accomplishing a lot

The past few days have been full of getting things done. I've been crossing things off my to-do list and Jack's been finding tons of things to play with that negate any need for all the great Christmas toys that we've already ordered. See the pictures at the side of Jack watching the washer tumble and rolling a diet Coke can all over the kitchen. This afternoon we played a game where I sat the can upright and Jack knocked it over. We did this for almost 15 minutes straight. I've set that can to the side so that no one opens that one for the next few days. Oh, and note the teddy bear footies on his pajamas. Jack has been wearing those pajamas for a few months but he just discovered the teddy bears and thinks they're hilarious--almost as funny as when I put one of his hats on my head. He recognizes that bears aren't supposed to be on his feet and I'm not supposed to be wearing his hats, which I think is pretty clever of him.


Wednesday we went to the NHS health clinic for a checkup and weigh in. I still can't get over the fact that we have tons of top-quality help there anytime we want it and don't have to pay a cent for it. I mean, taxes, but they're not all that much higher than we'd be paying in the U.S. But anyway, good news is that Jack has gained over a pound in the past 4 weeks, bringing him back up to almost the weight he should be.

Today Jack ate half a banana, half a pear, almost an entire avocado, a sweet potato cube, about 1/2 a cup of oat Cheerios, three teething biscuits, a rice cake, and a few handfuls of rice rigatoni, all with a small mommy tax levied. I list this not because I think you all particularly care, but in part to remind myself that overall he's probably getting enough to eat even though it only seems like he's getting small bits of food at great effort during each feeding. Without that reminder I still keep worrying that Jack's at the cusp of another hunger strike. In an effort to avert that, I've started giving him more finger foods. He normally doesn't feed himself (except Cheerios--those are making it in his mouth at a rate more like 9 out of 10 now, which is a pretty impressive leap from 1 out of 10 less than a week ago), but he still seems to like chunky food better than purees.

Thursday our new rug was delivered, putting me much more at ease about letting Jack climb on absolutely everything like he wants to do. Now we're starting the next step--teaching him how to fall well. He's doing a pretty good job. He's learned that the trick is to fall where the padding is, and he's even able to get there some of the time.

Ben's had an awful week at work, not making it home until after midnight several nights. He was able to come home for a few hours on Wednesday night when I sent him an email with the subject, "I think I broke my middle toe," (didn't--it was just jammed and only took a day of hobbling to heal, it just really hurt) but then he had to go back to work after Jack went to bed. Fortunately, Ben thinks he should have the weekend off (can't believe I'm saying that--I've really become

brainwashed by the law firm widow lifestyle), so tomorrow we're planning to celebrate my birthday early by going to Wagamama and then going on the London Eye. I'm a bit worried about the latter part, as I inherited a fear of heights from Pops, but hopefully since it's an enclosed pod it will feel just like flying in a plane, which is a-okay.

a nice break

I really hope we still have readers despite my long absence from the blog world! I mean, I know that our family will still be checking, but I have heard that many of Uncle Stephen's friends and friends of friends are also readers, so I hope I haven't lost all the non-comment-posters who have bumped the hit number up over 400 in less than 3 weeks. (That's the little lion counter on the right hand side at the bottom, for those of you who hadn't noticed it before now.)

As Jack's Grammy (or is it Granny now?) so accurately pointed out, pictures and video of Jack are the main draw, so I've included a glut of pictures to try to make up for the lack of recent posts. But hopefully a few of you still read through my rants and philosophical musings about the minutiae of mommydom, though I don't expect to get many responses like Godmother Melanie's considered reaction to my breastfeeding diatribe (thank you, thank you, thank you!).

A catch-up list of some of the great things that happened while my parents (Nonna and Pops) were here last week, in no particular order:

1) I had an afternoon out completely to myself. Until then I literally had not been completely alone (as in not at least in the same house with Jack or Ben or some other family member) since Jack was born. Seriously. That needed to change. I got a first-class haircut, complete with champagne and head massage, at Trevor Sorbie's original salon. After that I was at a loss for things to do, so I went to a cafe and got out my notebook to make lists planning for Christmas. Fairly pathetic way to spend an afternoon, but it was nice to get out and know I can handle being alone again.

2) Mom and Dad and Jack and I spent lots of time at home, getting Jack into a better nap time and sleeping routine. Even though he had been sleeping enough during the day, his nap times and bedtimes were somewhat unstable, so we set some more definite parameters. More importantly, we started developing a longer, more consistent bedtime routine

3) We had a fantastic Thanksgiving dinner. In fact, every night's dinner was terrific, especially when Dad made lasagna (the picture of Jack eating is of him having some pureed lasagna, which he loved!). But Thanksgiving was incredible. Mom made everything--turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy, Ben's favorite sweet potato casserole, a creme brulee cheesecake ball, and pumpkin and pecan pies with homemade almond whipped cream. And Ben was able to come home by 6 to eat with us!

4) We took Jack to see Santa (Father Christmas, as Mom kept reminding us). Jack was fascinated by his beard, and I think we may have gotten one of our pictures for our Christmas cards.

5) Ben and I went on a date. First we went to a fabulous Thanksgiving party thrown by our friend Marty. We expected to only stay an hour or so, but we were having such a blast that we were there for almost three hours. On the way home we stopped and had drinks at a posh hotel bar across the street from our flat. We decided that would be an ideal place to go the first time we try a non-family babysitter, and determined we should go on a date at least once a month in the future.

6) We took Jack on lots of nice walks, including one that went by a petting zoo at Coram's Fields. Jack was a little too tired to completely enjoy the sheep, but we took pictures anyway.

7) Jack and Kaia had a playdate that we videotaped. They play together so often that it doesn't seem like much of an event, so it turns out that I have fewer pictures of Jack with Kaia than with many of his other friends. So it was nice to have a grandparent audience who recognized the importance of recording even the most common of occurrences.

In taking Nonna and Pops to the airport, we were able to extend the time before saying goodbye while at the same time scouting out the route and checking how long it takes to get there. We've never flown out of Gatwick before, but Continental has direct flights to Houston (where Grammy and Granddad live now), so we're going through there at Christmas. It means we'll have a 10 1/2 hour flight, but at least it will be direct. Only 23 days to go!

Most importantly, though, aside from allowing me to get sleep and get a break, Mom and Dad validated the feelings I've been having lately by saying that what I'm doing really does seem hard. Not just because I don't have a nanny or babysitter or because Ben has to work 90 hour weeks, meaning that I don't get to talk with him and he doesn't get to help with many of the day to day baby care things during the week. But also that living in the middle of London adds a layer of complication. I can't just put Jack in the car seat and head off to a grocery store 5 minutes away; I have to clear out the Bugaboo to make room for groceries, load Jack in, walk a mile and a half to the nearest real grocery store (not just the ones that are the size of small convenience stores), and walk back with all the bags hanging from the stroller. Going shopping for basic things like light bulbs and picture frames on Oxford Street (which I'm not doing again until at least January, since Christmas threw up all over it, making the sidewalks even more enraging than normal) requires at least 30 minute journey each way. Those reassurances--that I'm a good mother and that I do have it a little tougher than I would have if I lived back in the US--made me feel infinitely better.

Jack's new favorite toy

Ah, sleep. I had forgotten thee. But now I remember and thou art good. Mom and Dad have been here three nights, and Jack's sleeping pattern has gotten significantly better each night. The first night he was up six or seven times, and the second it was four times. Last night he only woke twice between 9 and 7, then slept for another two hours!


Or so I hear. Ben and I have been down the hall at the Sanders' empty flat (they're in Boston on vacation until Friday morning), so all of our wakeup information is blissfully second-hand. We leave after Jack's first wake up to eat, around 11 then don't come back until 8:30 when Ben starts getting ready for work. It's the longest I've ever been away from Jack, waking or sleeping, but it's worth it.

Jack is absolutely loving all the love and attention he's getting from Nonna and Pops. He's playing nonstop, giggling constantly. He's found Pops's nose, which he loves honking, and he's a pro at playing peekaboo with Nonna.

Saturday after Mom and Dad got here, we basically all slept all day, except for a brief foray out to the KCWC Nearly New Sale, a rummage sale that slightly disappointed me. I had high hopes for it, as some KCWC members routinely buy exorbitantly expensive things for their babies (think Stokke highchairs for $300 and Baby Dior clothing) and would be likely to nearly give away those things when done with them, especially since the proceeds of the sale go to charity. Unfortunately I think we arrived a little late, after a lot of the stuff was picked over. The designer highchair I had hoped to find was not there; in fact, there were no highchairs there. So I suppose it's off to EBay to buy the same perfect highchair that Stacy has for Kaia, just like I should have done two months ago.

We had to rush back from the sale so we could take delivery of Mom and Dad's luggage, which didn't quite make the plane they did--a delay in KC left them literally running through the Newark airport to catch their flight to London with seconds to spare. But we were at the sale long enough for 1) Jack to discover balloons (cute picture but it's on Mom and Dad's camera, so I'll post later), and 2) the lady selling Krispy Kremes to zero in on Dad and Ben as suckers and get them to buy an entire box. They were gone by last night.

Sunday we again lounged around, and the weather was appropriately dismal. Dad and Ben made cheese eggs and bacon for breakfast and were especially adventurous for dinner, fixing Coq au Vin and cheesy garlic biscuits. Delicious. We went to mass at the Italian Church, where the priest confirmed our suspicions that they think Ben is Italian and I am only barely learning the language. I was holding Jack as we went up for communion, and as the priest said the blessing, he said something admiring in Italian to Ben over my head. Needless to say, neither of us quite got what he was saying. Mom and Dad, who are also studying Italian, were able to follow along a little--much better than Ben and I did the first few weeks. The picture is Jack dressed for church in one of his new outfits from Nonna and Pops.

Yesterday afternoon we braved the still awful weather to walk to a Portuguese chicken restaurant and the grocery store. While at the latter, I picked up some oat Cheerios. I had been resisting Cheerios because the latest recommendations on the introduction of wheat vary greatly--some say it's okay between 6-8 months and others say to wait until a year. I'm not particularly concerned about Jack having an allergy, but if he were to have one, wheat would probably be the worst, with milk and nuts a close second and third. So I figure it's best to play it safe and introduce wheat slowly and in small amounts. Our culture is too wheat-obsessed anyway.

But I digress. The point is, I got Cheerios, and Jack now has a new favorite toy. Not to diminish the joy he finds in all the new toys Nonna and Pops brought him, but Cheerios are by far the most interesting thing in the world to him right now. He's already got a great pincer grasp, and he even manages to get about one out of every ten into his mouth. The others go into his lap, up his sleeve, and a few have even mysteriously ended up in his socks. Fun times.

Tomorrow it's off to the NHS well-child clinic to be weighed. I anticipate it being a very good experience, as Jack has visibly chubbed up since his last visit there a few weeks ago. This is an extremely good thing as last time (toward the end of his eating strike) he had lost weight and was in the bottom 2% of weight for babies his age, despite being of above average height. Doctors and nurses can say until they're blue in the face that growth charts are inordinately based on the patterns exhibited by formula fed babies and that breastfed babies show slightly different patterns, but that doesn't do anything to soothe worried mommies of skinny babies. At least not this (formerly) worried mommy of a (formerly?) skinny baby!

Up by the bootstraps

It's been a long, hard week and Nonna and Pops can't get here soon enough (less than 16 hours until their plane lands!). I promise to post more regularly next week while I have help here.

As a Friday treat, though, I thought I'd post a video that explains part of the reason I haven't posted all week. You see, I've been running interference between the ground and Jack's head. Since Tuesday night Jack has been pulling up on everything he can nonstop. As you can see, he goes from laying to standing in just seconds, and this video is not at all atypical of his style. You have to love his penchant for drama--I'm especially fond of the exhausted heavy breathing around second 15 of this clip.

Jack on the move

In talking to some of you, I have realized that there's been a little confusion about Jack's mobility. Let me be the first to assure you that Jack will not be tied down anymore and can get just about anywhere he wants (except off the bed--we still won't let him jump to his doom, despite repeated attempts to do so). I can no longer turn my back or go into the kitchen while he's in the living room without first thinking about the things within 10 feet of him that would potentially be dangerous to him, as that's inevitably what he'll be drawn to. Electrical cords? Loves them. Trash cans? Never seen one he didn't want to upend. What's the the torts/property law term for those things again? An attractive nuisance?

While he's not yet moving on all fours (he gets up on all fours and moves forward a little, but mostly the going is too slow that way for his taste), Jack is definitely crawling, and he has been for about a month. It happened gradually, not in the light bulb moment that baby books anticipate with their "First time I crawled" with a dateline blank next to it, so I can't put an exact time on when it happened. It's just that he does it in a way that looks like a surprisingly graceful adaptation of an army crawl--elbow over elbow, on his tummy. A little hard to describe, so I decided to post a video. I've been having trouble getting it to run in anything other than slow motion on my computer, but I'm hoping that that's just a problem with my 3 year old Dell (being replaced by a Mac at Christmas), not with the footage. Let me know. In the video it looks a little like we're coaching him, but I promise you we don't have to encourage Jack to get him to crawl.

This weekend we realized that tooth number 3 is now definitely coming through--his upper left one. I've been told that once a tooth breaks the skin it doesn't hurt as much and night waking is less common. I hope so. Forgive me if I sound like an ungrateful broken record, but a full night's sleep is going to be indescribably blissful. Only five more sleepless nights to go!

Oh, and hunger shouldn't be a problem tonight. Today Jack ate 1 cube of carrots and 1/2 a cube of parsnips for breakfast and 2 cubes of sweet potatoes with 1 of cauliflower for dinner. Hooray! This weekend Jack tried avocado, which I'm sure will make his Granddad proud, as he's always proclaiming the amazing health benefits of avocados to anyone who will listen. This week I'm going to give broccoli a try. I've been holding off on it because its one of a list of foods whose high fiber contents tend to cause stomach upset--spinach, for example, is supposed to be particularly rough on babies' tummies. But Jack has been eating lots of other foods with tastes and textures similar to broccoli, so I figure it might be worth giving him a small serving of it. We'll see.

On breastfeeding

I've been trying to build up a supply of frozen milk for Jack's midnight feeds while Nonna and Pops are here, and as of now I think I'm up to at least two nights' worth. I know most of you aren't incredibly interested in breastfeeding stuff, so if not, you can skip the rest of this entry. Emily Bazelon, who writes for one of my favorite websites, Slate.com, has had several recent articles about breastfeeding that have turned me from a reluctant reader of her columns to a pretty big fan of hers. They're witty and real and examine her subject with her lawyer's thoroughness. She's not nearly as good as Dahlia Lithwick (who lives in Charlottesville and actually signed Ben's Con Law book at his request), and I'm still not convinced she's the best mom in the world, though I'm not as skeptical as Ben about her mothering abilities. Ben thinks she's a mom a la one of the professors at UVa Law who appeared to have all the maternal instincts of a cobra--she was seriously so abrasive that I was really surprised to see her with her second bump (I didn't know anything about her before she had her first child). But the point is, Emily Bazelon is a darn good writer and she's tackled some topics lately that have been of particular interest to me.

An older article sings the praises of the breast pump, analogizing it to the BlackBerry in its ability to free moms from constant care of their new babies. It's a really good comparison, in both the negative and positive ways. I've seen many of my friends become tethered to their work via a BlackBerry, and I have to say that my friend Bessie similarly became tied to the breast pump, which she used for several weeks (or was it months?) after she had to stop breastfeeding her son Henry (who shares Jack's birthdate). But it's so freeing to be able to think of leaving Jack for a few hours to get my hair cut or go on a date with Ben (should he ever be freed from the office) without worrying about Jack getting hungry.

But it's her latest article that I find the most interesting. Apparently there's a new study that just found that when babies with a certain gene were breastfed, their IQs were on average 7 points higher, a really significant difference. But the interesting part is in the details that most articles about the study overlooked. Although 90% of babies have the gene, those without it showed no benefit or detriment from breastfeeding. The study was also done before formulas started incorporating DHA, a fatty acid found in breast milk that is possibly associated with brain development--the addition of DHA to formula may significantly affect the study's usefulness.

Those two facts are likely to be overlooked by the La Leche League nuts who tend to use edited information from studies like this to make women feel horribly guilty about not breastfeeding their babies. Or even the US government, as they did in a public service announcement that likened not breastfeeding to a pregnant woman riding a mechanical bull (I'm not kidding about that, and the ad is even less subtle than my comment makes it seem--seriously watch the video on the link). It's disgusting and unnecessary at a time when women are feeling so completely vulnerable for others to make judgments. Very little of the often times unsolicited "advice" about how to breastfeed and how to keep your supply of milk is actually helpful. Even Dr. Sears, who is normally my childcare expert of choice, is fairly unhelpful in the breastfeeding troubleshooting area; most of his advice consists of reminding a nursing mother in pain that her baby "is only small for a short period of time," which is no solace for a burning chest.

Don't get me wrong--Jack hasn't had any formula since he was about 6 weeks old. But that's not because I'm crazy convinced that breastfeeding is best--just that it's easiest for us now and I've actually come to like it. It's mostly because 1) after the initial horribly painful and frustrating first 3 weeks, I've been really lucky that I haven't had problems with breastfeeding and figured that it was cheaper and easier than carting around all the supplies required for formula feeding, and 2) Jack had a couple of terrible vomiting incidents the last two times he had formula supplements that scared me a lot. Even though those incidents were probably a result of other people not knowing Jack's signals and overfeeding him, it was still enough to make me determined not to have to give him formula again.

At any rate, Emily Bazelon takes the study findings a step further, asking what the implications are if scientists develop the potential to find out whether or not children have the gene variant that makes breastmilk beneficial. She asks, wouldn't you feel ripped off if you made tons of sacrifices to breastfeed your infant who didn't have the gene? Or even if you just found out that you didn't have the gene, period, and thus didn't have the possibility of an IQ boost? Well, yeah, I kind of would. Fascinating argument.

Relief in the form of small joys

I honestly don't know why we didn't hire a cleaner a year ago. Seriously. Ernesta started today, and I can't tell you how wonderful it is to have our whole flat look spotless and to have spent the entire afternoon playing with Jack. Heaven. She did all the deep cleaning yucky stuff in about 2 1/2 hours, and now not only will I have Jack's naptimes more free, but Ben and I won't have to spend the entire weekend trading off looking after Jack and cleaning. That's totally worth $50 a week.

I had a couple of surprises, though. 1) Ernesta is about 30 years younger than I expected her to be; I'd be surprised if she's much older than me. 2) She's Lithuanian. From her accent and name, I expected someone Spanish. The only other Lithuanian I've known was Lizzy Friedle in 4th grade. 3) That construction worker I yelled at a few weeks ago? Ernesta's brother. Yeah, seriously.

Last night I finally decided on a new diaper bag--I'm sure you were all eagerly awaiting that announcement. I'm actually really excited about it, though. It's by this company called Dad Gear that makes un-frumpy bags. The one I ordered has a big daisy on it (I know it sounds girly, but it really doesn't look it--check it out) and should go very well with Jack's blue and tan Bugaboo.

Another new happy thing I forgot to mention last week is that Starbucks' Christmas drinks are now out. After a week of a campaign saying, "The red cups are coming," on signs outside Starbucks, a feature that got me far too excited (and seemed to offend Ben and his dad, though I'm not quite sure why. We are in England, after all, so sounding a little like "The redcoats are coming," would likely be more reassuring than threatening for people here), they have finally arrived, and with a new one to boot! The new creme brule latte is good, but it can't beat the old eggnog latte standby. Unfortunately I'm going to have to go easy on the eggnog lattes--while all of them come in decaf, the eggnog cannot be made skinny. Disappointing, but it may make it an even more savory treat.

Mission impossible

My mission, and I choose to accept it, is to attempt to update you on the last five days before Jack wakes up from his afternoon nap in approximately 20 minutes, if I'm lucky. Here we go!



Friday: Went to lunch with our friends Karem and baby Keira in South Kensington. Had a lovely time. Jack wore his real shoes out for the first time, and actually looked more like a proper little boy than a baby, which was a bit surprising for me. The picture isn't the best of him, but it gives you an idea of how cute he must have looked when he wasn't making a goofy face.

Jack wasn't sleepy during my lunch with Karem, so he tore up pieces of paper (I've now taken to carrying a small, fat notebook so I can give him papers to play with. I think he honestly likes it better than most of his toys) and gnawed on the cool cucumbers from my salad. We discovered Jack's second bottom tooth is coming in.


Mom and Dad's travel plans were finalized--they're coming in on November 16 and leaving on November 26. Mom's already planning a real Thanksgiving meal, which will be a very welcome change from last year. Even though we went to a great dinner the Saturday after Thanksgiving last year, the actual day was anticlimactic. It was the day after we had found out we were having a boy, and I was so excited to buy baby boy clothes that I didn't think about cooking at all, and of course Ben didn't have the day off.


Saturday: Took Jack to his first soccer match at Fulham's Craven Cottage. We got there just after halftime, as we had free tickets and decided late that we were going. Just as we walked in, we had a perfect view of the other team scoring a wide open goal. Fortunately we were not bad luck, as Fulham scored two more goals in the remaining 40 minutes. Fairly exciting for footie. Afterwards Ben had to go into the office, so Jack and I went with him, and we both helped out before Jack fell fast asleep under Ben's desk.


Sunday: Went to mass at the Italian church. I've decided that everyone must think that Ben's Italian and I'm his non-Italian wife, as when we go up for communion, the priests and alter servers always speak to me in English and Ben in Italian. Spent the afternoon playing with food again, with little success of getting Jack to eat any of it. Ben had to go into the office all evening.



Jack had a terrible night's sleep. I decided that I would try feeding him milk or solids at least every 2 1/2 hours during the day so that he would get the idea that daytime is for eating and nighttime is for sleeping. I was pessimistic about that having much effect. I resigned myself to the idea of forcing him to go at least 4 hours between night feeds, even if that meant letting him cry a little at night. I was thoroughly convinced that I was a bad mommy who had taught my son terrible sleep habits and would have to live with the consequential lack of sleep for the next 3-4 years. It was a really depressing thought.



Monday: Jack decided at lunch time that he wanted to eat my soup. It was tomato-based, so I was slightly worried that the acidity would do awful things to his stomach. But it was organic and didn't have any no-no allergy-causing foods, and I wasn't all that crazy about it myself, so I kept feeding him until he was no longer interested. Half the bowl later, he stopped. Amazing. Ruined the white onesie he was wearing, but that's a small price to pay. It gave me a chance to dress him in his Mizzou outfit with shorts just like his Uncle Tyler's. He got into the tiger spirit by continuing to growl, a move sure to scare away all Jayhawks except his Godmother Melanie.

Later that evening, over the course of about an hour, I got him to eat almost an entire cube of peas, by eating some myself, then offering them to him. As I was explaining the day to Ben that night, I realized that it's really tough to feed him like that--I end up spending the entire time worrying that I'm going to offer too much food, too soon, or in a way that he won't like, and that that will cause him to completely shut down and refuse to eat anymore. By the end of the night, I was a wreck, still convinced that I would never sleep again.



Tuesday: Jack slept like an angel last night. He slept from 9-11:30, 12-almost 6, then 6:15-9:30. Incredible. As luck would have it, I couldn't sleep for half the night, but I did get some good sleep during his long sleeping stretch, only briefly interrupted by a cough at 2:30 that sounded like he was dying (He wasn't. I checked. And checked again. And almost woke him up checking a third time.). I am relieved to know that my desire to cuddle my baby to sleep is not the issue preventing us all from getting a good night's sleep and to know that he can eat, and when he does eat, he can sleep. Whew! Also really glad I didn't have to try to let him cry himself back to sleep. Don't know that I could have actually done that, even if I did check on him every few minutes.


At 11:30 this morning, Jack was really tired, so I put him in his crib still awake, and he fell asleep for his morning nap on his own without crying at all! During that nap, I took the luxury of cooking a real lunch for myself--honey wasabi salmon, baked sweet potatoes (okay, that was partially for Jack, too), couscous, and even a small glass of red wine. So amazing to feel like I can do that instead of having to sleep every second!




This afternoon we went to Clerkenwell Green, a small park around the corner, where Jack discovered grass. After talking to mom about Tyler's eating habits as a baby, I thought I might give Jack a try at feeding himself, to see if he just wanted to be a little more independent. He certainly tries to assert control while drinking milk, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to try. We brought along chunks of banana and sweet potato, which we fed to one another in small pieces. Jack really seemed to get a kick out of feeding me, as if it was a completely absurd thing for a baby to feed his mommy.



Mission accomplished! Score one for Mommy.

the union Jack gives in

Jack's hunger strike has ended!

Aku the health visitor is my hero. She came by at noon today for an hour! After asking about Jack's lifelong sleep history and eating habits, she said she thinks he'll be able to sleep again just fine as soon as he starts eating again. And instead of just saying I need to keep trying different foods and textures and tastes (done that) and "persevere" (I now hate that word) like everyone else said, she offered a great suggestion.

She said Jack's throat infection when he had that virus a few weeks ago probably created a psychological aversion to food, since swallowing hurt then, which makes sense. So she suggested that I let Jack play with food without pressing the eating issue, and since he puts everything in his mouth anyway, some food might end up there as well. Brilliant--just brilliant!

So tonight I set out pots of lots of different foods on a splash mat and let Jack go to town. He loved it! He was thrilled to hold his own spoon and feed himself, even if most of his attempts went more into his ear than his mouth. And he let me feed him half a cube each of sweet potato and squash, along with several bites of plum, one or two of pears, and even quite a bit of parsnips! I had thought Jack was still too young to feed himself, but apparently he had different ideas. So in these pictures you can see the joyful result. I'm normally anti-naked baby pictures, but he has a diaper, and I was too excited that he was eating to care. I'm especially fond of the raised eyebrow on the second one. If nothing else, this baby has character.

And as a special bonus today, you get two videos. The first video is of Jack trying to blow raspberries with food in his mouth, and the second one is raspberries with Jack's new characteristic grunt at the end. He started
making this sound a few days ago, and hasn't stopped much since then. He was especially insistent on doing it last night while he was in costume. Though Ben and I tried to explain to him that spiders don't really growl, he seemed to disagree.

We're also taking action on a few more fronts. We may be hiring a housekeeper to come in a few hours a week. And I think Mom and Dad (Nonna and Pops) are going to come over for a week at the end of the month--they actually sound somewhat excited about taking responsibility for the night shift, and since Rich and Stacy will be away in Boston, Ben and I will be able to escape down the hall to an empty flat to get a few much-needed full nights of sleep.

Now let's just hope this means he'll start sleeping better. I'm not holding my breath on this yet as I think he has another tooth coming through (top left, lots of drooling and fussing all day, and he was super-clingy, never letting me put him down), but at least one problem is solved and the other should follow soon.