Nursery Nooks, Pedicures and Furniture Indecision.

As the days billow over from April and frolic into the springy folds of May, our days are speeding by with enthusiastic force. Dean is nestling cozily into his new gig as Noah and I fill our days with Itsy Bitsy Yoga, dancing to "Reggae Playground", attending "Babies On Blankets Wednesdays" and getting pedicures. Wait . . . pedicures, you ask? Okay, yes, it's a recently rediscovered pleasure that I engaged in with two other mommy-friends after our Tuesday "Mommy & Me" class this week. With babies in carriers strapped to our torsos, the three of us entertained and nursed our wee ones whilst we indulged in a delicious hot stone leg massage and toenail polishing foot pampering session. I will hold the memory of the hot, smooth rocks against my flabby and flaccid postpartum calf muscles near and dear to my heart's memory--it may possibly be the last time I take part in such a sinfully delicious act of self indulgence until Noah says his first word.

If you have recently viewed our Flickr photo site you will have seen a picture of Dean and I sitting on a love seat on the sidewalk. The photo's caption tells of a decision that Dean and I made to dispose of the old couch (the first piece of furniture that we ever purchased together--almost 8 years ago) in order to make room for Noah's play nook. At approximately midnight, my friend Candice aided Dean and I in hauling the small sofa from our living room to the curb where it was to be either ransacked by bums for the cushions (they use them for sleeping) or salvaged by thrifty hipsters. But--it didn't quite end with either of those scenarios. I uncomfortably wandered around the living room after its absence convincing myself that the aesthetic void its disposal had created was a small sacrifice for the play area that was to be created for little Noah. The next morning's light brought with it, however, the glaring realization that our living room looked haphazardly arranged and stark without it. With all of the furniture pushed to the outer perimeter of the huge room, it appeared as if we had just moved in as opposed to cozily habitating it for the last four years. So that afternoon, while Dean was at work, Noah and I mustered up enough courage to mosey out to the curb and see if our seat of love was still there, and if so, still intact. It was there--waiting for us to reclaim it and return it to its loving home. Noah and I pleaded with a neighbor to help us haul it back inside. So, now it sits where it used to. With the piano moved to another wall and a bookshelf relocated to the dining room, we've comfortably made a spot for Noah's nook in a sunny corner of our living room . . . right beside the love seat.

You Know You're A New Daddy When . . .

• your ipod playlist includes Baby Einstein animal friends playtime classics
• your jogging buddy gets to sleep while you do all of the work
• you're shocked to find yourself discussing sleep strategies with other men
  
• you can't remember the days when your wife's breast were something other than baby feed bags
• you get downgraded to the old station wagon for your daily commute while the wife and carseat crooner get the newer ride
• women swarm to you like bees to honey (even if it's only because you're holding a baby)
• you read more baby gadget instruction manuals than books these days
• you find yourself showing cell phone pictures of junior to everyone you meet
  
• you discover that that lump under your pillow is a dirty breast pad
  
• your tallying the days since you last had sex like ticks on the wall of a jail cell
• sleep is something you used to remember doing
• you swear that you always have unfastened snaps on baby's onesie because they make them with "extra" snaps
• you can change a diaper one-handed, in the dark, with one eye closed faster than a speeding bullet
• you find yourself hiding the postpartum granny panties while folding laundry in hopes that they'll forever disappear

And, lastly, you know your a new daddy when . . . you wouldn't trade any of the above for anything else in the whole wide world (okay, maybe except for the granny panties part).

You Know You're A New Mommy When . . .

• your favorite local public radio station has been replaced with Coldplay renditions of lullabies and muzak versions of nursery rhymes (and unfortunately, he likes the muzac nursery rhymes best)
• you discover the "tiny tot trio" (dried slobber, spit up and poop) on your favorite "dry clean only" sweater AFTER you've arrived at your destination
  
• you notice your bouncing the bag of apples on your hip as you wait in the grocery store check out line
• your pillow is an exotic vacation destination you'd love to visit one day
• you are lucky if you get one shower a day--and NEVER get two
• you host your first "PG-rated" party ever--a BBQ in the middle of the afternoon on a Saturday at a park featuring other couples with kids . . . and it's your 30th birthday
  
• your cuticles have grown over your fingernails
• your milk-stained nursing bra is your sexiest piece of lingerie
• "mommy and daddy time" means falling asleep on the couch together
  
• you've purchased so much under-eye concealer that the makeup counter lady knows you by first name and your credit card number by heart
• you can only identify that lady you met last week by the name of her kid
• a wild Saturday night means managing to stay awake long enough to catch the opening monologue of "Saturday Night Live"
  
• you truly consider doing chores while dad watches the baby taking a break
• you discover that breast pads double perfectly as drink coasters
  

And, lastly, you know your a new mommy when . . . you wouldn't trade any of the above for anything else in the whole wide world.

Putting Information Behind the Immunization Ouch.

Okay, your child may not agree that reading up on vaccination schedules will make getting the vaccine hurt any less--let's be honest, shots hurt. And, for many parents getting their child immunized is downright painful for them too . . . but it doesn't have to be.

On March 31st, Noah received his first round of vaccinations. Vaccinations are scary. We've heard first-hand and read second-hand accounts of children suffering life-long disabilities from receiving vaccinations, as well as, children who have fallen ill because they haven't. As with many decisions that parents must make for their children, this one was extremely difficult.

As the vaccine debacle rages on, we were committed to finding a comfortable compromise between the dogmatic medical community's perspective and that of those who support a more natural approach to vaccinating children. Dr. Robert Sear's alternative vaccination schedule published in his book, "The Vaccine Book: Making the Right Decision for your Child" shone for us like a beacon of hope in this dreary debate. His schedule allows you to receive fewer vaccinations at each infant checkup by spreading out the shots out over a longer period of time and preventing your child from being exposed to so many nasty toxins all at once.

The "standard" two-month check-up, for example, crams in five, yes, five (!) vaccinations for immunization from all of the following really scary things: diptheria, tetanus, pertussis, haemophilus influenzae, polio, hepititus B and pneumococcal. On the other, more gentler hand, our pediatrician, who was more than willing to meet us middle way, gave Noah two vaccinations at this appointment instead. We'll return next month for the next few.

While this alternative schedule may not be for everyone--after all you do end up spending a little more time at the Doctor's office--we appreciate the peace of mind that a subtler approach brings to this unnecessarily invasive "growing pain". So, for those of you who may be currently wrangling with the decision yourself or who might be thinking of having children, we encourage you to give the vaccination issue some thought and a little research--just put a little info. behind that ouch. Even if you decide to not deviate from the American Academy of Pediatrics' standard vaccination schedule, at least you will have made an informed decision . . . and though our little ones can't escape the ouch that a shot can bring, they at least deserve an informed ouch.

Spring Has Sprung.

Spring has arrived and with it horrible allergies for me and sensory overload for Noah Finn during our daily park visits--as he watches the squirrels, birds, butterflies and other children play with enrapturing fascination. You just can't beat mother nature when she's at her burgeoning best--bursting with the vivid colors and crispness that life's beginning brings.

Aside from daily park visits and grassy picnics, Noah has been experiencing his first spring from the comfy cushy chair of his new jogging stroller. In order to give me some "mommy time", Dean has been taking over "Operation Noah Watch" in the mornings several hours before he leaves for work while I do whatever . . . shower, sleep, chores. Before Noah Finn made his grand appearance, Dean used to run every morning in a park close to our house--but the frequency of these pavement pounding a.m. escapades has been sporadic at best over the last few months. Now, with the addition of our three-wheeled-rubber-tired baby running machine, Dean is able to once again hit the trails daily with the little jammie-clad tike in tow. And so far, Noah Finn loves it!

Last Friday, Owen and Annaliisa paid us a visit. Just like our pre-baby days, Ani and I couldn't keep ourselves from a good shopping dose. But, unlike our pre-baby days, this time we had babies in tow--which made for lots of nursing sessions in dressing rooms and the parking garage, finagling bulky buggies through Friday night crowds and tightly packed clothing racks, one-handed size searching, shushing screams and returning scornful stares from strangers and a very late dinner sans martinis that, of course, included dessert! Oh how those shopping days of old are gone . . . and even though our purchases were rather small--two sale shirts for Ani and several pair of socks for Noah and I--I'm pretty sure neither of us would trade that beautiful Friday night for any other. It was a blast--just with babies this time.