Baby Blase

Dear Harrison,

You’re sitting on your pop’s lap right now, while he tries to finish up work on the computer.

You are content to sit and watch him work - following the moving objects and lit up screen. Your dad’s legs are naturally shaky making for the perfect baby-bouncer. We’re a little concerned with how much you like the ol’ moving pictures. I imagine we could park you in front of the TV for the better part of a day and you’d be happy to fry your brain. This past month we’ve been at the grandparents’ house which is complete with big-screen-cable-provided-programming. It is coma-inducing to anybody who walks within it’s visual range. The media frenzy that comes booming from that box is scary enough - and when you factor in commercials - holy moly - not on my watch I say to myself… this from the woman who just nursed you while watching the Olympics and then when you were so cute sitting in my lap watching the TV that I just let us stay there for an extra half hour.

This month started with you smiling and cooing and boy have you mastered that.

It is truly the most beautiful thing I have ever seen - we get you in the morning and unwrap your swaddle and you look up at us with your gorgeous eyes and shoot us that smile. Even if you’re crying - if you see Marc or me you stop and give us a little giggle. It is the reason to wake up in the morning. The giggling is a work in progress. You have the cutest group of breaths that gather together to form a pseudo giggle - and I’ll take that for now - but, i am really looking forward to a full-on laugh. We are starting to hear a bit of your voice come through in your coos. And it just makes me that much more eager to know you.

Your dad is living up to his dad-of-the-year nickname. He fearlessly took you into San Francisco to meet up with John at Tour De Fat. People we tell about this adventure are immediately shocked and awed with Marc’s ability to take a child away from it’s mother and bring it back alive. But, as we know, your dad is no ordinary human being. And besides, when there is beer as incentive, there is nothing he can’t accomplish.

We had a lot of events this month for you to attend. Your baby shower/sip and see, my sister’s bachelorette party - where you made an appearance at our day-spa-party, kylie’s rehearsal dinner and then her wedding. You were a champion baby throughout. Letting all kinds of strangers hold you and fuss over you. It was always my wish that you would be comfortable with our friends. The capper was Kylie’s wedding - we made you wear a suit in the heat and passed you to countless strangers who gooed and gaaed all over you. Again - champion baby! Thank you.

Spending this last month with my parents has been priceless. I can only imagine that for my mom - who married an American after knowing him for only a few months and having babies thousands of miles away from her mother; never really giving her the opportunity to get to know us as much as she would have liked - this is a beautiful thing. Three generations living in the same house may be a bit turn-of-the-last-century for me, but, I recognize how wonderful this is for all of us. Your dad’s parents stopped by on their way back home from a vacation in Oregon and the seven of us lived on the premises for a weekend. You were passed from grandparent to grandparent - loved from all angles. It was really special.

Your dad and I are still working our tails off even though we are doing it from my parents dining room table. The Chinese rainforest resides at the foot of my end of the table and the aquarium swing is at your dad’s end. We take turns feeding/changing/playing with you throughout the day and try to give you a smattering of independent play in the rainforest neglect-o-mat. This system is working well for the time being but, we have started to interview nannies for you. The nanny will start next month… something to look forward to…? The jury is still out on that.

This month has proven to be the best yet - we are all reaching our stride and enjoying every moment with each other.

Love, momma

Listening: Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band