weather staple. I make a lot of veggie soup in the fall and winter and almost never leave out the cabbage. Although we do have some homemade sauerkraut in the refrigerator right now and I like to eat that on veggie dogs.

Swiss Chard: I’ve never made swiss chard, but I’d be happy to give it a whirl. I’ve had it in restaurants and know we both like it.

Cinnamon: I associate this with sweets and baking, which doesn’t happen a lot in our kitchen. But I can definitely remember to throw some on applesauce. I don’t like oatmeal, but Damon can cover that one. I’ll bet Alden will like it too.

Pomegranate Juice: We’ve got a big container in the fridge right now. It’s both potent and expensive, so it gets mixed into seltzer water.

Dried Plums: Are just prunes. I hate the thick, mealy texture and am going to have to take a pass on this one. I did try to like them, though.

Pumpkin Seeds: Another one like swiss chard. I just never gave it any thought. I use a lot of sesame seeds so maybe I’ll just switch it up sometimes.

Sardines: Nope. Damon would be delighted, but he will have to start cooking for himself if he wants sardines.

Tumeric: It’s funny to see this because I made lentils and veggies just last night with a ton of tumeric. It’s so easy. If you don’t cook with it I recommend you give it a shot. It’s particularly good with hearty veggies like potatoes and carrots. Let me know if you want the lentil/veggie recipe (such as it is).

Frozen Blueberries: I keep meaning to make smoothies. The article suggests blending it with chocolate soy milk. We usually have that on hand (although not right now) and that sounds pretty good.

Canned Pumpkin: I just bought a can of pumpkin for Alden, but we didn’t eat any of it. Which, in hindsight, was kind of silly. We’ll split the next can. Maybe I’ll add cinnamon!

I enjoy a challenge to use new foods so I’m always up for a list like this.

I was vacillating between writing about Jesse Helms and writing about Alden and toys. And as tempting as it is to give an unrepentant racist some head space, I think I’ll go with the baby.

I had a revelation the other day, and it was that I can buy toys from stores. I know, I’m not sure how I missed that.

We have a darling collection of toys that Alden has gotten as gifts — stuffed animals, plastic fun things, balls, blocks. They came primarily from my baby shower and a few hand-me-downs from friends, but also from a generous Grammy who likes to do things like send him 4-month birthday presents. Until just a few days ago it never, honestly never, entered my mind to buy him a toy myself. We seemed to have quite a few lying around. But then a few nights ago I realized that some of his current favorites are:
— seltzer bottled filled 1/4 of the way with water
— a plastic container from Costco that once held yogurt raisins, now filled with a few jangly cat toys
— wet washcloth
— diaper bag filled with soft books, plastic keys, onesies, diapers, whatever
— cat
— mail

I think all the above are reasonable toys (except maybe the mail). But I also had to recognize that I do have a job and probably could go ahead and purchase my son a few things. I decided to try to satisfy his desire to push buttons so I got him a baby cell phone and a baby laptop. So far he likes to turn the laptop over and lick the bottom. It’s his toy, so whatever. But now whole vistas are opening before me. What toys do your babies love?

In other news, Damon wants to try to get into the Guinness Book of World Records for visiting every subway station in the MTA system in under 24 hours. He is wondering if I would be able to plot out a route for him. But he’s wondering up the wrong tree, because my brain doesn’t do math that way. Oh, and he wants to take Alden along. That means I’d get the bed to myself for a whole night so I say GO FOR IT!

Get Your Cyborg Name

On our agenda for this evening:

We will eat broccoli and flyyyyyyyyyy through the aiaiaiaiaiair.

At least, those are the lyrics to the song that I made up while we waited for the pasta to finish cooking tonight. Those are all the lyrics. And, truth be told, we flew through the air first. And then ate the broccoli when it came out of the steamer.

All of this to say that it amazes me how having a baby has obliterated my ego in the best possible way.

I am sad to say that I’m no singer. Even though my husband looks on me with an amazingly uncritical eye (Or should I say ‘listens to me with an uncritical ear’?), there is no way I would have let him hear me sing at the top of my lungs. Until Alden was born. Now, I don’t even bother trying to carry that tune. I just wail. Add to this that I am well aware that anyone in the vestibule of our building can hear me too. Don’t care.

I can also go days without makeup. That’s nothing new. But what is new is that I can do that, and can at the same time breeze past multiple mirrors without stopping to take a peek. Sometimes when I’m out I even wonder if I’ve put on any gloss and I have to smack my lips to check. It’s not the harried-mother-with-hairpins-flying thing. I certainly get that with stuff like getting my tote bag packed up appropriately each morning. It’s just that I don’t seem to mind it. Damon seems charmed by my more laissez faire attitude. He definitely doesn’t care if my face never sees another cosmetic. And I think he secretly thinks I’m more fun now.

The broccoli Alden ate tonight was his first. He approached it like he does all new foods — like a Dyson. I mashed up a steamed stalk and put it on a little plastic plate. First he picked up all the reasonable chunks and stuffed them in his mouth. Then he licked the plate. Then he swished his hands around my empty bowl and licked the butter and cheese off his fingers.

Other foods he loves: pickled ginger, dill pickles, marinated mushrooms, tofu curry, Oreo (sue me), American cheese (argh)

You know what food he doesn’t love? The uber-disgusting secret ingredient feature in the Iron Chef taping I went to today. Probably only because he doesn’t have access to it. But still — *shudder.* I’m not being coy as much as I’m adhering to the confidentiality agreement I had to sign pre-taping. I guess I am at least narrowing it down for you. It’s probably not — say — corn. Again, all I will say is: So Gross! And I was uncomfortably close to the action.

Here’s how our little porky pie is shaping up these days: