Snowed in -- and not minding it

It snowed here in the last 24 hours. It probably was not a storm for the record books, but a good several inches with more on the way Christmas day.
What's the young family to do on Christmas Eve, when the forecast calls for a few more inches of snow and skating-rink-like roadways after dark?
Stay put.
So that's what we did. We decided to hunker down with the baby, good food and drink and enjoy a peaceful holiday at home. Plenty of time for hustling tomorrow.
It worked out well. The mild temperature provided us an opportunity to introduce Elise to snow.
And as luck would have it, Santa went to the hardware store today after he was done working and found the best looking sled on the shelf. It's simple, plastic, red, kind of old school. It was an early Christmas gift to the ladies of the house, who were itching to get outside.
After getting pulled in the sled up and down the driveway and around the backyard, Elise seemed to enjoy -- pleasantly tolerate? -- the experience.
You have to introduce kids to snow as early as possible. That's why, after such a promising outing today, I'm taking Elise snowboarding next weekend.
In the meantime, Merry Christmas.

Womb humor

Anni, Bryan and I were doing a little armchair geneticizing today, trying to determine who Elise got her features from. You know, eyes, nose, face, etc.
Then Anni said something that would really leave you scratching your head. She was talking about the seemingly random way babies inherit looks and genetics from family:
"I picture my womb as a slot machine," Anni said, obviously getting our attention.
"Ding! 'You get Grandma's eyes,'" she said, "and Ding! 'You get Dad's ears.'"
If my genetics class in college was that easy, I'd still be a biology major. You can bet on it.

Hanging around

Bryan is home for Christmas break from balmy Las Vegas, but Elise initially gave him the cold shoulder.
It's been four months since they last saw each other. I guess if you're converting baby time, four months is like half of your life. No wonder it took her a bit of time to warm up to him, but they were reacquainted soon enough.
We all had a good weekend. The last-minute hustling before the holidays has begun, but there was plenty of time for lounging, too.

I can't explain it. I just took the picture.

Another bank-busting toy: Plastic tube that makes noise -- $1.89.

There are days when I wish I could do this. (And, no, she's not napping. Just goofin' around.)

There will never be a day when I can do this. At least not comfortably.

House party

Anni and Elise went to Laura's this weekend to make a gingerbread house with Randy and Jacob, who affectionately refer to their cousin as "Baby Elise."

Judging from this photo, it's a bit surprising they had enough candy left to decorate the gingerbread house.

Young candy artists at work.

Only Elise listened when the three were told to look to their left.

Ending 2009 at 20.02

We were at the doctor's office the other day for Elise's 9-month check-up.
We learned a few things, including that she has the preferred amount of "subcutaneous fat." I guess that's the good fat, the healthy stuff, the cute baby blubber. Given that she's already nearly 31 inches, I would have guessed she is below average for subcutaneous fat, but I guess she's right on track. What that really means, I'm not sure. I just like the term "subcutaneous fat" and said it was going on the blog, mostly because I knew how to spell it. So there.
Here's her stats: She was 30 3/4 inches long and weighed 20.02 lbs. All other health indicators they check at each visit were normal: head size, weight for length, length for age, etc.
Cut away all the clinical stuff, though, we left feeling like she's on a roll, growing like a bean, developing her interpersonal and motor skills and all of those things you often take for granted when you see her every day.
"This baby's doing great," the good doc said.

For the New York friends

Elise says thanks for the rug.

Elise, meet Fraser

Elise is digging the Fraser fir Christmas tree in our living room.
She likes the lights -- and whatever ornaments she can get her paws on.

'Hey, watch this'

More often than not lately we've discovered this scene when we get Elise after a nap. She has not yet lifted herself to her feet while in the crib, which is good because I still need to lower the mattress.
I'm not sure, but I think she's staked out a spot on the right side of the crib because she's freaked out by the make-shift window curtain visible in the background. Which reminds me: It's about time we get going on finishing the upstairs windows.

Another milestone

The crawler

Elise has been crawling for about two weeks. She has mastered it enough so that she can buzz around quickly without planting her face in the carpet. She follows us around the first floor, but is not thrilled about the tile in the bathroom. It is not heated, and she is spoiled by the heated tile in our kitchen.
In the foreground of the video you will see a stuffed puppy. (Not a real stuffed canine, of course, but that would be the only way a cat would make it in the house.) Anyway, that toy is one of her favorites. We are especially happy about that because it was cheap. But apparently you pay extra for stuffed animals with names, so this one had no name when we brought it home. Anni suggested "Cocoa," which seemed too Miami Beachish to me. So it's called Puppy. Clearly it needs a better name.
After we shot this video Anni pointed out Elise's drab outfit. Yes, I dressed her. I guess she does look a little like a black and tan. Drab or not, those corduroy pants slow her down on the carpet, which is good for those moments when she is eying the low-hanging Christmas tree branches and feeling a little adventurous.

Eyes swayed, so I should have known

When Elise was just days old, she was making a funny hiccup sound while Anni was burping her. I got in real close with the video camera to get that recorded. (We use the video recorder sparingly. Too much work, and I prefer stills.)
I nearly got too close because after doing something strange with her eyes (imagine cross-eyed intoxication mixed with dizziness) she proceeded to puke -- this was not just a little spit-up -- all over herself. Anni burst out laughing and I was just hoping that I got it all on camera. I did. We saved it. She'll see it someday.

----

Elise has been a little "off" the past couple of days. This usually chipper child has been irritable. She has been eating unpredictably, unlike when she usually gobbles up everything with a smile.
And last night was just swell. She was awake every two hours, screaming in a tone (and decibel) we had not yet heard. The only way to quiet her down was to sit with her in a chair. It was a rough night.
It did not get much better for her today at school. She filled her diaper and pant legs and shirt with a chemical compound not found anywhere else in nature. And she did that four times. The medically minded would just call it diarrhea, but this is a blog so we're a bit more creative. (Creative, I said, not necessarily breakfast-table reading material.)
She followed up those four rounds with the need for a dunk in the tub and a fifth wardrobe change at home tonight. That was after we visited the clinic to have her checked out for possible dehydration, but that trip was uneventful and free of any diagnosis. (Did we overreact? You would concur with our decision had you seen the kid; she did not look good.)

----

It was shortly before her bedtime. I was giving her a bottle. She was guzzling the formula at a steady clip. I assumed she would fall asleep in my arms and I would bring her to the crib.
As she killed the bottle, I noticed a few strange eye rolls, but thought that she just was tired.
I should have known better. Those wobbly eyeballs were a sign that something messy was about to happen.
Sure enough, it did. Every ounce of formula that she had just consumed came right back up and out. She soaked herself, my pants and part of the couch.
And then she did it a second time. Frankly, I'm not sure where it all came from.
Anni was grocery shopping at the time, so there the two of us sat. Covered in it, neither one of us moved for a time. That was followed by a hastily prepared bath -- her second of the night -- and several minutes of me wandering around trying to prioritize: Get her in new pajamas? Change my soaked clothing? Try to clean the couch? Call for reinforcements?
That is when I should have had the video camera running.

Not a good 12-step program

I suppose it is time to invest in a gate.
Or, would full-body armor be going too far?

What we're thankful for

Looking back on an extended Thanksgiving weekend and Elise's first real road trip to Chicago (Sorry, Duluth, you're soooo last month), we're thankful that:
-- Elise fell asleep as we pulled out of the driveway Wednesday night. In just over 6 hours of highway time, she was awake long enough to down a bottle and chat for a bit.
-- There was plenty of tasty turkey and sides on Thanksgiving. Oh, and that there were cranberries. I think you might as well cancel the holiday if you don't serve cranberries.
-- The child, who is eating with her fingers, sampled turkey, potatoes and cranberries -- and continued her streak of displaying no apparent food allergies.
-- We got to spend some time with George, who shared a few more classic stories that I'm still chuckling about.
-- She slept soundly that first night at my Aunt Renee and Uncle Fritz's place because, quite frankly, we were beat when we pulled into town about 12:45 a.m. (We've learned that as new parents we have trouble staying awake past midnight. Make that 11 p.m.)
-- Elise only was awake and irritable for about three hours of each of the subsequent three nights because of the pain of a growth spurt. Why are we thankful for that? Well, it could have been four hours a night. In reality, it was a rough few nights only when you compare them to recent months, when she has slept through the night.
-- We woke up at 6 a.m. Black Friday because of a baby and not because we were in pursuit of a Zhu Zhu.
-- We had a great day with some relatives we see just once a year. For me, the post-Thanksgiving soiree marks the beginning of the holiday season.
-- The annual jaunt across Chicago to visit our friends Mike and Anne and their kids continued this year. Good pals, good times. (And yes, you two, we promise to crash at your place next year.)
-- The Wentes traveled in caravan to Chicago -- we in one vehicle, my parents in another -- because as much as we enjoy time with my folks, we do not need to spend six hours down and six hours back pretending we're in a Shanghai subway at rush hour.
-- We drove instead of hopped a flight. Why, you ask? Well, you can't lob poo-filled diapers at the "Pay Toll Ahead" sign from an airplane.
-- We were able to share (show off?) a very happy baby with family and friends.
-- Aunt Renee pulled it off once again, making it an enjoyable stay.
-- Elise sometimes is all about the simple experience, like sitting in a rest area lobby for 10 minutes with Dad while Mom waited in the car. That gave the parents a much-needed break from each other during the drive home.
-- We only needed a short break from each other on the way home, because Wisconsin rest areas are only interesting for 10 minutes -- kind of like Wisconsinites.
-- We pulled into the driveway Sunday afternoon thinking, "Hey, that wasn't so bad. Actually, it was a good trip."

The family on Thanksgiving.

The ladies.

All eyes on the newest member of the family.

Huh. I wonder where Elise gets it.

The Royal Family may have the throne, but we learned recently that the Winters have the "formal bib," a familial relic worn by Anni and her two sisters at holidays when they were young. It was given to Elise this year and, judging by how snug it was around her neck, only this year.
I kept thinking the frilly collar was mashed potato that missed the target.

She got a kick out of riding in a swing at a park near Mike and Anne's house.
We got a kick out of her hair whispies.

Top Chef

Ahh, cheese, she's getting old

We reached another milestone this morning: Elise is starting to dabble with real food.
"The cottage cheese in the fridge is for Elise, not you," Anni said.
That's fine. Just don't ask me to share ice cream yet.

Mobile baby -- almost

Elise hit the 8-month mark late last week and to celebrate she crawled to the front door, opened it and made a break for the hinterland. She only came back because she forgot to bring extra diapers.
OK, so not quite. However, we predict she will crawl within a month. Which means we have a month to start baby-proofing the house. We will not turn this place into a rubber room, but those steep stairs -- yeah, they're getting a gate. Or two.

More Pollack than Monet

That's our daughter: jaw-droppingly fascinated by a plastic paintbrush.

The great pumpkin

Credit goes to my dad's cousin, Leslie, for the pumpkin costume. Good thing Halloween comes in October, because this little one would have burst through the feet of the pumpkin outfit if the holiday was a month from now.

Hey, look, it's the 21st century Village People. OK, so it's the costumed cousins. Elise is with Jacob, wearing a homemade Kyle Busch costume (Jacob is a fan of NASCAR -- and M&Ms.) and Randy, outfitted as a Transformer. (I should know the name, but was too busy with He-Man and Legos as a kid to watch Transformers.) You know who's bringing the Halloween fright? Rainie, Jenee and Greg's dog, dressed as a banana.

Now that's a Nuk.

Time -- It's not on our side

In a house where sleep is coveted more than ever before, the end of daylight savings time sounded like a welcome event.
Set the clocks back an hour. Swell idea. An extra hour of sleep for the parents, more rest for the baby. Everyone's happy come Sunday morning, right?
Well...
Turns out that even if you set all of the wall clocks in the house back an hour, the baby's biological clock doesn't spin backward as easily.
We woke up this morning thinking it was 6:30 because that's what the clock said and I had made sure to set the alarm clock back an hour last night. Elise woke up and did fine for the first half hour or so. Then we realized that, no, it in fact was 5:30 a.m. when we got up because somehow the bedroom alarm clock got screwed up, while Elise actually woke up at her normal time, 6:30 a.m., or what would be her normal time if not for the end of daylight savings time, but that meant it was an hour earlier for us.
I still get confused trying to figure this out.
The end result after only a one-hour time change: A baby who spent most of Sunday tired and ticked off, and two exhausted parents who cannot figure out why a one-hour tweak got us all out of whack. (You can scratch the seven-time-zone-spanning family trip to Europe off the list for a few years.)
You know, some states do not recognize daylight savings time. That seemed ridiculous, but after today I'm thinking Minnesota ought to follow suit. And please, let's make that happen before spring, when we otherwise will have to figure out how to set alarm clocks and biological clocks to spring ahead.
I need a nap just thinking about that.

Random video

If you listen closely, you can hear Raffi in the background. Yep, Raffi.
More on music later.

e=mc(scam)

I remember one thing about guests shopping for kids' books at Target when I worked there way back when.
They either wanted a classic -- something like "Goodnight Moon" -- or they wanted the new and supposedly genius-producing book.
Well, I hope those seeking the latter have a receipt to go with their disappointment. Check this out.

Words to play by

Elise is well into the grab-anything-within-sight stage, so we're having to move plates, glasses, picture frames and other household items out of her reach.
She is particularly fond of reaching for the TV remote, the iPod and my cell phone.
In response, Anni came up with a good phrase, even if Elise does not understand it yet: "If it's black or gray, it's not for play."
Look around you and think about that for a moment; it makes perfect sense. In our house, that puts off-limits electronics and remotes, my camera, the phones and music equipment. Oh, and the black-handled Wusthof knives in the kitchen.
Yeah, I would say that's a good policy.

Old tradition, new additions

We made it a tradition: Anni and I would head out to the orchard each fall for apples -- and so Anni could tell stories of when she had worked at the orchard years earlier.
Several years passed and then we started inviting our pals Dan and Erin to wander with us among Regents and Cortlands. It always was a good time for the foursome, and I would get my share of apples, apple donuts and cider.
And then there were five.
Last year was Dan and Erin's daughter Avery's first apple expedition. Again, a good trip, and I got my fill of cider and donuts.
Now, there are six.
Today was the annual orchard trek. Considering that last weekend the ground was covered in snow and it was sleeting just a couple of days ago, today's highs in the upper 50s, sunshine and a breeze made for stellar conditions. The apples and donuts weren't bad either.
Elise would concur -- about the apples, at least. It was her first apple trip with Dan, Erin and Avery, and she spent most of the orchard visit gummin' a juicy Haralson.
The '09 expedition highlights:

Elise does not give up easily.

Camera flare from the sun. Darghh!

Four at six

Here are our favorites from Elise's requisite six-month photos.
OK, so technically they are seven-month shots -- by a day or two -- but the first attempt at home-studio photography didn't go well, so a second was needed. Why not do the second right after the first? Well, you have to wait for a seemingly impossible pairing: good natural lighting and a happy baby. She was quite happy -- until this photo shoot got old, as you'll see.
(A quick note: I'd be remiss if I didn't thank Maxine for the pumpkin hat. It's getting lots of use.)

Back to Old English -- and not the polish

A brief departure from normal blog topics:

One of the many anecdotes sure to be included in my yet-to-be-written-but-always-threatened childhood memoir is what my Dad would say when Bryan and I were verbally lazy and slangy: "English is such a wonderful language. Why don't you use it?"
I thought of that tonight after Anni strongly suggested that I drop the occasional use of lazy English on the blog, even if it's conversational and used for a certain effect.
"It belittles everything else you do on there," Anni said, protesting my recent use of the word "'cuz," among other grammatical nightmares.
Anyway, her point was well taken. In fact, I always thought of this as your go-to site for highbrow, scholarly passages. Consider, if you will, this literary gem from an entry about Elise's bath a few months ago:

Everything was going swimmingly -- until someone had a bowel movement in her bath chair. I told Anni that we're definitely parents now when we have an exchange like this:
"There's crap all over the bathtub," I said while cleaning the tub.
"Well, it's one less diaper to change," she said.

Highbrow, indeed. Now back to writing about the baby.

In one ear...

The photo does not suggest it, but for the past four days we have been caring for Captain Crankypants.
Elise just has been acting out of sorts. Happy one minute, unusually fussy the next. Content to play by herself if you tell her you're walking across the room, but royally peeved if you just get up and walk across the room. Drinks a bottle of formula, then insists on turning the bottle into a chew toy. Asleep for a few hours at night, then awake and screaming.
So at the clinic's urging, off we went Monday for a visit with Elise's pediatrician, who Anni and I are growing quite fond of for her compassionate-without-the-frills approach.
The doc stuck the otoscope into Elise's right ear, then into the left ear.
"Well, her left ear looks fine. Her right ear doesn't look fine," she said.
You guessed it. She's got her first ear infection, or otitus media for all of you who dig medical terms. That, of course, explains her rough past few days.
The doc prescribed an antibiotic -- the ubiquitous amoxicillin -- and sent us on our way.
However, no trip to the clinic would be complete without a stop on the baby scale. At seven months, she is 18 lbs.
What's the mean, 18 lbs? Well, one way to look at it is she now weighs more than the heaviest ball allowed in regulation bowling. Huh.

They're posted because I like them

A sign of intelligence and...

The other day Elise figured out how to open the door to the entertainment cabinet. (Those Swedes at Ikea can give you mediocre furniture at a reasonable price, but don't expect it to come with child-proof devices.)
It was interesting to watch as she tried to pull open the glass door.


Then you second-guess that sign of intelligence, if only for a moment, when all she wants to do is play suction cup with the window.


Just stay away from stop sign poles in the winter, kid.