Champion Baby

Over the past weekend Alina did 4 Restaurants, 2 Zoos, 1 Park, 2 Museums, and the film Cosmic Collisions at the Hayden Planetarium. Through all of it she just looked around, being enlightened. She even slept through a really awful rendition of Take My Breath Away from the plug-in piano guy at Restaurant #4 on Mother's Day. And, as it turns out, Alina really likes Egyptian sculptures. Lots of eye candy at the Met, who knew? I think we'll definitely go back there. Lots of diverse shapes, images, and lighting - Alina was enthralled. We stayed away from the paintings and stuck with the 3D stuff like Egypt, Medieval, etc. She was so full of culture by the end of it that she slept all through a dinner for eight.

Cosmic Collisions marked Alina's first movie experience. We weren't sure if it was a good idea at the time, and in hindsight we barely made it out alive. But luckily the (really really bad) film was only 20 minutes long. She made a few grunts when the lights went out and the seats started subwoofing. But we prepared for this by sitting in an isolated section of the theater and Katrina whipped out Lefty. She actually fell asleep, but of course the moon had to be formed via collision and the comets (No! Not the comets!) had to hit the earth. We just held her ears and hoped for the best. It was the first time I felt anxiety from cheesy CGI. I was hoping the Earth would dodge the asteroids. Oh well, we survive.

+12 Weeks

Damn, that went fast. She's already looking at 3 months old. Of course, she grew out of her 3 month old outfits ages ago. People keep warning me to enjoy this while I can. The next thing you know you'll turn around and she'll be One. Yipes. Don't make me think that far ahead, please.

When I come home from work, Alina usually has a new trick or ability to show me. She's like my 24-hour documentary on child development. She does little things that we take for granted. Yesterday she pulled up her shirt. This is new. She never had that whole hand-eye coordination before. Imagine wanting to grab something, but instead of reaching for it, you just flail your arms around. The other day she matched the pitch and vowel sound I was cooing to her. And she recently discovered her thumb. These are the things I find fascinating, other parents consider old hat, and non-parents couldn't care less about. So I guess these are all for Katrina and me.

When she was first born, a friend asked if I yearned to see her when I was away and if it was love at first sight. At first, the answer was honestly no (although I think I told them yes). That part of my brain hadn't turned on yet and I thought I was a bad parent for not loving and yearning yet. The thing is, when she was first in my arms, I didn't think Love. I thought, If anyone hurts you I will fucking kill them, rip their arms off, and set them on fire. So clearly the protective instinct was well in place. But now, 12 weeks later, the best parts of my day are when she smiles at me while I'm getting ready for work, and when she smiles at me when I come home.

A Muffin Basket Full of Rainbow Kisses

"How's the baby?" I hear this question about 8 times a day. But it's not one of those questions you can answer with another question like "Wassup?" It took me a little while before I realized no one expects an actual answer to that. A simple Wassup in return will suffice. But, with the baby question, people actually want to know how she is. Happy/not happy, sleeping/not sleeping, gaining weight/losing weight. Geez. I feel like I should walk around with a sandwich board draped over me giving Alina's weight, last sleep pattern, biggest poop to date, and behavior nuance. People no longer ask me about anything else - politics, opinions, activities. I am a 24/7 Alina update machine. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to do it. But when I get the chance to hang out with a friend they're surprised that I'm not talking about her. It's because I talk about her all day to people at work, relatives on the phone, etc. I'm never at a state where I've got pent-up stories and I'm just busting to tell someone - so shoot, you're stripes, I'm solids.