I habb a code

I'b too tired to be clebber.

One

Happy birthday to me! Today I am 1 month old.

Make it so, Number One

Today, my glider command chair arrived. Thanks, Grandma Natalie! From this sumptuous throne I reign, queen of all I survey. (Actually, given my name, "princess" is more appropriate.) And I love the groovy back-and-forth glidey rocking action.

Four

Happy birthday to me! Today I am four weeks old.

Thanks to Grandma R for the outfit she gave me on her visit. I can make you smile!

I know what I like

Mom downloaded some baby flash cards from BrillBaby.com, and she and Dad have been testing me regularly. I get a point when I look at a card for five seconds without getting distracted. So far my best score is 7 out of 24. Curse you, bright lights!

Innie

The last bit of my umbilical cord scab finally fell off early this morning.

We take our milestones where we can get them.

O Sushi, Where Art Thou?

We took a stroll to our favorite sushi restaurant for dinner. I woke up for a few minutes during the meal, but they still wouldn't give me any hamachi nigiri.

Bye, Grandfolks

Grandma and Grandpa left before I even woke up this morning. Well, before one of the times I woke up, anyway. Bye, Grandfolks! Thanks for visiting!

Swimming in mac 'n' cheese

Rebecca had a birthday party in the back yard today, with a wading pool, paint, and a giant vat of macaroni & cheese. I stayed inside so I wouldn't come into contact with the little germ factories -- with that many toddlers, there's bound to be a cold or six in the crowd.

Somebody to lean on

I spent pretty much the whole day sleeping on Grandma's shoulder. This is the life.

Grandpa had a lot of fun playing We Ski & Snowboard. He might have hinted that Father's Day is coming up.

Happy Birthday, Rebecca

Big sister Rebecca turned 3 today. She had a yellow birthday cake with snakes on it. Moving snakes.  Happy birthday, sis!

We're now the same age, only she's counting in years and I'm counting in weeks.

Please don't spit up on the merchandise

Mom and Dad went shopping for a comfy chair. I helped QA the selection. Then we all went out for burgers and malts.

Some days are more exciting than others.

Do be due

Today I'm celebrating my due date. Does that mean Mom and Dad have to pay overdue fines at the baby library if they don't return me?

Grandma and Grandpa R

Grandma and Grandpa R are here. My first out-of-town visitors! Grandpa says I'm a keeper, but I don't see Mom and Dad letting me go back to Minnesota with him. Grandma talks funny. Like the way Dad talks to me, only she talks like that all the time.

Dad entertained Grandma and Grandpa by showing them this blog on the TV screen. Dad was really boring, but Grandma and Grandpa did a good job feigning interest. I had no such compunctions: I slept through the whole thing. Dad was so pleased at their interest, he's going to make them help triage 500+ unsorted baby photos. Then 1200 pics from his last vacation.

A shot in the dark

Today was my second visit to the pediatrician. I weighed in at 6 lb 7 oz, and I'm now 19.5 inches long. Compared to my low of 4 lb 8 oz on Day 1, I've increased my weight more than 40% in three weeks! I'm now at the 3rd percentile in weight, 10th percentile in length -- catching up after being born 3 weeks early.

I got my first vaccination today, for Hepatitis B. Usually they give that at birth, but Mom and Dad decided I'd been through enough for one day and put it off. I was a little scared, since the needle looked nearly as long as my leg is thick, but it wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be. I still screamed, though. You have to keep up appearances.

No duckie

Mom gave me my first bath at home. It was only a sponge bath, but I still think I should have gotten a rubber duckie. This had better not be the start of a pattern.

Vote

We went down to the firehouse to vote in the special election. Rebecca's too young, so she had to cast her vote under the table.

Where's the ballot entry for "throw the rascals out"?

Six lbs or bust

Another week, another visit to the Newborn Club. I was 6 lbs going in, and 3 oz more than that upon departure thanks to a 20-minute nurse. I know what you're thinking: A 20-minute nurse? Professional certificates get easier and easier to obtain. But the point is, I'm officially a six-pounder now! Mom and Dad threw a celebratory luncheon for me at Applebee's, my first restaurant visit, which I slept through. Miss Esprit de Corps, that's me.

Blondes make the best victims

Of course babies don't all look like Winston Churchill. Some of us resemble Alfred Hitchcock.

One from our files

My flailing fingers at feeding time gave Mom a lot of griffe, so my pointed request to leave my nails raw was rebuffed. Cue Dad, manicurist emerytus.

Food math

Dad fed me 4 ounces of milk from the bottle this morning. At 6 lbs, that's 4% of my body weight. Two hours later, he fed me 2 oz more. He takes good care of me when Mom is sleeping.

I guess he'll expect me to reciprocate when he's old and feeble. Lessee, Dad weighs... carry the 2... Does anyone know where I can find a baby bottle that holds 12 quarts of milk?

A failure to communicate

It's 6:30 am. Two whole entire hours after I've just eaten the biggest meal of my little life.

I'm making all the right signs. Clamping my mouth shut? That means I'm hungry. Clamping my mouth shut and cramming my fists in front of it? That means I'm very hungry. Spitting out the nipple and using my arms to physically shove the bottle away from my face? Get with the program, Dad: This means I am in the final throes of perishing of hunger! And I suppose you don't suck on a nipple when you want to burp, either.

No, I'm not going to move my arms away from my face or open my mouth. I have people to do that for me. No, I can't be bothered to actually suck on the nipple. I have... what do you mean, I don't have someone to suck on the nipple for me? You can't get good help around here.

Sadie's Rules of Food

• At the beginning of the feed, I may perish of hunger at any moment.
  
• After 2.5 ounces, I am only on the verge of starving.
  
• After 3 ounces, I am asleep.
  

Tummy time

Dad put me down on my tummy, which I have to say I do not mind.  After some random wiggling that he interprets as directed effort, I rolled over.  Dad says this proves I am a prodigy. Whatever.

Retail therapy

Mom and Dad took me to Babies 'R' Us for "Sux 'n' Chux" (bottles and diapers).  I don't know why Dad thinks my 8-per-day diaper habit is relevant to my college fund, do you?

Mom bought new glass milk bottles because my Rebecca hand-me-downs contain teh 3v1lZ Bisphenol-A.  Hysteria over this chemical has reached such a fevered pitch that it is now touted as absent in everything from light bulbs to hedgehogs.

But I don't care about any of that.  I just want the heft of good, old-fashioned glass in my hand when a nursery brawl breaks out.

Art day

Art day again! Everyone from last week came, plus Lorenzo and Mazie. There was basket-weaving, and the obligatory shrieking naked 3-year-olds and snarling rats.

Regular expression

Mom's pumping 2 ounces of milk every four hours around the clock. That's what I call regular expression.

Happy birthday to me

Today I am 2 weeks old. Most of my umbilical stump dropped off today, too. Having birthdays is hungry work. I capped my celebration with a hearty course of milk. 14 times.

Some days last longer than others.

Not much to report today. Slept a lot. Got my photo album up. Got my blog up. Even posted a video.

Today was my first time being babysat, I mean by someone who isn't a nurse. K carried me around the house for a couple of hours while my zombies, er, parents, napped.

Grandpa says all babies look like Winston Churchill. I have no idea what he's talking about, do you?

Back in the NBC

It's been four days since my last journey to my native land, so it must be time to visit the Newborn Club at Kaiser Permanente again. At 5 lbs 8 oz, I'm comfortably over birth weight even with pee-pee taken into account.

They have a nursing race for all the moms and babies at the NBC. The volume winner is a 5-day-old boy who knocks back 1.2 oz in 15 minutes. At 0.8 oz in 5 minutes, I win the sprint and the milk/mass ratio as well.

Next, we go upstairs to see the plastic surgeon. He looks pretty flesh-and-blood to me. He said I have one year to learn to do something useful with my tail. If I can't use it to swing from branches or play video games, it'll have to come off.

On the way home, Mom and Dad took me on my very first shopping trip. To Walgreens. What's with that? I'm sure I spoke clearly. What part of Game Stop don't you understand?

Leaving home is hungry work. After we got home, I made sure Mom and Dad fed me every 60 minutes for the rest of the day. Six feedings between 9 pm and 2 am. You have to come over and try the room service here.

Happy Mother's Day

Mother's Day is a special day every year when Uncle Henhuh brings leftover pizza and Massi Santosh brings ice cream and toppings. Happy Mother's Day, everyone! I'd like mine with colored sprinkles, please.

Lazy Saturday

Today was chill. We hung. Dude.

Art day

Friday is Art Day. Rebecca's friends and their moms come over to make a mess with art supplies at our house. Today we had Ellie, Felicity, Anya and Yash. Yash and I are too young, so we hung out with our moms while the big kids arted. As far as I can tell, arting consists of stripping off all your clothes, running around naked, and shrieking like snarling rats are tearing the flesh from your limbs. Come to think of it, I'm pretty good at most of that.

Working on my night moves

One consequence of my late-night drinking binge is it forced Mom and Dad to start working in shifts.  Prior to last night, both Mom and Dad got up for every feeding.  Now, the new pattern is Dad feeds me from the bottle for about 2 hours around midnight while Mom sleeps, and Dad sleeps through the morning feedings between 5 and 7 am.

Hello, Doctor!

Today, Mom and Dad took me to meet my pediatrician, Dr. Krishnan. She says I'm doing all the right things, and I gained another ounce since last night. After they weighed me I peed it all over Dad (and the table, and the floor), but you only have to carry it over the finish line, so I'm officially over my birth weight now. Score!

I'm getting pretty good at nursing. Today I had my first non-supplemented breast feed. Later in the evening, I swilled down 155 ml (5 oz, half of what I eat in a day) from the bottle in 4 hours. Maybe I'm not so good at breastfeeding after all.

To ER is human

Picture Mom and Dad, giving me a dropper full of vitamins after dinner. They stick the dropper in the side of my mouth and drizzle out the sticky, gooey vitamin syrup just like I was a ferret.  You know what happens when you stick something yummy-tasting in my mouth.  That's right, I suck on it.  Only this dropper doesn't dispense through a tiny aperture like a nipple; the whole end is open.  The syrup all came whooshing out at once and I must have gasped because I might have inhaled some.

There was a bit of hacking and coughing and blah blah blah.  I was still a bit wheezy, but give a girl a break: I had treacle in my trachea.  Mom and Dad called up the advice nurse, who wanted to know if they could wake me.  Hello?  Did I mention I had eaten dinner?  Nothing short of amputation wakes this girl after a good feed.

They did wake me, but instead of my customary full-throated cry, all I managed was an indignant snort.  The advice nurse told Mom she could reattach the limb in the car as Dad drove us to the Emergency Room.

Let me tell you, if you want to be seen fast in the ER, there's nothing like the magic words, "The baby has trouble breathing."  But my blood oxygen was good, and by the time we saw the doctor a few minutes later I sounded okay.  After we showed I could scream, poop and eat, he sent us home.

Mom says I get my vitamins stirred into milk now.

Bonus points: The ER nurse read my weight the same as it was when I was born, 9 oz recovered in 6 days.  My other achievement today was my first wet diaper with no poop in it.  I'm getting better at digesting milk solids.

Brraaaiinnnsss...

We've settled into a routine where every time I'm done feeding, Mom sets an alarm to go off in three hours for the next feed but I wake up in two. Each meal takes an hour. Round the clock.

Mom and Dad look kind of zombified most of the time. Dunno why.

My umbilical cord stump is starting to look like its hold on me is getting tenuous. Dad thinks it'll fall off today. Mom won't let him start a pool on it because of the conflict of interest.

Newborn Club

Less than a day after leaving Kaiser, I'm back again to visit the Newborn Club. The first rule of Newborn Club is: Babies don't talk about Newborn Club. I weigh in at 4 lbs 13 oz, up 5 oz in four days. Time to Craigslist the wardrobe again.

Sporting a bra chopped to hold breast shields and milk bottles hands-free, Mom is Lacutus of Borg. She now pumps milk fast enough to keep up with my appetite, and we phase out the formula. Yum yum, smack, smack. Poop graduates from green and slimy to yellow and seedy. It's small progress, but Dad is grasping at whatever straws he can.

Homecoming

After two exciting days and one relaxing one at Kaiser Permanente, it's time to go home at last. I thought I had Dad wrapped around my finger, but he's not coughing up the car keys. The 10-minute ride home passes uneventfully.

I celebrated my triumphant homecoming at the diaper changing station by aiming an explosive poop right at Dad's face. He's got amazing reflexes for an old guy.

Uncle Henhuh and Aunt Santosh show up with cousins Anya and Yash at dinner time, and it's a full house: 6 adults and 4 kids. It is the first time I've seen more people (by one) in a single room than the operating room in which I was delivered.

Yash is my closest kin by age, but we're in different weight categories so we can't wrestle yet.

P.S., Happy 17th anniversary, Mom and Dad.  My present to you is me.

I can has cheezburger?

Mom and Dad begged Jesse and Katherine and Rebecca to come by the hospital. With cheeseburgers.

Rebecca helped Dad change my diaper. If you want to make a three-year-old laugh, just let her watch you poop with your diaper off.

My diet plan is also going well, and we have my first big meal. Tonight's movie is Young Frankenstein. It could be worse: it could be raining.

Mom pumps volumes of milk instead of drops. Mom fightoh!

Chillin'

After the excitement of days 0 and 1, Friday (day 2) was tranquility itself. No visitors, no lactation consultants, no frustrating hours on the boob, just chillin' with the parents.

Milestones today were few. Black, tarry meconium poops gave way to green, slimy formula ones. Dad, a.k.a. Chief Diaper Technician, appreciates not needing a chisel and sandpaper to get the dirty diaper off.

I passed my car seat test. Evidently the nurses have not received the memo that I am underweight and require fattening up, as they believe unanimously that I am going home today. I'm not, but when I do I'm totally making Dad let me drive.

Between feeding and pumping sessions, we watched Baby's First Movie: Blazing Saddles. By coincidence, this is also the movie Mom and Dad saw on their first date, twenty-one hundred years ago.

Finally, Mom and Dad got to sleep before 5:00 am, and for more than 4 hours total, for the first time since I was born. I'll let them enjoy that for now, but they shouldn't count on it.