Monthly Archives: August 2011

In Place of the Crying


Lately there’s been significantly less crying and a lot more of this going on:

We’ve been getting tons of beautiful smiles all week and now Tay’s starting to realize there’s a world outside of bottles and blankies.

"I heard that. Shut up and give me my bottle, woman!"


Pete and Repete Were on a Boat


Something I’ve become an expert on since being back from the hospital is daytime television in Belgium.

Which, for the most part, sucks.

I’ve found myself watching series I never had any interest in in the US because it’s either that or infomercials. I’ve even found a couple I sort of like (The Guardian, True Blood, Grey’s Anatomy). But something I’ve now picked up on, being that I’m often awake now at 4 in the morning, as well as 2 in the afternoon and 9 at night, is that here in Belgium, not only are the series on television repeats (as in old seasons), they are 24 hour repeats. As in, the CSI: Miami I watch at 8 in the evening is the exact same on playing at 3 am and 11 pm the next day.

Suffice it to say I’ve now managed to memorize countless episodes of shows I don’t even like. I think one of the hilights of our upcoming trip to Pittsburgh will be getting to see all of the fresh, new reruns.
Or at least the reruns from my favorite shows.


And here you thought this post would be devoid of baby. Psych!

In The Rhythm


Tay is seven weeks old today.

Obviously he’s still quite a handful and I find I never have enough time in the day to everything I ought to be doing. As it is there’s a pile of burp rags that’ve been sitting in the bedrooom to be folded for a week now and here I am blogging in the small window of time where Tay is sleeping soundly by himself.

But aside from never finishing anything I start, for all else, we’re starting to really carve out some routines now. Tay eats every 3-4 hours, depending on whether he gets breast milk or formula and he’s finally, finally sleeping about half the night in his cradle. For the first several weeks he refused to sleep anywhere but on my chest at night. Granted, he’ll only sleep in his cradle or playpen if he’s nestled in his nursing pillow, but still. He’s sleeping alone and on his back for 2-3 hours at a time, which he refused to do for the first month or so.

Also in the past couple days he’s become increasingly entranced with his mobile and he smiles more and more at Piet and I. He’s also beginning to burble in response to our talking and attention.

It definitely takes the edge off of the crying jags and sleep deprivation to see a big smile on that round little face.
I guess you can’t truly understand how frazzling being a first time parent is until you actually have the experience, but in our little corner of the planet things are starting to come together very well.

28 Days Later


You are still a challenge.

More so than those first few days where you mostly slept.

Now you’re developing your own rhythm, appetite, needs.

No matter how much I wish I knew, I can’t always surmise why you’re crying, I just know my heart breaks when nothing I do seems to make it better.

One month old and I would already sacrifice my own air just to stop you from shedding a tear.

The way you pout just before you let out your first wail is like a knife in my chest.
If you ever learn to use that pout I’ll be in a lot of trouble.

The way you smile, even though it isn’t on purpose yet, melts me into a puddle. Nothing makes me feel as joyful as seeing your lips curl up that little bit as you sleep or stare at your mobile.

You’ve been ravenous this week, demanding more than I’m able to produce, at least right now. You’re growing so fast. Your face has filled out and your hands have become smooth and chubby. Your eyes, when you choose to open them, are wide and bright and inquiring, a dark, steel gray color that I’m hoping won’t change, although I think I’m starting to maybe see some brown here and there.

When you’re staring at the room with your lips pursed into a tiny bow, your eyes big and shining you remind me so much of a little Who from Whoville.

There are times when I’m holding you that I still can’t believe that you’re mine; that there’s no going back to how things were before, only moving ahead and watching you grow and become more of the little boy and eventually the man you’re destined to be.

Every day is a bit different.
No day is ever 100% easy.

But every day that goes by makes me love you more and more.

My cup doesn’t just runneth over…it’s been swept away by your tide.