it's all for you

Gabe is really motoring around these days. Up until last week, he had this elaborate frog crawl worked out. He basically looked like he was doing the breast stroke on land. He'd lift himself up onto all fours, belly off the ground, and then while bending his legs outward, would launch himself forward and land (hard) on his chest and belly. Somehow, he'd always perfectly time it so that he'd have an extra second to keep his hands under his chest and lift his head up, so that he didn't smash his face into the floor. It was scary to watch because you were convinced that at any moment his chin would slam into the ground and we'd be taking a trip to the emergency room, but strangely effective. He got pretty fast and could make it across the living room, through the front hall, across the dining room and into the kitchen, in the time it took me to run to the bathroom. Trust me, he was quick.

We spent the last couple of weeks with his grandparents in California, though, and his grandparents were oddly obsessed with eliminating his unusual crawling behavior. My mother would walk above him, hunched over, holding him up under his chest and trying to get him to crawl like a traditional baby. She'd also crawl alongside him, DEMONSTRATING, and then crawl behind him forcing his little knees to stay in the proper line of motion. This is a woman who hasn't done a lick of exercise in a couple of decades, so for her to be crawling on hands and knees beside Gabriel, meant true dedication. Her grandson would crawl appropriately, damn it, if it was the last thing she did.

I ignored her the first week, because it seemed hopeless to me. Josh and I rather love his unique crawl, and he'd been crawling like that for a month and a half, and the pediatrician assured me that this was his form of crawling, one amongst maybe 25 accepted forms of crawling. Sadly, though, one day last week, my mom was at work while Gabe and I played around at their house, and he began imitating her proper crawling motions as he chased after a ball I'd thrown. He still reverted to his frog moves when he was in a hurry, but as the days pass, he crawls less and less like the little frog we've come to love, and more and more like a real baby. This morning, I didn't even see the frog crawl at all. I'm the tiniest bit sad about it, to tell you the truth.

Even though he's becoming more proficient in the crawling department, he is definitely still a reckless little bugger. He'll launch himself off of the couch or try to throw himself out of our arms, often with no warning. The other day, I ran into the office with my morning coffee to log onto the Internet, leaving Gabe on the living room floor. It took me 3 or 4 minutes to turn the computer on, sync up with our wireless network and bring up my email. Out of the corner of my eye I saw movement, and turned just in time to see Gabe crawling head first down the step between the living room and the office. I pushed off of the chair to grab him before he flipped himself over. I was able to grab his arms and stop him from his slow motion tumble, and behind me I heard the sound of liquid hitting the floor. My stomach clenched as I made the connection of what had just happened behind me. I sat Gabe up and turned to see a full cup of coffee pouring out of the laptop's keyboard and off of the desk onto the floor. A full, large, hot mug of coffee. As I watched, the laptop made a squeal and a hiss before shutting down.

I lifted the laptop up as coffee poured out of the keyboard, and put it down onto a towel upside down to let the liquid drain out. I called Dell so that I could have my nervous breakdown with a professional on the phone, and they talked me through disconnecting the hard drive and all of the removable pieces, and drying it off as best I could.

I was upset about the computer, but what was really pushing me over the edge was the thought that ALL of Gabe's pictures are on that computer. And of course, OF COURSE, I've only backed it up through April. I know, I'm an idiot. The computer is off in the land of technical assistance right now, and the verdict is out on whether it can be repaired. The hard drive is safe and sound with me, and once we get the computer back, I'll be able to connect the hard drive back into the rest of the computer and we'll see whether the computer will live to see another day.

I'm able to sleep these days, because at least I was able to pull the pictures off of the hard drive and back them up. Thank goodness. I couldn't even imagine the alternative, so I walked around in denial for a few days until we were able to confirm that the pictures hadn't been fried.

I do these things as a reminder to all of you to BACK UP YOUR COMPUTERS. Probably you all already do that, because you're smarter than I am, but I like to think of myself as generous like that. I do stupid things so that you don't have to. You can thank me later.

rockin' the rykas

If you're anything like me and looking to lose a couple (ahem, FIVE) extra pounds, check out my new review of rykä sneakers. Some new sneakers might just give you that extra motivation to hit the exercise circuit.

Plus, rykä and the Parent Bloggers are giving away free sneakers and apparel!!! Check it out!

danger, danger, everywhere

When I was pregnant, I wandered around with long lists of everything that needed to get done before the baby arrived. There were purchases to be made, and people to contact, and electrical outlets to baby proof, and rooms to paint. At the time, people kept insisting that I'd have LOADS of time to get everything done after the baby was born. I'd have so much free time that I wouldn't know what to do with, and in that free time, I'd totally want to traipse off to furniture shops and crawl around on my hands and knees and screw in new non-electrocuting outlets. Apparently, those people's experiences with a baby was really different from my experience with a baby, because I didn't have much in the way of free time. Still don't, actually. Fortunately, I didn't listen to them, for the most part, and I insisted on getting Gabe's bedroom ready and we bought the electrical outlets and Josh changed them, and I bought cushioned covers for the coffee tables and toys for when he got a bit older.

Unfortunately, I did listen to those people a little bit, so instead of following my gut and picking up what I thought I might need in one visit to super baby store, I figured that I'd have time later. But what no one tells you, is that one day you wake up and your completely non-mobile baby is chasing the dogs around the room. The next day, that same baby notices the DVD player and the VCR and shoves his fingers inside of them over and over and OVER. The day after that, in the time it takes you to pee, he is 3 rooms across the house and playing with the dogs' food and water. It's all shocking and fabulous, and on the one hand, you are terribly proud, and on the other, you think "holy shit! What happened to my baby?"

Now it has been a week, and I find myself wondering how you keep your babies safe. How do you keep them alive? How do you make sure they don't pitch face first into the edge of the steps, or down the basement stairs, or electrocuted because they are chewing on the cords of the breast pump?

I watch Gabe like a hawk all day long. I rarely leave him alone, except maybe to jet to the bathroom for 30 seconds or less, or pour myself a cup of coffee while sprinting through the kitchen, but I swear that he finds trouble somehow. The other day he smacked his eye against the edge of the wall while crawling around, then today he was crawling around the kitchen and pushed on the door to the basement that was closed but apparently not fully latched and in that instant I imagined him tumbling down the stairs to the basement (even though I grabbed him before he was able to get close to the edge), then today at the park he was trying to poke himself in the eye with a stick, and I can keep going, but I'm scaring myself.

So seriously, how do you keep them safe? How obsessive do you have to be? I'm off to super baby store tomorrow to pick up a gate for the stairs and some covers for the DVD player and VCR because I really can't stand to fight this battle 17 times an hour, but how much more should I do? Am I supposed to walk around the house every morning and do a safety check? Will that become second nature?




The thing is, I've never known love like this before, and I'll do whatever it takes to protect this little person. Anything.












********************************************
If you have a minute, stop by and visit Chatty Cricket. She could use a hug today.

milestones

Saturday was the first time I've left Gabe for longer than 3 hours. Even more traumatic, this was the first time I've ever left him with someone other than Josh, because when I left for those 3 hours, Josh was with Gabe. Josh had a work-related outing to Six Flags New England, and my inlaws agreed to watch Gabe for the day. We drove out to the Berkshires on Friday, settled Gabe in with the inlaws, and Saturday morning went to Six Flags to meet Josh's co-workers.

My dreams on Friday night were peppered with these terrifying story lines where I'd be forced to abandon Gabe under these elaborately unrealistic scenarios, and I woke up repeatedly in a cold sweat. When the alarm finally went off I wondered briefly why my night had been filled with those nightmares, and then, DUH, it was rather clear.

Of course, in preparation for my first time away from Gabe, he proceeded to get his first fever ever, his first accompanying cough ever, he has been adamantly refusing bottles, and he has his first case of separation anxiety. In Spanish, we call it "mamitis", otherwise known as "utter refusal to be satisfied with anyone other than mama". It's been a big ol' party around here.

Gabe was fine, obviously. He woke up briefly at 8:45am, just in time for me to feed him before walking out the door. I put him back down to bed right after feeding him, thinking that perhaps he'd play quietly for a bit before getting up for the day, but my inlaws told me that he slept until 11:00am! He ate cereal for them, something he'd been turning down from me, and took most of a bottle. He showed off all his little tricks- crawling, babbling, laughing and dancing. He took his regular naps, ate again, played again, took another bottle from them. In short, he was a total angel.

Let's be honest, though, I was kind of a mess. Theoretically, I'd been somewhat looking forward to our first day away. I normally like roller coasters, and the thought of being responsible for nothing besides consuming loads of fried foods seemed like fun. Once the day approached, however, I became far less enthused. It seemed like an awfully long time to be away from Gabe, especially with people I wasn't even friends with, and I was nervous about Gabe being with anyone other than the two of us. My inlaws are fantastic, but still, they're not Josh or me.

Saturday was in the 90s and humid, and it turns out that I may be getting old for roller coasters. After 3 rides, I was too sick to go on anything else, so I spent the rest of the afternoon in a bit of a funk, missing my baby and counting down the hours until we could go home. I also brought my friend, the breast pump, along with us to the park, so I spent a chunk of the afternoon in a hot car pumping away.

I did enjoy the pizza and fries and chicken fingers and soda, and I enjoyed spending time alone with Josh. It's been a while since we were unaccompanied by our favorite side kick. We talked about him most of the time, but we also talked about trying to get away for dinner or a movie together one of these times when we can take advantage of the grandparents as babysitters. I think it'll be a while before we do this again, though. I missed Gabe too much to be away from him again any time soon.

maybe 29 just isn't a lucky number...

Gabe rang in my 29th birthday by getting his first fever. His first cold whatsoever, really, and I guess I should thank my lucky stars that it didn't happen until 7 months, but when you are in the thick of it, it is hard to think about the positives.

I should have known that something was up because we spent all of Thursday and Friday night awake and screaming (Gabriel, that is, not me, although I wanted to). This should have clued me in, because Gabe is a lot of things (stubborn, strong-willed, cute as a button), but he isn't a screamer. Thursday and Friday night were, without a doubt, the worst nights we've had so far in the time since Gabe was born. Even when he was a newborn, he might fuss or yell with displeasure, but he never screamed uncontrollably, and I never had trouble settling him down. Thursday and Friday night gave me a dose of serious empathy for anyone whose baby is a screamer. It is really, really, really hard to maintain your sanity in the wee hours of the morning when you just can't make your baby happy. I found myself talking sweetly to Gabe in his room, while trying to settle him back into his crib. Then I'd come back to my room and hear the screams starting up again on the monitor, and I'd start cursing into my pillow.

I tried everything. We walked, we rocked, we attempted sleep in my bed, we attempted sleep in the guest room bed, we attempted sleep in a chair, we sang, we even tried Tylenol thinking that perhaps it was the teeth, but nothing worked. I was up and pacing for most of the night, trying anything to make him happy. During the day he seemed okay, but just a tad out of sorts. Nothing I could put my finger on, so I went back and forth wondering if maybe all of it was behavioral. Could my baby become spoiled just like that? Could his personality change overnight?

Isn't it funny how when you are going through a rough phase you are so quick to assume that this is it FOREVER and your life is destined to be this hard for eternity?

Anyway, we had big plans to have my 29th birthday celebration in this seaside town in Massachusetts called Rockport, and I had requested lobsters for lunch or dinner. So, of course, we woke up on the big day with a fever. Nothing terribly high, but definitely a fever, and a runny nose. Things rapidly went downhill from there. At it's worst point, Gabe had a fever of 104.7, and I was ready to toss him in the car and drive to the emergency room, and only the fear of having to undergo painful tests kept me from doing it. I just didn't know what was normal and what wasn't, and I didn't know how high a fever could go and what might happen.

We ended up giving him a lukewarm bath for 20 minutes, dosing him with Tylenol, and the fever started receding right after that, thankfully. By that time, I'd spoken with the pediatrician on call, and she said that as long as Gabe acted normal (which he did), then we didn't need to worry. Fever was just a symptom, not dangerous in and of itself.

It was a long day, and a longer night, and on Monday morning I dragged him into the pediatrician's office, confident that he must have an ear infection or teeth or SOMETHING, for the love of all things. During our 15 minute visit, though, Gabe was charming and sweet and smiley and hugged the doctor and cooed, and generally appeared completely and utterly well, to the point that the pediatrician asked me several times whether I was sure he'd had a fever that high, and where did I take his temperature (rectally, unfortunately), and was I sure the thermometer worked, and was I sure I'd done it correctly?

Suffice to say, that apparently this was a vicious 24 hour bug, and Gabe has shown no ill-effects since Sunday night. He has been a little cranky, but without a fever and generally in good spirits, except for his absolute refusal of any form of food that doesn't have to do with the breast. No solids, no bottles, no nothing. Just the boob. All the time.

This would be fine, except that over the last few months we've settled into a routine where I pump enough milk for one bottle a day and Josh feeds him that bottle at bedtime so that I can occasionally (read, very seldomly) go to a movie or to run errands, or go to the bathroom uninterrupted at bedtime. In order to get that bottle, though, I will pump over a couple of sessions the night before, maybe one at 7pm and one at 10pm, or something like that. That also means that my boobs don't make quite the quantity of milk that he wants to drink at bedtime in a single feeding. That also also means that we are kind of screwed.

He feeds and then I figure that he is still hungry because he refuses to go to bed, and I wait another hour to give my breasts a chance to make more milk and then he feeds again and is exhausted enough that he finally falls asleep, but he's been waking up again at 4am (something he hasn't done in at least 2 months) to eat because he isn't getting enough before bed to make it through the night. Needless to say, he is lucky that he is so cute and that I love him so much because he is skating on thin ice here, and I'm exhausted.

But it's just a phase, right? He isn't going to refuse to eat anything but the boob until he is 17 and leaving for college, right? I had to turn down my first invitation this month to go to the movies with my girlfriend because Gabe wouldn't take a bottle tonight! 2 hours of mindless, lovely, non-demanding movies, with popcorn and soda and maybe even candy. It is a tragedy, really.

I did get an excellent birthday present this year, a little early. On Wednesday morning, I realized that I was out of things to wear. My uniform these days consists of 4 pairs of capri pants that I purchased in 4 colors, basically the only pants that fit, plus white t-shirts that I rotate through, also the only tops that fit. But on Wednesday, I was out of luck because somehow I'd forgotten to wash any of the pieces of the uniform. On dumb luck, I figured that I'd try something pre-pregnancy to see if I could squeeze into it and..... drumroll please.... I did! My pre-pregnancy jeans! And not even my fat jeans! My regular ones! I ended up fastening them with a safety pin, though, because I figured that after lunch I might want to cry if I wore them buttoned, but WHO CARES! Pre-pregnancy jeans! On my post-pregnancy body!

Happy birthday to me, indeed.

summer perfected

Last night Josh's cousin was playing in a high school baseball game, so I cooked us a quick dinner, packed up all of Gabriel's bedtime paraphernalia, and we all headed over to the baseball field.

The weather was perfect, a cool summer evening, warm enough for shorts and sandals, but not hot at all. We spread out a blanket on the grass and sat watching the game, admiring our sweet baby asleep in his stroller and recalling high school memories. Josh's cousin just graduated, and we traded stories back and forth about that magical summer between high school and college, where your plans were laid out for you, and for once you didn't worry about resumes or applications or grades, and there was total freedom.

I worked at a movie theater that summer after graduation, and was allowed to bring friends to see any movie at any theater in my district. That was the summer of lounging around all day, and then packing up picnic dinners and driving a packed car to the drive-in movie theater every weekend. I knew I'd be moving to Boston come September, and there was this amazing feeling hanging over me of freedom and limitless potential and excitement. So very much excitement. When I see Josh's cousin these days, he has that glint in his eye.

The game ended and as we were driving home, we passed an old-fashioned ice cream parlor packed to the gills with people enjoying the perfect summer night. With just a glance at each other, Josh did a u-turn and we threw caution to the wind. So what if it was the baby's bedtime? So what if Josh had to work in the morning? I had my first sundae in years. YEARS. Complete with sliced bananas, hot fudge, whipped cream and a cherry. Josh had a sinfully rich sundae with malt balls, malt powder, french vanilla ice cream, whipped cream and a cherry. Gabe had peas with brown rice, but thankfully, he doesn't know the difference.

I bounced Gabe on my knee as Josh and I chatted over our ice creams, and I couldn't help but wonder how we got so lucky. We were close to our home, and after a quick change of clothes and diaper, Gabe was settled into bed for the night, just an hour after his regular bedtime. Of course, as retribution for a late bedtime, he woke up in the wee hours of the morning looking for an early breakfast and some snuggles. Still, I think last night will be one of my favorite nights of this summer, sleep or no sleep.

I definitely hope it isn't my last sundae of the summer.

busy busy bees

Every day I glance longingly at the computer, and then I glance down at my scooting-around-the-room baby, and I sit on the floor with him instead of blogging. And then you know how it is, you feel embarrassed because you haven't written, so you don't write, and then you feel even more guilty and embarrassed, so you still don't write, and then it's been ages and you can't even remember what it was like to write regularly, and why did people read what you wrote anyway? But the truth is that I love looking back on my past posts and recalling what my life was like during that period of time. Plus, I love hearing from all of you. Therefore, I'd better find a way to get back into the swing of things.

The truth is, I am loving my life so much these days, it is hard to take the time to sit down and write about it.

Gabe is fabulous, wonderful, glorious, and so much fun. He is smiling and laughing and trying to crawl. He gets up on all fours, rocks back and forth, and then launches himself in the direction of whatever he'd like to reach. It is all cute, of course, until I turn around to find him chewing on the power strip. Or when I was chatting with a friend at lunch and he'd swallowed half of a paper napkin, and then spent the next hour spitting up chewed up chunks of napkin (I felt like a fabulous mother that day, for sure). His favorite target is the dogs, of course. He adores those darn dogs. He saves up his best smiles for them, and waits anxiously every morning until he hears the click clack of their little nails, and then he busts into this absolutely scrumptious grin and bounces in place. He still dances all the time, but now he occasionally waves bye-bye and "gives us five" too. The day before yesterday, he learned how to close a book, and now he'd much prefer to close the book every time I turn the page than read the actual pages. He sleeps through the night most of the time (except last night, of course), and waking up to that sweet smile is the best wake up I've ever had.

I couldn't be prouder, honestly. I also couldn't possibly love him more. Until tomorrow. Somehow, tomorrow I always love him more.

Things have been crazy around here, as usual. My mom was visiting for the last month, and we went to Montreal and Quebec City for 5 days a few weeks ago. Then Josh turned 30 and I threw him a surprise birthday party, which is surprisingly difficult to coordinate with a 6 month old in the house and a nosy husband. Then Josh's aunt offered us her beach house for a weekend, so we were away for that, then we went to the Berkshires to visit my inlaws for a weekend, and now we're back to regular chaotic life.

I have loads of pictures to share with you. Wait until you get a load of these thighs (Gabe's, not mine). He is a whopping 19+ pounds of delicious rolls and dimples. I keep hoping that the crawling won't thin them out, because I really do enjoy munching on them.

new product review up, and NEW BLOG!

If you're a closet Internet doctor, like me, and love to Google your different symptoms, I think you might enjoy my new post about The 24-Hour Pharmacist.

Also, if you could use a $50 gift card from CVS, leave a comment on the Parent Bloggers site on The 24-Hour Pharmacist post for a chance to win.

Let me know what you think!

someone should make me president of our neighborhood watch

A couple of weeks ago, I was on my way to a friend's house and discovered that my car had been "broken" into. I say "broken" with a bit of sarcasm, because it turns out that Josh left my car doors unlocked. I walked into the car to discover the driver's door open, all the compartments in the car hanging wide open, all the bags thrown around, and $20 missing from my visor. The thing is, my sunglasses were still there, none of the cds were touched, and strangest of all, the thieves hadn't touched my stroller (which was in the back of the car). I called Josh to make sure that he hadn't tossed my car for some odd reason and then to get his advice on what I should do.

It seemed so silly to call the police for a missing $20, plus I assumed that the thief or thieves were likely teenagers who got lucky with an unlocked car. Josh agreed, so I cleaned up the car, made sure nothing else was missing and then went about my merry way.

A few days later, I heard through the neighborhood grapevine that my car was one of many, many cars in the neighborhood that was robbed with the same details. Unlocked car in an unlit driveway, items missing. I seemed to be the luckiest of the group, because some people reported laptops, wallets, navigation systems, cell phones, and briefcases missing. I also felt rather guilty about the fact that I hadn't reported the robbery to the police since these were clearly patterned crimes, but by now it had been over a week and it seemed silly to call then.

Fast forward to last night, I'm sleeping in my bed, around 2am. I suddenly bolt upright in bed, wide awake, because I realize the car is unlocked again. So I did the logical thing, which was to get out of bed, go downstairs, get the car keys, and walk outside, in my nightgown, at 2am, to see if the car was actually unlocked and whether it had been broken into already. Why didn't I just lock the car from inside and check in the morning? It made total sense to me that I needed to know right then if someone had broken in, so that we could call the police at 2 in the morning. Let's chalk this up to lack of sleep, okay?

Anyway, I open the front door and walk outside, in my nightgown, and hear this humming sound. I didn't recognize the noise, but figured that it must be a neighbor's air conditioner that I'd never noticed before. I got to the end of my driveway before I realized that the humming sound came from a black car parked directly in front of my house. A parked car with the engine running. And a GUY sitting inside the car.

Now, at this point, most of you would have gone back inside, right? You wouldn't just continue on to your car and check it, taking your sweet time before going back inside, would you? Especially not with a strange man sitting in front of your house in a suspicious car with the engine running, no?

Guess which one I did?

I finally go back inside, lock the door, go back to bed and realize that I should probably mention all this to Josh. I wake him up, and we both crouch in front of the window, spying on the guy and discussing what we should do. We finally decide to call the police. I then proceed to turn all the lights in the house on to try and find the phone book to locate the non-emergency number for the police, because hey, I'm trying to be discrete. I can't find it, so we call 911 and I give all the details to the emergency operator.

There is a whole flurry of activity over the phone- they are asking me for a description of the guy, I hear the radio going crazy, another officer reports that he is right around the corner, we hear a car racing down the street to our driveway, and at this point, I have visions of being able to proudly recount to all my neighbors how I single-handedly caught the car robbers with nothing but my nightgown for protection. And then the policeman comes back on the line to let me know that the car is an undercover officer in an unmarked car. Which makes sense, because I guess if you were a robber, you would likely leave once you saw the resident awake at her house with the lights blazing and her husband glaring at you out of the bedroom window.

All of this to say that I called the cops on the cops. I am such an asset to my neighborhood, obviously. Our email group has been making suggestions left and right about how we can fight back against these robberies, like calling the police and the mayor and putting up fliers. My suggestion? We could actually start LOCKING OUR CARS, since all of the cars have been left unlocked with valuables inside. Shocking concept, I know.

Things are exciting in my sleepy suburb these days. I can hardly stand it.

doing the conga

Apparently, training two dogs has come in quite handy. Now we've moved onto training Gabriel to do tricks on cue. If anyone starts a Conga line at our next wedding, he's ready to go. Next, we're going to start working on the Hava Nagila.

worst mother ever

My inlaws came to visit today, and my mother in law picked up Gabe to hold him for a bit. He promptly started to chew on her hand, and within 5 minutes of her arrival, she says, "Hey, I feel something in his mouth!" I wrestle him down, pry his mouth open, and lo and behold, there is AN ACTUAL TOOTH. Already out of the gums. Exposed. External. Broken through
the skin.

I AM HIS MOTHER, AND I NEVER NOTICED THAT HE WAS TEETHING A TOOTH.

If you come over and look in my medicine cabinet, you'll find that I have daytime baby oragel, and nighttime baby oragel, and infant tylenol and infant motrin. In my fridge I have 4 teethers, and in the freezer I have one. Do you think I gave him any of these? Do you think that when he woke up at 1am, 3am, 3:15am, 3:30am, 4am and 7am the other night, that it even occurred to me that he might be teething? Friends from my new moms' group complain left and right that their babies are teething, and I sat here thinking, "boy am I glad Gabe isn't teething."

Someone should call child services on me. I suck.

Of course, now that my inlaws are here, today Gabe acted like a complete fuss pot, as if to demonstrate that it is obvious to any random bystander that he is teething, and I am a negligent mother that never noticed.

So we have two options here:
(1) Worst mother ever.
(2) Best teether ever, who gives no indication that he is teething.

For the sake of my delicate sensibilities, I am opting for option 2. I already feel guilty enough.

gratuitous mention of breasts included

My blog emailed me yesterday. The email suspiciously came from Josh's email address, but he disclaims any responsibility from said email. The blog berated me due to my lack of posting, and said that although it knows that I've been quite busy fulfilling a certain 5 month old's every desire, I still need to find time to post. Clearly, my blog is right.

I have a good excuse for not posting, though. Up until last week, Gabe was an eater. He was a very good eater. I never worried about breastfeeding or his growth or weight gain because he loved to breastfeed. Instead, my problem was how to get him to stop breastfeeding to do other activities, like play or sleep or interact with anyone besides my breasts. Josh has been calling me The Bartender for months now because I so often have a child hanging off of my body. For the first four months of his life, it would often take him upwards of an hour to complete a meal. And he ate every 2-3 hours. You do the math.

Until last week. While we were in Rochester, I happened to be a bridesmaid in the wedding, which necessitated me leaving Gabriel for the first time in Josh's care for longer than 45 minutes. I pumped several bottles, left before he woke up, and was able to be with him again starting at about 4pm. At which point, he refused to breastfeed. REFUSED. By refused, I mean that he pitched a fit whenever a breast was thrust into his face. A fit complete with back arching, yelling and turning his head away from me. The first time it happened, I assumed that he was tired and overwhelmed from the action at the wedding. The next day, I assumed he was tired and overwhelmed from all the traveling. The day after that, I assumed he was pissed that we drove back from Niagara Falls to Boston in one day. When we were home and safely ensconced in his favorite chair in his bedroom, I started to suspect it might have something to do with the actual boobs.

I freaked.

I consulted Dr. Google, who assured me that this was a perfectly normal nursing strike that could last a few days or up to 2 weeks. TWO WEEKS. I freaked some more. I called a lactation consultant, contacted my friend who has nursed 3 babies, I even went down to our neighborhood maternity store to ask for advice. The bottom line was that I couldn't give him any more bottles, no matter how mad he was, and eventually, EVENTUALLY, he would eat. The pediatrician assured me that he wouldn't starve if he didn't eat for a day. Easy for him to say.

So that's where we've been since the Saturday before last. Trying to convince this little bugger that what he really really wants is to nurse, but looking completely nonchalant about the whole thing. It takes serious skill to try to offer someone your breast every 15 minutes while looking totally uninterested in whether he accepts or not. I feel like I'm back in college trying to win Josh over. Things are definitely improving, though, and now I usually only have to dangle my boobs over his face a couple of times before he accepts. Gabe, I mean, not Josh. Josh usually accepts on the first try.

The good news is that other than this eating situation, we're doing really well. Gabe is actually sleeping most of the night, without eating, sometimes from 9pm to 7am! This is a dramatic improvement from our previous schedule of waking up at 1am, 4am, and 7am. I actually feel like a human being most days. He has also become ridiculous cute, and I mean RIDICULOUSLY cute. He smiles at everyone and everything, and thinks that most of what I do is hilarious. Sing a song? Hilarious. Clap your hands? Hilarious. Feed the dogs? Hilarious. My self esteem is through the roof from all this encouragement.

Josh started his new job last Friday, and for the first time ever, I've been the one to watch him go off to work while I stay home. It has been strange, to say the least. Now I'm just trying to figure out how to get things done while also taking care of my cutie.

What's new with you?

5 months

Dear Gabriel,

Every month I look back on how you've changed in 4 short weeks, and I feel stunned. At some point, the growing has to slow down, right? You're still my sweet, easy, loving baby, but now you show your likes and dislikes more. You love to take walks around the neighborhood and you love to take baths and you love it when we cover you with kisses. Thank goodness, at least some things stay the same! You found your toes earlier this month too, and your favorite thing to do is shove all your toes into your mouth at once and have a munching session. Nothing, honestly nothing, could be cuter.










This month has been another busy month of traveling for you. We flew to San Francisco to attend your first family wedding for one of your cousins, and you met most of your extended family.










You charmed the pants off of them, of course, and we now have loads of pictures of you being hugged and squeezed by various cousins. After a weekend in San Francisco, we drove to Lake Tahoe to spend a week of celebration with your Bubbi and Saba, Aunt and Uncle and cousins, for your Saba's 60th birthday celebration.












Once we were all celebrated out, we drove back to Sacramento to spend another few days with your Nonna and Nonno before flying back to Boston. A week later, we drove to Long Island to spend a few days with some friends, and then on to Rochester, NY for your mommy's college roommate's wedding, and then on to Niagara Falls for a quick escape. It has been a whirlwind. Thankfully, you weathered the travel like a champ.










This month you did a glorious thing for your Mommy and Daddy, you started sleeping through the night. You still have good nights and bad nights, but for a couple of weeks in a row, you've slept from 9pm until 6am or 7am. The funny thing is that I feel more tired now than I did before. I think the true extent of my exhaustion has finally sunk in now that I'm sleeping more than I have over the last 6 months. When your morning wake-up time finally rolls around, I love running to your room to see your sweet face looking up at me. It is the longest stretch of time we spend apart each day, and I miss you desperately while you're in the other room.










That is the other big change in our lives- you moved to your own room! We were resisting moving you, but while we were in Lake Tahoe, it became abundantly clear that we were waking you up at nighttime with our deep breathing or tossing and turning. One of the nights we were away, your Daddy got a cold and you were up with each and every one of his coughs. So when we were finally home, we moved your bassinet into your room and you slept through the night for the first time that very night. It surprised me so much, I kept sneaking into your room to check on you! Since then, you've transitioned to your crib because you weigh more than the bassinet allows, and every night, you happily go to sleep with your blanket bear and a few kisses.










You're changing so much, sweet boy. You laugh all the time now, especially at the dogs. You'd been away from them while we were in Lake Tahoe, and when we arrived at Nonna and Nonno's house where they'd been staying, you took one look at Murray and cracked up for 10 long minutes. Your Daddy and I couldn't believe it! You were laughing these huge deep belly laughs, and it brought tears to my eyes. You also think your Daddy is hysterical, far funnier than I am. He also makes you crack up with these adorable giggles when he munches on your neck and stomach. You definitely adore your Daddy and light up when he walks into the room.










This month was a big month for our family because your Daddy graduated from business school! His graduation marks the end of his 5 months at home with us, and he's finally going back to work after 2 years in school. It has been wonderful to have him home all the time and we're incredibly grateful for this time we've all spent together. After all this time at home with the two of us, he knows you so well, and you love him to death. You two started having Boys' Nights At Home this month while I go to the movies or out to coffee or to run an errand and you both love it.









These 5 months have been the best time of my life, and I wish I could slow time down because you are growing up far too quickly.










I love every little bit of you. I'm so lucky that you're my son.

Love,
Mommy

our newest stage

I know I've complained about the dogs before, especially our recent bouts with jealousy and the baby. I have to admit, though, this little laugh makes all that annoying stuff totally worth it.



If you make it all the way to the end, you'll also get to hear Murray's patented snort. He makes that noise all. night. long.

Seriously, though, doesn't that laugh make you want to cry? The sweetness melts me. I'll do whatever it takes to get that laugh.

By the way, this video is taken in a hotel in Rochester, NY, because we've been traveling AGAIN. I am in dire need of a couple of weeks at home, and hopefully I'll be able to get those over the next month or so.

talk about being disconnected...

Life with a baby is tiring, I've discovered. Most days I feel fantastic, head over heels in love, wondering how life could get any better. The next day, I might be exhausted and overwhelmed, dreaming about one complete night of sleep, trying to figure out how I am going to stay awake until 9pm. I guess this is typical, but it makes for a lackluster blog, I'm sorry to say. I started and stopped about 4 posts about how little sleep I was getting, but they all seemed so boring, and I was so freaking tired, that I never finished any of them, and now it all seems to complicated that I feel exhausted just trying to think about writing it all out.

Suffice to say, Gabe used to sleep, then all of a sudden he didn't. It got to the point that he woke up every half-hour to forty-five minutes for two days straight, and I almost lost my mind. I talked to a friend of mine, who in grand fashion scared the ever-loving daylights out of me by saying that I'd officially screwed Gabe up forever and he'd never sleep again, so I instituted Baby Boot Camp. Baby Boot Camp is just a fancy way to say that I finally put together a schedule for Gabriel. He'd been going to bed and waking up at any old time, and I guess that wasn't working for him.

Now we get up at a reasonable time, take 3 naps a day (at least), and try to go to bed at a reasonable time. This way, he is in a better mood, and he sleeps for longer stretches at nighttime. He also eats more in the daytime, which he hadn't been doing, a fact that I'm sure was contributing to the lack of nighttime sleep. We also instituted a blankie/lovey (a fuzzy brown blanket with a bear head and feet) and convinced Gabe that he really did want a pacifier. All those things helped.

We're back in California, though, first for a wedding, then for a week of travel with the inlaws in Lake Tahoe, and now for a few day of visiting my parents, and his schedule is all screwed up again. So what am I doing? I'm up at 2:30, of course, writing this blog post, instead of sleeping. It's what all the cool kids are doing, didn't you know?

In all seriousness, though, life is good. Gabriel is wonderful and sweet and adorable and all cooey and smiley and delectable. He has extended his skills to being able to put all his toes in his mouth, and he spends a good chunk of the day loudly slurping on his big toe. It is one of the cutest things I have ever had the pleasure of seeing. Josh graduates from business school on Saturday, and I can hardly believe that we've made it through his two years of school. Two years without working, two years of me supporting him, two years of not knowing what our future would be. I am so proud of him.

I'm also trying to figure out my own future, and that has been weighing on me these days. I have moments of crushing insecurity about what I should be doing, both with my career and with Gabriel. Why didn't anyone tell me what a whirlwind motherhood was? Or maybe you did and I just didn't listen. Someone slipped it in when they told me to try to sleep before he arrived, right? I'm working on a blog post to parcel through all my thoughts and get yours. We are flying back on Thursday, and I'll try to put that together soon.

In the meanwhile, I hope that you are all doing well, and that everyone's mother's days were wonderful and sweet. Gabriel came through in grand style, and got me a lovely card that made me cry. A necklace too, but best of all, he's been giving me great gummy smiles and slobbery kisses and those are worth more than everything else combined.

rrrrrrr... a parent bloggers review

Parent Bloggers Review

I grew up speaking Spanish. In fact, Spanish was my first language because my parents didn’t speak much English when I came along. I learned the little bits of English that they knew from them, and then learned more in school and of course, from television. I went through different stages during my childhood of refusing to speak Spanish or being embarrassed to speak Spanish in front of friends. When I was 10, though, we took a trip for 3 months to Argentina to visit all of our family and friends, and since then, I’ve been enraptured with the language. All of a sudden, I realized what being bilingual meant. Since then, I’ve worked to keep up the language, including studying there in high school, college and law school, each for a semester. I’ve tried to get back to Argentina whenever possible, and Josh even took an immersion trip to Costa Rica 2 years ago in the hopes that he’d be able to speak Spanish fluently in the future.

It appears that Gabriel is also working on being bilingual. At least, he’s been gargling and gurgling so much, that my mother in law asked me the other day if he was practicing rolling his r’s. I doubt that, but I certainly have been working to make sure that he will also grow up bilingual. And trust me, this is harder than it sounds. I have to remind myself constantly to speak to him in Spanish, even when Josh is around. I have also been buying books and music CD’s in Spanish so that when we read and sing together, he will constantly be exposed to the language.

When the Parent Bloggers asked me to review the Boca Beth language program, I was excited. Gabriel is still too young at 4 and a half months to give me much of an indication as to whether he likes the products, but I tried them out myself to see what I thought. The Boca Beth set that we received included a DVD called “I like animals”, music CD, coloring activity book, Boca puppet and maraca. All of these products come in a set that retails for $29.99.

The first thing we tried out was the musical CD, along with the props. I tried mimicking the songs from the CD with the Boca puppet. Gabriel was a fan, and I agreed that Boca was pretty cute, with bright colors and ease of maneuverability. The maraca was also a hit with Gabe, although his rhythm was a bit off. The CD had 15 songs that included phrases in both English and Spanish, often directly translated one after the other. The same song might include one sentence in English, followed by the same sentence in Spanish, or vice versa. The songs were catchy and not too long, and I was able to get through a few of them before Gabriel lost interest (not bad for a 4 month old, I’d say). I didn’t love the CD, though, mainly because I would have preferred a full song in each language, or at least a full section of each song in the different languages. Since almost every sentence was in a different language, I thought it could be a little confusing for a non-native speaker. I worry that it might not be totally clear whether each sentence is a repetition of the previous sentence in the other language, or whether it is just a continuation of the song. I did think the songs were fun for kids, though, and as long as you were clear on how the songs were structured, you’d definitely learn Spanish from the CD.

The DVD won me over, though. Gabe doesn’t watch TV yet, but when he does, I’m sure he’ll love the DVD. I believe that the best way to learn another language is by seeing language in context, live and in action, and that is what the DVD does. The DVD is interesting enough to keep a child’s attention, and included quite a bit of vocabulary and language. The DVD’s description boasted 200 vocabulary words and 85 phrases. Not too shabby for one DVD, that’s for sure. Animals are featured throughout, with their names in both Spanish and English, along with descriptive sentences in each language. I also loved the fact that Gabriel will hear grammar and other words besides just the names of the animals. I may even try to imitate that structure when I teach him other words in Spanish and English in the future.

The coloring book was cute, but definitely too old for a baby. I did show it to my 7 year old nephew and almost 4 year old niece, and they both seemed interested in learning the different Spanish words featured in the book. I was pleased to see that the products will apparently appeal to a broad range of ages. Once Gabriel is old enough to understand a little more, I suspect we’ll be using the whole set of products for quite some time.

My overall feeling about the products is that they will definitely come in handy if you’d like to introduce a foreign language to your child. Obviously, they can’t do it all by themselves, but the DVD and CD could certainly spark an interest in Spanish in your child. All the products appear to be entertaining for children, and I’d definitely recommend it to friends.

If you’re interested in checking out one of the Boca Beth sets, leave a comment on Parent Bloggers for a chance to win a free copy!

4 months

Dear Gabriel,

This month you've been on a roll. Literally. First you rolled from your stomach onto your back while visiting your Bubbi and Saba in Florida. Since then, you've repeated the trick a couple of times. Then you rolled yourself from your back to your stomach while I was trying to change your diaper. You kicked your feet up, got yourself onto your side, then stretched out your legs quickly, and your momentum carried you over and onto your stomach. Frankly, you looked a little shocked at your new position. So was I. The other day I walked away from the couch where I'd laid you down, and came back to find half of your body hanging off of the edge. I guess that is why everyone warns you never to leave your baby unattended. Lesson noted.









This month has been full of new experiences for you. You got to spend quality time with each of your grandparents and your aunt for the first time in your short life, and you got to meet your uncle and cousins for the first time also. Your cousins loved you, of course, and kept fighting over who would be allowed to hold you and when. I suggested that you all take a bath together, and I've never seen them move faster. Your Bubbi and Aunt spent every night making you laugh out loud- big guffaws of laughter at their antics. Your Nonna spent her every available second making you smile and smothering you with kisses. You are so very loved, sweet boy.









You went to the beach for the first time, although you didn't actually touch the sand or the ocean. Baby steps, I say. You did go swimming in a pool with your Daddy, though, and based on your reaction, you might have been a fish in a past life. You oohed and ahhed at all the new sensations. You spent time barefoot in Florida, and stared for minutes on end at your toes. Your hands are even more fascinating. You had your first outing with your Daddy, and I left you at home for the first time. You also watched some of your first Red Sox games. Your Daddy will tell you that those were your most important milestones thus far.













To be fair, you also made me suffer through some of the worst nights of sleep we've had so far. After all that travel, whatever semblance of a schedule we had was completely lost, and for two weeks straight you progressively woke up more and more often, until you woke up every half-hour to forty-five minutes for two nights straight. It felt like having a newborn again, except that you never slept that little as a newborn! After those two nights, I put you into Baby Boot Camp, and you've been fabulous since. Baby Boot Camp is just a fancy name for a schedule, and you seem very grateful to be waking up, taking naps, and going to bed at a reasonable time. It took your Mommy a little while to learn that our loosy-goosy schedule wasn't working for you. Forgive me, I haven't done this before.









This month I discovered something new, though. Something I should have known all along. Something that I guess was rather obvious. I discovered that you love me and you need me. I'd assumed up until now that although you clearly like me, and of course you look to me for food, you found everyone to be pretty interchangeable. Thankfully, it turns out I'm wrong. You stop fussing instantly at the sound of my voice, as soon as I reach out my arms, before I've even picked you up. I lean down to give you kisses and you open your mouth wide to try and kiss me back. If I laugh at you, you laugh back, deeply. You smile at me all the time. You play peek a boo with me, and duck your head down as if you are playing shy. You are the cutest thing ever, and I wish I could bottle you up to keep you with me all the time.










I can't believe you've only been with us for four months, but I also can't believe that a quarter of a year has passed already. Wasn't I waiting for your arrival just yesterday? You are so. much. fun. Having you in our lives is pure unadulterated, unequivocal joy. I beg life to stand still so that I can burn these days into my memory.

I love you. Your Daddy loves you. We couldn't live without you.

Love,
Mommy

we hate germs

Gabe and I have our first colds today. I've been watching him like a hawk to see if he feels sick, but besides keeping me up all night whining, he seems fine. I, however, am coughing and have lost my voice, and my throat hurts and I feel generally achy. Now I feel like whining, especially about the fact that I got no sleep thanks to my little whiner.

I can't figure out what is going on with him and sleep. I'm assuming that last night's disaster was related to this cold, but we've had some bad nights lately. For a while we were on a great schedule where he would sleep a solid 6 or 7 hours (once 8 and a half!), wake up for 10 minutes to nurse, and then go back down for another 5 hours or so. But for the past week and a half, that schedule has been nonexistent. I'm lucky if I can get him to sleep 5 hours in the first stretch, and then it is 3 hour stretches after that. I feel like we are in the newborn days all over again.

I've tried pumping and feeding him a bottle, and not pumping and breastfeeding him directly. I've tried putting him to sleep in his bassinet and then in his crib. I've tried a blanket, I've tried pajamas, and last night I tried layered pajamas in case he was cold. I've tried putting him to sleep early, and I've tried putting him to sleep late. He seems to do better when I put him to sleep later, and by later I mean around 11pm or midnight, but that seems so absurdly late, I worry that it can't be a good bedtime for him. At this point, I'm thinking that the problem is that his schedule is all over the place. So I think I'm going to pick something and stick with it for a while to see if his sleep improves.

It could also be the fact that we've been traveling all over the place, first to California, then to Florida, then my mom was here, and now she left. Maybe he is thrown off by the number of changes we've been undergoing. I'll let you know if I see any improvements.

In unrelated exciting news, Gabriel rolled over for the first time in Florida from his stomach to his back! It was such a surprise! Since then, he's done it 2 more times, both of them by accident. Then yesterday, he rolled over from back to front! It also looked like an accident, frankly, but I suppose that's how it always starts. He rolled himself onto his side, and then suddenly straightened his legs out and scooched himself forward and he ended up on his stomach. He looked up at me with this shocked look, as if asking, "what just happened here?"

This kid seriously wants to MOVE. It scares me a little, especially knowing that both Josh and I walked at 9 months. I'm planning on knocking him over if he starts trying to stand up. When I sit him in his bouncy seat, he spends a good amount of time trying to pull himself into a sitting position, so it looks like he is doing crunches in his seat. When I put him on his stomach, he flails about madly, trying to reach everything around him and can even get himself to move a few centimeters.

Just to show you that we actually do something besides sit here admiring this baby, Josh got a job. A real job. Which means that when he graduates from business school next month, he will have an actual paying job and I will no longer be supporting the whole family on my own. I am excited, to say the least. The best part of it is that this job was his first choice. Family friendly, interesting work, consulting (which he loves), but not much travel (which we both hate). So things around here are happy happy happy.

Also, now that I've convinced Gabe to nap, I'm able to read more books and I'd love recommendations. I am finishing up this book, and I recently read this book and this book. I loved them all. Suggestions?

I mean, I can't spend all day sitting around staring at this gorgeous face, although I'd like to.

3 months (very belated)

Dear Gabriel,

I'm very late in writing this month's letter, but I do have a good excuse. This month you took your first flight, and then your second flight, and then your third flight- all within three weeks. You visited your Nonna and Nonno in California while your Daddy went to Russia on a school trip, and then you visited your Bubbi and Saba in Florida for the holidays. It's a shame the airline won't give you a frequent flier number for traveling on my lap, because you'd be halfway to a free ticket by now.













I've also been avoiding thinking about this letter, because hitting three months old means that you are no longer considered a newborn. You're an infant now. I'm sure you'll laugh when you can read this, because the difference might seem silly to you. To me, though, it seems like night and day. My blobby, sweet, calm newborn is gone. In his place is a smiling, bubbly, chatty baby. A baby with rolls and dimples, a baby that doesn't have the jerky movements of a newborn, a baby that lights up when I walk into a room.













You laughed for the first time this month. You babble in response to my conversation. You prop yourself up on your arms and kick your feet during tummy time. You've found your hands and watch them intently for minutes on end. One day you could only stare up at your toys, the next day you could swat at them, and the next day you reached up and grabbed them. Watching you is like watching miracles take place. I can almost see your brain making new connections every day, and I am so grateful for this gift.













I guess that every mother thinks her baby is the most beautiful, wonderful, sweetest baby who ever graced the earth, and this mother is no different. I find you remarkable and marvelous and I smother you with kisses all day. I would think you would become annoyed at the attention, but instead you become very still and melt into my arms as I pepper you with tiny kisses. Your Nonna says that you almost deflate in my arms- you obviously recognize and enjoy the love. You've even started opening your mouth as I bend over you to give you a kiss or to press my cheek against yours. You will screech and giggle if I bend over slowly and hesitate before giving you a snuggle.


















Your daddy was away from you for two long weeks while he went on his school trip to Russia, and it was terrible for the three of us to have to be apart. I worried that perhaps you would forget who he was, but the second he picked us up at the airport, your little face lit up and you began your stream of chatter. You love your daddy, and trust me sweet boy, the feeling is mutual. He can't get enough of you.



















I saw one of my childhood friends while we were in California, and she is pregnant with her first child. She asked me whether all this was worth it, whether I liked being a mother. I paused for a moment to answer, and felt my eyes fill with tears. I understood in that second what everyone tried to tell me when I was pregnant, that what awaited her was this magical, amazing thing that couldn't be put into words. I can't wait for her to discover it too.

My life was wonderful before, but this life is incomparable. You've made your father and me so happy. Our days are filled with laughter. Thank you for being you, sweet boy.

We love you,
Mommy

parenting is a humbling experience

I have this thing about babies without shoes or socks. It bugs me. It's a little weird, I know. I'm fine with babies or toddlers barefoot in parks, I'm certainly okay with them barefoot at home or in your yard. When I see babies or toddlers running around Target or the grocery store barefoot, though, or running around in restaurants barefoot, it makes me cringe. Josh finds this endlessly amusing, and is quick to point out any children in the vicinity without socks, just to hear my diatribe on the subject.

This means, of course, that poor Gabriel gets very little sockless time to hang out. In fact,
we were in Florida this week and he became mesmerized by the sight of his toes while we sat outside in the sun. You see, he'd never really seen them before except during changes or baths. He is seriously toe-deprived.

Anyway, we were flying back from our visit with Josh's parents for Passover in Florida. The plane started its initial boarding, and I realized that I'd better change his diaper quickly before we got on the plane without a changing table. I rushed him into the family restroom at the Tampa airport and left Josh with the stroller and the food we'd bought for the flight. I pulled off the bottom of Gabriel's pajamas and unsnapped his diaper and started wiping quickly. I looked to my right to grab the clean diaper and realized that my hands were getting wet. Yup, he started peeing. All over me, all over himself, all over the wall and changing table, including the toy I'd handed him to entertain him during the diaper change. I pulled the dirty diaper out from under him to cover the stream of pee, and heard another horrifying sound.

He pooped. All over me, all over his clothes, and all over the changing table. I took one look at the mess, and pulled out my cell phone to tell Josh to book it over to the bathroom because I needed another pair of hands. In the meantime, the poop was spreading slowly underneath Gabe and across the table. Josh didn't answer, of course, so cursing wildly, I started the slow process of mopping up the mess.

I peeled off Gabe's socks, his onesie, his outfit, I took off the changing pad, recovered the table with paper towels, one-handed I wiped Gabe down and put him back down on the semi-clean table. I scrambled to get the clean diaper on him before he gave me another little present, and then I realized that over the loudspeaker they were announcing the final boarding call for our flight.

There I was, baby only semi-clean, clad only in a diaper, with a hand full of dirty pooped and peed on clothes, with only a diaper bag and a blanket with me, and the emergency change of clothes sitting in the basket underneath the stroller at the gate with Josh.

So I picked up my semi-clean, semi-naked baby, and wrapped the dirty clothes in a paper towel, and ran out of the bathroom and over to the gate, where they were ominously announcing over the loudspeaker that this was REALLY the last boarding call for flight 1861.

And then I boarded the plane. With my naked, dirty baby. All the way down the aisle until our seat. Wrapped in only a blanket, while several people exclaimed out loud when I walked by that my baby was naked. They couldn't smell him, so they didn't know he was also relatively unclean.

All I can say about the whole experience, is that I will never look askance at the barefoot babies again. I have learned my lesson. And a bit of humility in the process, too.