St. Patrick's Day is an enchanted time -- a day to begin transforming winter's dreams into summer's magic. --Adrienne Cook

Here are a few pictures from Lucy's first St. Patrick's Day. We awoke to a gloriously sunny morning after days and days of cold rain. We later celebrated a traditional Irish dinner with close friends/neighbors. Even though Lucy is too young to understand the significance of the day, she still makes an adorable little Irish lassie, don't you think?

Adults Say the Darndest Things

As an antidote for my sugary post from yesterday, I thought it might be fun to showcase a collection of the random, bizarre, and not-so-nice comments from random strangers over the past year. For some odd reason, being visibly pregnant or lugging an infant around seems to encourage this behaviour. Now, for your enjoyment, here are a few of my favorites along with my response:

-"You're only 8 months pregnant. Wow, you look like you're miserable, but you've still got a ways to go."--Really? Do you really think I'm not keenly aware of how many weeks, days, hours and minutes I have until the biggest moment in my life? Until my hips stop aching, my ankles return to their natural size, and I can see my feet again?

-"I know YOU guys are going to have a big baby. "--Ok, so both Jamie and I have put on quite a bit of weight since marriage. However, both us of were small kids. And, both of us can still give our thinnger counterparts a run for their money when it comes to exercise. The bottom line: don't tell expecting parents that their kid is gonna be a pounder!

-"Wow. She's a BIG baby. Did you have her, well you know, naturally? You poor thing."--I kid you not. Multiple people said some sort of variation of this comment. Just for the record, it's never, never ok to say that to a new mother. The implications, while unstated, are just a bit too personal.

-"Oh my goodness. She has so much hair. (And then to me) You don't have that much hair. (And then to Jamie) You don't have that much hair either. I wonder where she gets it from?"--Hmmm...Honestly, I wasn't sure how to respond to this one. Was she implying that both of us have thin hair? Or, was she implying that we look like like a couple of cases of male and female pattern balding?

Actually, I know that the above offenders are all well-meaning, perfectly lovely people. But what is it about babies that makes complete strangers forget all decency and say such wonky things? Any thoughts? Feel free to share from your own experiences as well!

Baby Magic Tricks

Each day is a surprise. We never know what tricks Miss Lucy has up her sleeve. In the past few days, she's begun waving. Mind you, people other than Jamie and I might not make out that it's a wave, but if you look closely, you'll see it. She holds her little hand up and wiggles her fingers with a slightly astonished look on her face. I think she's just as surprised as we are.


She's also become quite the swimmer. Or perhaps I should call her a water acrobat. Last night while bathing her, she was squirming around like a jelly worm. Before I knew it, she had managed to turn herself upside down and around in her baby tub. As I tried to grab the kitchen faucet from her hands, she reached for the dish soap. As I grabbed the dish soap, she grabbed the hand soap. While trying to rinse her hair, I noticed she was sucking on a mouthful of soapy washcloth. As soon as I took the soapy rag from her hands, she began smacking the water with both hands in baby exhilaration. What could be more fun that spraying towers of water all around the kitchen?

The excitement never ends!

Babies Are the Universal Language

I'm sure that everyone reading this blog knows that I'm no shrinking violet. I love conversing. What I've noticed since Miss Lucy's arrival, however, is that I no longer initiate conversation. No, on the contrary, strangers of all ages are drawn to us like a magnet to a refridgerator, like white on rice, like a moth to a flame. You get the point. I'm not completely surprised by these turn of events. After all, most everyone loves a sweet little baby. I suppose what continues to amaze me the most is the intensity of these brief moments.

One of the most touching encounters we've had was shortly after Christmas. I noticed an older woman eyeing Lucy. Knowing that she wanted to speak, and never one to shy away from conversing, I made eye contact and smiled. "Oh what a little doll," she said. "May I touch her? I have clean hands!" Now, on most occasions, the thought of anyone beyond my approved circle of friends touching Lucy would send me into panic mode. The germs, the germs! Yet I found myself saying, "Of course." Her husband was nearby smiling at Lucy as well. As she gently brushed Lucy's hair, she said to him, "Oh.... What wouldn't you give for ours to be this age again for just one more day?" As she looked at Lucy, I know she wasn't seeing my little green-eyed pumpkin, but her own children now grown and most likely with children of their own.


Not long after, Lucy and I were awaiting a lunch meeting with a company board member at a trendy downtown restaurant. Although I was supposed to arrive sans baby, a series of unexpected events proved otherwise. Already tense as I was uncertain that this new colleague was "baby-friendly," my apprehension grew after we were seated. When I say trendy restaurant, I'm referring to one of those restaurants with minimalist decor and minimal space. The restaurant where the patrons sitting next to you are close enough to elbow. As I looked out the window for my lunch date and tried to keep Lucy occupied, our waiter came over to take the obligatory drink order. When I looked up, rather than inpatience or indifference, I saw a friendly face. "Hi there little one..." he said to Lucy as she grinned at him in toothless glory. Fortunately, my lunch date was indeed baby friendly, even holding Lucy so that I could scarf down a few bites. About mid-way through the meal our waiter came back over and asked if he could guess how old Lucy was. I found the question just a tiny bit odd, but told him to go for it. "About 7 months?" he asked. Surprised at how close he was, I told him that she was indeed 6 and 1/2 months. "I knew it," he said as he launched into a story about his own daughter. He couldn't believe how quickly she had grown up. He and his wife were divorced. His ex had taken his little one to Wisconsin, allowing him to see her only once a year. Just a few days before, he'd had to take the now 4-year-old girl back home after spending one beautiful month with her. He'd treasured this time and was having difficulty adjusting to his deafeningly quiet life now that she was gone. Again, as he looked at Lucy, he wasn't seeing my baby. He was remembering his own little girl.

After he walked away, my lunch companion remarked "Isn't it amazing how babies break all barriers and social conventions?"

Just the other day, while attempting to finish this post, I had yet another of these conversations. This time with my stock broker over the phone. I hadn't intended to take his call. Lucy was in the midst of chatter time, rapidly moving into pre-dinner fussy time. As we began discussing the deplorable state of our economy, I suppose he heard Lucy chattering. He asked me her name and age. And just when I thought he was simply making polite "stock broker/client" conversation, he told me that he and his wife had recently undergone IVF--again. It hadn't been successful he said with a hint of sadness. I wasn't sure what to say to him other than I'm sorry. But he recovered and shared that they had a new arrival in the form of a little puppy named Chloe. We laughed as we commiserated about our mutual lack of sleep.

Recently, I've been thinking more and more about my colleague's comment. Everywhere we go, people interact with Lucy. But it's more than just surface chatter. It seems that babies stir a need for connection from deep within. Is it something about their sheer innocence and vulnerability that allows us to get past the artifical, societal boundaries we get so caught up in? I don't have the answer, but I see this as just another way Lucy has enriched my life in ways I couldn't imagine.

Lucy's New Favorite Word is...

Da-Da! Though her mommy is a bit jealous, she's excited to hear her little one's rapidly expanding vocabulary. In addition to A-Ba (Lucy's favorite word for weeks and weeks), we now say Da-Dad-Da-Da over and over again. And even though it's probably wishful thinking on her mommy's part, she thought she heard a "ma-ma" as well. Jamie and Jennifer are quite confident that they have a future linguist on their hands. If not a linguist, then perhaps a reporter. Lucy's definitely a nosey, talkative little girl!

In other exciting news on the baby front, Lucy had her 6 month check-up last week. She's now in the 98th percentile for height (28 inches!) and in the 66th percentile for weight (16.97 lbs.). She's quickly outgrowing her clothing. Jennifer sees a future of high-waters for poor little Lucy. Overall, she's a happy baby girl who never meets a stranger. Right now, her favorite activity is jumping in her rainforest jumperoo. She LOVES this contraption, and begins jumping the minute her parents put her in it. Jamie and Jennifer wake up and go to bed with the sounds of laughing monkeys, a wailing elephant, and a catchy little keyboard tune playing over and over again. Good times!

First Snowflakes

Today, Lucy finally got to see her first snowflakes--an unexpected delight.

The drive up to Maple Creek Farm in Burnsville, NC for the maple syrup tour was gloriously sunny. But as got closer to the farm, Kirbie remarked, "Is that snow?" Before we knew it, the sun had given way to clouds. Small white specks of snow quickly turned into larger puffs of cotton. By the time we pulled into the rough gravel parking lot of the farm, we had entered a winter wonderland. We huddled by the wood stove as the maple syrup bubbled. When we could take the cold no longer, we all darted back to the car, but not before snapping a few photos of Lucy's first glimpse of snow!

A Happy Valentine's Day

Yesterday marked a special occasion for our family--Lucy's first Valentine's Day. Let me just start by saying that I'm a sentimentalist for this the loviest of all lovey dovey days. I think it probably has something to do with the fact that Nanny and Mom always made it an event for us. I still remember vividly the Valentine's Day when Patrick and I got our bed tents as a present. I don't know if any of you remember these brilliant contraptions, but they fit neatly over twin-sized beds all across suburban America allowing wimpy kids like us to camp out in the comfort of our own bedrooms.

Every year close to Vday, we would go down in Nanny's basement and she would pull out a little Valentine from the 1930s that she sent as a young girl to her Dad--a man known as a "wanderer,"roaming the country, finding odd jobs. This colorful little card signed "To Daddy, Love Mary" had the fun message "Don't say skee daddle when I say I love you!" She'd share the story with me and I always loved the fact that she'd saved this card after so many years--one of the special memories she had of her often absent father. She always loved Valentine's Day. Each year, until she passed away almost 3 years ago, she would send me a Valentine.

I suppose it's these disjointed, yet fond memories that leave me excitedly purchasing white doilie cutouts and oodles of conversation hearts.

This year, I was excited about Valentine's day, but for a different, new reason. It would be Lucy's first Vday. I've been prepared for over a year, having purchased the mandatory "Baby's First" bib for this occasion. Sometimes I'm certain that those greeting card holiday manufacturers are also in cahoots with the baby bib makers. The next thing you know, there will be bibs for "Baby's First Summer Solstice," etc.

Of course Lucy's school also went all out for the celebration. Though I complained about having to put together Valentine cards for the infants--yes all of the infants in her class exchanged cards...In fact a few of the mothers even went the extra mile wrapping up little bags of biter biscuits--I secretly reveled in it. I was thrilled to go through her little bag of Valentine's signed by the parents of her little friends. And her teachers had even put together a Valentine with her picture on it for us. So sweet!

Until last week though, I hadn't really given much thought to what we would do to celebrate Lucy's first Vday. A close friend of mine always spends Valentine's Day with her husband and kids. She makes dinner (complete with a heart-shaped meatloaf), and sets a formal table with Valentine decorations. Over the years, they have created a special occassion that they look forward to year after year. And now, I've stolen her idea (Thanks, Linda!).

This year, we invited our friend, Kirbie, to join us for dinner. I put Lucy's Vday bib on, set the table, hung my heart-shaped doilies, and broke out the "real" dishes. No, we didn't have champagne, but we drank out of our flutes anyway. As we ate, I had one of those moments of joy, the moments where I feel a squeal about to escape my lips but I stifle it for fear of scaring those next to me. Lucy ate her organic winter squash (might I add in her new highchair purchased on Vday) while we dined. After putting Luce to bed, Kirbie and I sat on stools in the kitchen, dipping strawberries, bananas, and pretzels into the most decadent chocolate fondue you can imagine. Later, we joined Jamie in watching a documentary on Appalachia. At close to midnight, Kirbie headed home and we went up to bed. As I lay there, almost asleep with Lucy's little feet against my elbow, Poods at my feet and one hand touching Jamie's hand I thought, "What a perfect Valentine's Day."
Yes, I know some people would be horrified at the thought of such a night. And perhaps I used to be one of them. Not go out for Valentine's Day? No flowers and chocolate? No dressing up and dining out?

But our day was perfect. What could be better than sumptuous chocolate, conversation with good friends, and snuggles from a magical little baby girl? Not much, I say.