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.

Home Sweet Sweet Home.

After two weeks of visiting great grandparents and grandparents, great aunts and uncles and a plethora of cousins on the east coast, Noah and I are nestling back into our southern California rhythm.

The visit was eventful and enjoyable and while we were gone, Noah made several developmental leaps and bounds--he can now reach for, grab, hold and pull things to his mouth and has expanded his squeaks, squeals and squawks sound library. A lonely daddy and pair of kitty cats called several times a day while we were gone and greeted us eagerly at the airport after a long but delightful flight with flowers, kisses and smiles--and since our plane landed, we have hit the pavement running.

Saturday, we trekked out to the high desert to visit Annaliisa, Drew and Owen at her parent's place in Acton. We hadn't seen baby Owen for several months and it was incredible to see how much he had grown. Noah and his first little friend posed for pictures, held hands, pooped and nursed the visit away.

Yesterday, our friend Sara urged us to take some baby gear off of her hands until she had a need for it again. Due to our own case of baby gadget overload, we at first resisted . . . that is until we spied a bouncer seat similar to one Owen had that Noah enjoyed during our visit. After Noah took it for a sucessful test spin, we quickly threw decorative caution to the wind and greedily agreed to temporary ownership of the seat in anticipation of several moments of arm-free-of-baby bliss. We've recently learned, anyway, that baby happiness equals parental unit happiness, therefore, a successful hushing toy trumps aesthetics. The more tacky, okay that's not nice, garish, alright that's a little harsh too--flashy?--a toy is, the more junior likes it. So welcome little rainbow colored, blue light flashing, monkey moving rain forest chair, welcome.

Cordless In Carolina.

Greetings Fans, Followers and Readers,

I remembered the camera. I remembered the camera charger. I forgot the cord that connects the camera to the computer needed to transfer pictures to Flickr--and the camera's full of fun snap shots that poor Daddy back home in sunny socal is dying to see.

I think we're going to buy one while we're here. So fear not, all of the pictures of family and Finn that you can simply stand will be posted . . . well, in a few days I'm sure.

Noah's Growing Arc.

If you were planning to give step stools and seat belt extenders to Noah Finn for his three month birthday, you better have kept your receipt. Today was his two month check up and according to Dr. Zabari, he is perfectly proportional and just where he should be on the growth charts. Noah's latest stats at 11 weeks old: 11.14 lbs., 25 inches.

My how fast they grow. Little babies truly are amazingly mind-blowing--in the best possible way. They grow and change simply before your eyes. Dean and I swear that Noah has sprouted an inch and gained several ounces every time he wakes from a nap. It's true that they poop a lot, burp a lot, cost a lot and cry from time to time, but these seemingly pesky qualities really aren't so bad, after all--because they fall in among all of the incredible millions of other little things that go along with caring for a baby that are just simply amazing. Like . . . grasping and holding a toy, laughing, giggling, gooing and cooing, rolling over, studying a bird in a nearby tree or the nose on daddy's face, kicking and splashing in the bathtub, responding to mommy's voice . . . and doing them all for the very first time. You can see the little wheels of his young mind turning and churning, working hard to move his fist towards his mouth for a suck-fest, straining to create the look of utter concentration he wears when pooping and the glow of relief when it's successfully been dumped in the diaper.

Grandma and Grandpa Nelson just caught a glimpse of it all while visiting us for the last week and a half and the rest of our families at home in North Carolina will be able to relish in the sweet and rapid changes in our little Noah Finn beginning this Wednesday through the end of March. During that time, I am not sure how much blogging we'll be doing, but you can bet we'll still be regularly posting pictures to our flickr photo album.

Rock 'N' Stroll.

Yesterday I discovered that Noah Finn does not share his mother's affinity for public radio. Classic rock it seems, is more his thing. While driving the short distance between Target, the park for a playdate, and our home, there was no classical station to be found and I had left all of the classical compilation cds that daddy had made for Noah at home. The only thing found on the radio dial to soothe the screaming beast in the backseat was Led Zeppelin--nada to mariachi, nada to alternative rock, nada to slow jams. Only the rockin' rhythms of Bob Seger and Fleetwood Mac calmed my mighty car seat crooner. I truly don't mind a nostalgic trip down bygone decades' memory lane, but several stoplights of The Eagles while I could be indulging in the stimulating intellectual acrobatics that only accompanies a good dose of "All Things Considered" seems detrimental to my mental health--but then again, so does a screaming baby. So, Ms. Stevie Nicks, we welcome you with open arms to the Surette-Nelson mobile.

In other Noah news, Noah Finn is making more friends than Mr. Rogers due to the rigorous social calendar that we have been keeping. Really, it's no more than an outing or so a day that has us meeting and mingling with other "grown-up talk" deprived mommies and their little spawns. The L.A. M.I.L.K.s. has turned out to be a great group of moms. Last weekend I ventured out for my first "mommy's night out". Despite mediocre Chinese food at an even more questionable dining establishment in Chinatown, pumping a bottle of breast milk for Dean and Noah while I indulged in some mommy-to-mommy face time amidst sweet and sour soup and stale cookies of fortune was just what the Dr. ordered. Weekly walks, playdates and other pint-sized adventures have forced us to practice getting out of the house at a specific time--which is harder than it sounds for those who have never had to do it.

So, if it seems that all things in babyland lately are sunny and splendid, well they are. For the most part, we have moseyed on by the dark days of blog postings past. Dean and I have been continuing to experiment in an effort to find what's right for us and little Noah Finn. I guess it's just a matter of getting over mental hurdles--the hurdle that makes it difficult to accept that you are on your little one's schedule or "not-schedule" now--your time is no longer your own. Once that revelation is realized and embraced, life with baby it seems is sweet.

Friday the 13th, Indeed.

As you all know, last week was mine and Noah Finn's first week home all alone and as I reported half way through the week, all was rosy and fun. That is until Friday, Friday the 13th, and the last day of the first week. Perhaps this is not new news for more experienced mommies, but eating and sleeping for Noah has not followed any kind of predictable pattern so far. As soon as we think that we have figured something out--oh, he eats every two hours--or--oh, he goes to sleep every three hours--he changes it on us without warning. And last Friday was an exercise of mommy's patience for change.

He woke up from "night sleep" at about 10:45 a.m. and, of course, ate. We played, changed diaper(s), played some more and began winding down for nap time (Drs. recommend that babies until 6 months of age nap every two to three hours). Sometimes Noah goes a little past the recommended two to three hours, so when he appeared not sleepy, we continued to play, giggle, change and feed until about 3:00 p.m. Still displaying no signs of weary eyes, I tried to put him down to sleep nonetheless--after all, it had been over four hours now.

Sleep for him and a break for me, however, were not in the cards for either of us. Nope--Mr. Bright Eyes and Bushy Tail woke up after five minutes. I tried several times again immediately--swaddling, white noise, shushing, rocking--same result--sleep was on vacation and it wasn't visiting L.A.

So, we read and rocked, ate and sang, danced and gooed until he began to doze in my arms while feeding and the clock struck 5:00 p.m. My arms ached--I was growing weary and ever so slightly frustrated--I couldn't put him down for longer than 15 minutes or else monumental meltdowns would occur. Again, I tried to put him down to sleep several times with no success.

So, we swung and bounced, bathed and massaged until the clock was ticking towards 8:00 p.m. Yet gain, I tried to put him down to sleep several times with no success. . . . And, then, I began to cry--uncontrollably--sobbing. I called Dean several times at work. He desperately tried to do what he could over the phone--begged me to come to the studio so that he could give me a break. But it was raining, cold and blustery outside--I was still in my P.J's and looked as if I had been caring for an infant that hadn't slept at any point in the last nine hours.

So, I paced from room to room rocking the baby with no eye lids from side-to-side as I cried--from exhaustion, frustration and defeat.

11:30 p.m. approached and Dean came home from work and took over "Operation Infant Insomniac". By midnight, the little monkey was asleep--over 13 hours later.

How did he sleep during the day on Saturday and Sunday while Dean was at home, you ask? Like a baby.

First Week Flying Solo.

So, we've survived, Noah and I, the absence of Daddy. He of course calls several times a day to both hear Noah coo and make sure Mommy isn't spouting baby gibberish from our apartment building's rooftop--but, nope, no signs of new mommy insanity in sight--it's been smooth sailing so far. One of the many good things about living in the city is the many walkable outings that are possible--grocery stores, outdoor shopping malls, farmer's markets, restaurants, parks . . . not such slim pickin's for cabin fevered families! And despite the rainy cold weather as of late, we've even managed to begin to get into some semblance of a routine and it's only day three. Forbearing no major munchkin mishaps or meltdowns, Mr. Noah Finn gets a baby massage in the sunshine that comes through our bedroom window and a bath every other morning, a mid-morning walk to the Tar Pit Park and afternoon walk to the Pan Pacific Park every day, and a sponge bath every night. In between all of that, we spend our time singing, reading, talking, sunning, gazing at our spacemat mobile, chillin' in our bouncer chair, pooping, peeing, eating and napping.

And for those of you who were wondering, yes, we made all three mommy group's "final cuts"--but now we've decided to make a few cuts of our own. "The No Drama Mamas" it turns out, were everything but "low key"--the group leader seemed to be something of a diaper dictator and required attendance from moms at least several times a month along with other obligatory silliness. It was my intention to meet other moms for leisurely park strolls and have a real tangible reason to spend three hours preparing to leave the confines of the home via a vehicle for playdates once in a while--not feeling guilty for not making a meetup if Noah and I feel like sleeping in and ditch a date because we want to stay in our jammies all day. The "Stroller Striders", too, were nixed from our list. They require an $80.00 a month "membership fee". I don't know about other new mommies out there, but cloth diapers, enough clothes to keep up with weekly growth spurts, and other "necessary" baby baubles and gadgets have drastically curtailed our expendable income. Which brings us to the last mommy group that we applied to--"The LA M.I.L.K.s." (The Los Angeles Moms I'd Like to Know)--no fee required and no rigid obligations--just other mamas looking for fun, friendship and support. Our first meetup will be tomorrow at a park just a few blocks away. It's at 9:00 a.m. which may pose a slight problem for us because of our nighttime nursing schedule, but the promise of our first mommy & me friendships will hopefully be enough to pull us out from beneath our snugly covers. So, wish us luck--the idea of adding regular mommy group playdates to our new schedule is simply thrilling!

Before we close, a quick breakdown of Noah's current daily friends and foes--and luckily there are more loves than not:

• loves bathtime
• hates getting dressed--particularly the putting the shirt over the head part
• (still) loves watching the ceiling fan go round and round
• hates tummy time
  
• loves being on his changing table
• hates his swing--sorry Grandma and Grandpa Surette--this could change . . .?)
  
• loves being naked--particularly without a diaper
• hates the feeling of wind on his face--he wrinkles his nose, clenches his eyes shut, and gasps for air
  
• loves his spacemat mobile
• hates sleeping without being swaddled
  
• loves sleeping in his Baby Bjorn carrier
• loves his "white noise" machine
• loves dancing around the living room with mommy
• loves classical music
  
• loves getting his baby massage
• loves sunning on the sand at the beach
• loves breastfeeding every minute of every day even when he's not hungry
• loves sucking on his fist (his hand is a newly discovered body part)
• loves sticking out his tongue and licking his lips (a newly discovered skill)
• loves cooing, gooing and giggling at mommy and daddy instead of taking naps