These Days

These days I seem to be hoping for a lot of things.  I hope for knowledge. I hope for wisdom. I hope for a sense of peace within.  I hang on so tightly to the temporal, forgetting that desire causes suffering and when I don’t get the material wants I so desire, I suffer (see how that works?) 

I sometimes forget to count my blessings.  I really have so many. For one, I have a husband who is the most generous and thoughtful man I could ever want. He is kind and funny and he loves me, worts and all. Second, I have a delightful little boy who makes my heart sing. Family who loves me, friends who care for me, a best girlfriend who will be blessed with a joy of her own (who I hope will make her heart sing).  I’m a lucky woman. 

But I get so caught up in the daily run.  I forget that I have a choice in the way my life goes and when I don’t, G-d knows, right?  G-d can see the next turn around the bend.  If only I could let go.

Right now, we’re in the week between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur (the reason I probably love fall so much.)  The days between celebration and repentence are simply glorious!  On Erev Rosh Hashanah, I spent services with my parents, and my friend Jane.  My husband was in class and Ben, being notorious for a nightly 8 PM meltdown, stayed at home with Miss Sara, his baby-sitter.   I was, for the first time in a long time, completely immersed in prayer.  I sat between two wonderful women. The engery of women in prayer is astounding (one of the aspects of Orthodoxy I actually do like).  That’s not to say I don’t like praying next to my husband, but when I’m in prayer next to women it’s as if without a word we are actually praying with each other.

I wish I could describe the way Rosh Hashanah feels to me.  The singing and the prayers…when I hear them, my breath catches in my chest and if I’m not careful, as I exhale, the tears will coming pouring forth.  I truly believe that each of our souls expresses itself in a way beyond words. I think mine tells its story through music and when the cantor begins to sing, my mouth opens and a voice that isn’t entirely guided by my mind flows up to G-d.  It’s like magic.

These days, the days of Awe, I’m stretching again.  I’m growing within and without myself.  G-d does great things and I can feel a change coming.  I don’t know when, but it’s like it’s in the wind and I’ll admit change scares me.  But until then, I wish you a l’shana tova, sweet and enduring, with pleasure abounding and just a little bit of bitterness to remind you that you’re still human.

PS - I know I owe you guys a Nine Month letter to Ben. It’s coming! I just need to download some photos first.

Big Things…I tell you! Big Things!

I’m on the fence about whether I should talk about a new thing I’m doing these days. I always seem to get so jazzed about a new project and how exciting it is that I run out and tell everyone I know about it. Once everyone knows, they start inquiring about how the project is going and I suddenly feel this be rush of pressure and the nagging thoughts of OMG, I’ve got to be perfect at this! Valedictorian!  Since I’m only on week 2 of this endeavor, I’m pretty concerned about sabotaging myself so I think I’ll keep it under my hat, but just know that big things are a comin’.

On another note, I think I’m having an existential crisis. Go ahead and laugh. I’ll wait. Tick…tock…tick…tock.  Finished?  Okay, so perhaps “crisis” may be a little severe. How about existential wake-up call. Let me explain. I don’t know who I am or what I’m doing or where my life is going and I think it’s based on how I define myself.  I’m ready for a redefinition.

I think I’ve had enough for now of the occupation field I’m in. I don’t think I want to be known as an “Event Planner” anymore. It’s a good job; don’t get me wrong. But I’m not sure it’s the right one for me. As I tend to do, I wrote a “Pros/Cons” list. Here are some of what I’ve come up with. Pros: pays very well, lots of flexibility, stable, good benefits, great colleagues, morally neutral industry, autonomy, and there’s a cafeteria on site.  Cons: cyclical, not enough staff, boring for about 70% of my year, lots of “piddly” tasks, not enough excitement (I’m a crisis junkie), generally a “beige” job, morally neutral.

I’m commited to put in until my five year mark, so I’m not ready to jump ship yet, but I’m thinking of my next move. I have a pretty good idea of where I want to go next, but it’ll take some time to get there (that’s fine with me).  It’s a career you do because you love doing it. It has the potential to pay well but it’s very stressful, physically and mentally.  You get a lot of excitement (if you choose) or you can choose to have a set routine, but it’s what you make it.  Best of all, there is the potential for working full time only three days a week and having the rest of the time off (i.e. spend with Ben and baby #2, when he/she arrives.)  I’m not naive enough to say that this next self reinvention is going to be the last, but I’m ready for a change.

In a small way, I’m hoping that what I do for a living will give me some insight into who I am.  I know that all manner of experiences are what make one who she is. So within that definition, I’m so many things: woman, mother, wife, educator, innovator, writer, athlete, activist, champion, chef, philosopher, counselor, creator, orator, theologian, artisan, child, sister…event planner.  But I’m ready for something else. Something to help me create another facet of purpose and meaning to my life.

Or maybe I just need an Ativan.

Letter to Ben: Month Eight

 

Dear Ben-Jammin,

Holy cow, kid! Where has the time gone? Little Man, you are now eight months old. You are officially 66.34% into completing your first year on Earth. You’ve achieved a lot, but I know your developmental milestone ship is about to come in just over the horizon.

 

This is going to be your month. I can feel it! The month you finally get teeth. The month you realize that being on your tummy doesn’t quite fit the definition of torture as set out by the Geneva Convention. This is the month that you decide, “By golly, I WILL get that television remote if it’s the last thing I ever do!” and you scooch swiftly and silently because you’re a Tummy Ninja.

 

You realize that life is about working to live and not living to work, but being at the “office” ain’t so bad. At least when Mommy shuts it off it thanks you for “playing at the pond!” (Hmm…I think I’m going to start referring to my job as “the pond.” That should be sufficiently weird.)

 

You did so much this month, Benner Beans! You sat up all by yourself by pushing up with your elbows. You can lie on your tummy and do a hundred Jack Palance push-ups in 60 seconds (okay, I’m exaggerating a little, but good lord a’mighty, you are good at push-ups.) You love to eat, eat, eat and have become the baby that will very soon devour A-Town. Nothing is left un-tasted and your newly found love for yogurt is probably the closest I’ve seen you to Baby Nirvana.

 

You recognize Mommy and Daddy. And suffice it to say, you kind of like Mommy just *that* much more than Daddy. Though I’ve heard I shouldn’t get too used to it because it won’t be too long before you become a guy’s guy and all things “girl” become “yucky” (that is the technical jargon for your developing social awareness, by the way.)

 

When I look back at the photos from your birth and first few weeks with us, I miss holding my teeny little baby. You were like a cuddly pink frog. I just want to hold on to you as a little tiny one forever. But I know yous gots ta grow, babe! And you’re just itching to.

 

When you stand and prance your lovely legs while I hold your hands, I know you’re thinking, “You just wait, Mom! I’m going to be the fastest thing on two legs ya ever seen! I’ve got the heart of a champeen!” (And sometimes I imagine you in gray sweats; throwing punches at a side of beef while “Eye of the Tiger” blasts in the background as the cornerstone of your life’s soundtrack. But I digress.)

 

Kid, let me tell you something: You.are.my.jewel. My gem and my love. I am SO proud of you that it makes me ache. And you’re ONLY EIGHT MONTHS OLD. I could not be more proud if you got into Harvard, cured cancer, ended world hunger, negotiated a fair and balanced peace accord between Israel and Palestine, broke Michael Phelps’ 2008 Beijing Olympics swim and medal records, or won first prize for Best Mother’s Day Macaroni Necklace (though Mama does appreciate fine noodle jewelry.)

 

You’re my kiddo and I’m your Mama. So three cheers for eight months old! In the next month, may you be blessed with a fine set of chompers, lightening fast Tummy Ninja abilities, and the ability to talk to animals (because not being able to understand Max is really driving Daddy crazy!)

 

Love you!

Mama

I’ve been super swamped as of late and haven’t had time for any real blogging. But I will soon! So stay tuned for baby updates, soapbox ranting (not too much, though) and general mundane boring ‘ol life stuff. I’ll be back to regular blogging after Labor Day.

Not Vaccinating is a Choice - But it’s the Wrong Choice

A good friend of mine opened a proverbial can-of-worms today on a message board we both post to. She commented that she was not happy that a couple of her friends had chosen not to vaccinate. She was angry at their ignorance.

I wanted to comment right there on the message board, but I knew it would be too hot of a subject for me to discuss rationally, so I figured I’d bring the fight here. So let me be frank: not vaccinating your child is not a matter of ignorance. It’s a matter of stupidity. It is stupid and irresponsible not to vaccinate your child against preventable diseases. Period.

Those who choose not to vaccinate for inane reasons (this does not include known allergies or contributing medical factors that would make it dangerous to vaccinate) are free-riders. More disturbing, these free-riders espouse unscientific rhetoric about their decisions to not vaccinate and aren’t hesitant to spread this misinformation with zeal. The truth is, most of these people have noidea how vaccinations works. If they did, they might realize that not vaccinating their child puts him, other children, and the health and well-being of his community at risk. It even puts my vaccinated child at risk. What most anti-vaxers don’t understand is that when they stop vaccinating their children, they lower the overall protective immunity of their community, i.e. herd immunity.

You see, no vaccine is 100% effective. Herd immunity is achieved when enough people are vaccinated and have gained immunity to a disease so that exposure to the virus or bacteria that causes disease remains very unlikely. With each different disease, the level of vaccination needed to achieve herd immunity varies, but its generally in a range of 83% - 94%.

Now here’s where the free-riders benefit: so long as the level of vaccination stays in this range (83% - 94%), those that refuse vaccinations will still receive protection from the disease. However, if that range starts to decline significantly, than ALL people in a community are at risk for exposure to viral and bacterial disease that were once preventable.

So why don’t anti-vaxers vaccinate? Fear.They’re afraid. They’re afraid of “toxins” in the vaccines. They’re afraid of thimerosal. They’re afraid of adverse reactions. They’re afraid of autism (that’s the biggie). But their fears are unfounded. Let’s take a look.

1. Fear of toxins- Several sources have posted regarding the issue of “toxin” in vaccines and I think Orac at Respectful Insolence  has a good take on this issue.

2. Fear of thimerosal- Thimerosal is not in any pediatric vaccine. Period. End of story. So unless your child is given the adult flu vaccine (which he shouldn’t) and is allergic to thimerosal, there is no reason to worry about this.

3. Fear of adverse reactions- Adverse reactions that are significant and severe do happen, but RARELY. The risks associated with disease far outweigh the risks associated with the vaccine. For example, let’s look at MMR (measles, mumps, rubella).

• Measles - Before the vaccine was introduced, the U.S. saw 400,000 cases annually. In the measles epidemic from 1989-1991, over 55,000 became infected; 45% of these cases were in children under 5 years old and 20% of the total cases were hospitalized. 123 people died.Risks associated with MMR vaccine - Thrombocytopenia (bleeding tendency from temporary decrease in blood platelets): about 1 in 30,000

  Risks associated with measles vaccine component - Severe allergic reaction: less than 1 in 1,000,000.

• Mumps - About 200,000 cases were reported annually before vaccine became available. Currently the U.S. sees 3,000-5,000 per year. Complications from mumps infection (with risk listed) include:  Encephalitis: 2 in 100,000
  Testicular swelling: 1 in 5 adults
  Deafness: 1 in 20,000
  Death: 1 in 3,000 to 1 in 10,000

  Risks associated with MMR vaccine mumps component - Severe allergic reaction: less than 1 in 1,000,000.

• Rubella - In 1964-65, 12.5 million cases, including 2,100 infant deaths, 11,250 fetal deaths, and 20,000 newborns born with congenital rubella syndrome (see below). 

  Arthritis (usually temporary): 7 in 10 adult women.
  Thrombocytopenia:: 1 in 3,000
  Congenital Rubella Syndrome: (deafness, cataracts, mental retardation) in 1 in 4 infants if women infected in early pregnancy.
  Death: 1 in 3,000 to 1 in 10,000

  Risks associated with MMR vaccine Rubella component - Arthritis (usually temporary): Up to 1 in 4, usually teenage or adult women (not children). Severe allergic reaction: less than 1 in 1,000,000

4. Fear of autism - I’m not a proponent of vaccines-cause-autism language, but I don’t have an answer to what causes autism. No one does. Is it something to think about? Sure it is! But is it something to fear? I don’t think it is.

The idea that my son could be diagnosed with autism is in the same basket with any other disease, disorder, or syndrome he could develop.  The only thing anyone can say is that anything is possible. But possible is not the same as preventable. So, since I don’t have a definite link between vaccines and a devastating neurological condition, why risk my child’s health by not vaccinating? The risk of my son contracting an illness with severe complications (including death) is much greater than the possibility of being autistic. As someone, very bluntly, said to me one day, “Which would you rather have? An autistic child or a dead child?” 

Folks, let’s take a look at reality. Vaccines have helped to reduce the number of severe complications and death from a number of diseases. Four decades ago, children and adults were still dying from diseases many today believe have been “eradicated.” Disease is still a major part of our reality in the U.S. and what’s more, to refuse prevention based on fear, is a tragedy. Children deserve the best possible start and that includes being immunized.

Letter to Ben: Months Six AND Seven

 

Dear Lil’ Man,
First, let me apologize for being so late in writing about your sixth month on Earth.  You turned six months old on June 28, just as I was starting my “crazy season” at the office.  I spent most of your sixth month at work or traveling. It was a big month, by the way.

You started doing so many things, so fast and it seems like they all happend during the one week I was out of town in July. Oh how much I dreaded that week to be away from you! Remember when you’re older to ask your dad how your mama was hysterical the night before she left for San Francisco. My sweet baby! I couldn’t believe I was leaving you for a whole week! Turns out, though, that you and I did just fine on our own.

That week you learned to sit up all by yourself. Your Grandma Shelley visited from Dallas to stay with you and Daddy. By the way, when you’re older and you suddenly recall a song called “Thunder Road” sung to you as a baby, that was all your Grandma’s doing!

You started to eat solid foods with gusto (not just passing curiosity). You even started to get some teeth, though they haven’t quite poked their way through just yet. No sooner had the plane left that ground did you just suddenly grow up! I was a little sad to miss it, but it made my homecoming so much more enjoyable.

Now you’re right on the heels of seven months and you just keep growing. Even your guides at school tell me how you’re like bamboo. They can almost hear you growing; you’re growing so fast. You’re a big boy, tall and solid. My favorite time with you is when we snuggle right before bed. I know when you’re older, you’ll probably hate that I tell people how cuddly you are, but it’s true. You’re my cuddle bug.  And with Daddy, you’ve favorite time together is bath time. He’s a wonderful dad and bathes you much better than I think I could. Plus, I just know he’s always going to be the “fun” parent. You’re buddy. You’re friend.

You’ve become so much more expressive. You definitely take after the Garcias in that way (thank your Auntie Mimi and Tia Caroline for your ability to execute a wicked go-to-hell look).  You’re a chatty fellow but that’s really not a surprise. You come from a long (and loud) line of talkers.

My darling son, we’re just barrelling towards 1 Year Old and I kind of want you to slow down a little. I cherish my time with you and I can’t wait to leave work to be with you.  I know as you get older, all my hugs and kisses, snuggles and cuddles will seem like “baby stuff” to you, but humor your old mama and don’t forget you’ll always be my little one.

Love and a thousand kisses,
Mama

This is NOT OK (A long response)

I was pointed to an article in Time magazine about a very alarming state of affairs at Gloucester High School in Gloucester, MA. The high school has seen a record 4-fold increase in the number of pregnant teens this over last year. If that isn’t scary enough, it’s now coming to light that about half of the pregnant girls made a pact to get pregnant on purpose.

“School officials started looking into the matter as early as October after an unusual number of girls began filing into the school clinic to find out if they were pregnant. By May, several students had returned multiple times to get pregnancy tests, and on hearing the results, “some girls seemed more upset when they weren’t pregnant than when they were,” Sullivan says.”

“All it took was a few simple questions before nearly half the expecting students, none older than 16, confessed to making a pact to get pregnant and raise their babies together. Then the story got worse. “We found out one of the fathers is a 24-year-old homeless guy,” the principal says, shaking his head. “

It’s easy to first ask, “What the hell were these young women thinking?!” That’s what I asked myself when I heard about this, but what I really want to know is why these girls felt compelled to purposely get pregnant? 

Accidents happen. That’s a given. Many young women experince an unplanned pregnancy for a number of reasons: birth control fails or wasn’t used in the first place, ignorance, abuse, unable to assert herself in saying no to her partner or ask that condoms be used, etc. But sometimes, young women get pregnant because they want to. They’ve convinced themselves that a baby will love them unconditionally and want them for no other reason then they are that baby’s mother.

But the real question is why would a young woman need to create another human to love her? Who isn’t loving her now? I think the messages that these women are getting is that they are not good enough to be loved, they’re not fulfilling the requirements that would get them love, and they’re not worthy of the little love doled out to them. This is a tragedy. And I really feel that abstinence-only sex education plays a big part in prepetuating this tragedy.

The central message to young women in abstinence-only education that you are to be protected from young men because your worth as a human is directly tied to your virginity and sexuallity (i.e. virgin = pure, loved, desired; not-a-virgin = whore, dirty, used). You have what all men want and it’s your duty to refuse until he can “buy it” from you.  Until that one man comes along to do that, a young woman’s “virture” is to be protected by her father. Her father is the central man in her life and it’s expected that he will see to it she is sheltered away and told regularly that being a virgin is what men want and the only way they, or for that matter anyone, will love you.

So what happens to the young women, who has heard this abstinence message, goes home to find that her family and, more importantly, her father doesn’t see her as anything more than a “burden”? Or worse, perhaps her father, if she has one, calls her things like “whore”, “slut”, “worthless”, “meaningless”. How does she reconcile the message she gets all around her with the reality of her life? She doesn’t. Instead, she rebels. She becomes what she’s been told all her life. She becomes pregnant. She creates someone to love her because no one else will. But how do we help her once she gets pregnant? We call her a slut and a whore and tell her that now she’s really done it. She’s fucked up her life with a baby she can’t take care of and she’s still not loved.  She can’t win. Not with those messages.

But what if this same woman was told something different? What if we told her that she was good. Smart. Worthy. Capable. That her femaleness was not her downfall but rather her strength. She can make her own decisions. She can decide when and with whom to have sex because she wants to, not because she’s been told “well, you’re going to to it anyway…” or “if you loved me, you would have sex with me.” She would be given the tools to make her own decisions: information, birth control, access to healthcare, access to support, access to education. She could stand up and say, “I’m not going to do anything that’s not right for me because I LOVE ME.” She would realize that the negative messages that come her way are not about her but instead they’re a reflection of how the speaker feels about himself or herself.

And when the time is right, she would create another person with someone who loved her as himself so that they could have someone to love together and she wouldn’t need to have a baby just so someone would love her.  She already loves herself.

Dear Macy’s: Big girls like to swim, too!

I’m on the hunt for a new bathing suit. My current one is a little short in the stride (my very well-meaning husband washed it one time last season and then dried it. But I appreciated the effort). It’s not unbearably short, but it’sdefinitely sporting a much plungy-er neckline than I want to bear to all the other moms at the swimming pool.

So this weekend, I went looking for a new suit. I will say that I’m glad to see that classic styles are back. The 1940s and 50s style suits (halters, bright solid colors, lower cut leg) are definitely on the racks. The only stipulation of course is that while The Designers will make the swimsuits look good, they definintely don’t believe that anyone over a size 10 likes to go to the pool. And if, God forbid, a BIG girl wants to get in the water, then they must want to wear a swimdress (gag!)!

I don’t think The Designers will be able to handle this, but…I HATE the swimdress! I HATE the skirtini! I don’t think I’ve worn a frill or flounce or ruffle on my swimsuit since I was probably six years old. And guess what else? I don’t wear muumuus and I don’t see any reason to cover up. And I’m a BIG girl. 

So I guess that’s what made my second day of swimsuit hunting so discouraging. Today, I thought that surely the other Macy’s in Austin would have a nice selection of tank swimsuits or at the very least, separate tank swim tops and bottoms.

When I got to the Women’s Department (by the way, this does need to be explained a little. Just because you’re a woman, ie. over 18 years old, doesn’t mean that clothing manufacturers think you are. Unless you’re a size 14+ you’re still a “Misses”. Am I the only one of finds that insulting? *sigh* Another post for another time), I was thrilled to see these really cute tankinis (not to be confused with the insult that is the “skirtini”) in black, turquoise and lime. Beaded, bejeweled, and tres sexy! Even better was the sale signage: “Women’s Swimwear 30 - 60% off”.

Imagine my surprise when I went to pick out my Summer 2008 suit only to find the racks littered with 10s, 12s, and (OMG!) a freaking size 4!!!

Surely, this is an aborration. A simple mistake of one rack gone bad, I thought. But it was not an isolated incident. All four swimwear racks in the Women’s department carried the same thing. Beautiful, sexy, gorgeous swimsuits in tiny, teeny, itty-bitty sizes! I stalked to the sales counter and inquired about the ghastly mistake. Two very kind Sales Ladies also thought that it must be impossible the story I told them. But after another 15 minutes of searching, Blond Sales Lady managed to only produce two genuinely Women’s sized suits: both a size 24W and swimdresses! Blech!

After the initial discovery of this fashion injustice, I sort of made peace with it. Or at the very least, stuck a pin in the current battle of what has always been a fat girl’s battle with clothing. As a consolation, I did find a very cute Pucci-inspired empire waist day dress.

Motivate, Hydrate, Meditate

I recently posted over on another Sparker’s page at SparkPeople.com. I’ve been using it as a tool to enhance my experience with Weight Watchers and Galloway. I got to thinking about three important words: motivate, hydrate, and meditate.

Motivate — Have you ever found that by motivating someone else to  accomplish their goal (or even congratulating them on an achievement that was very important to them like I did with fellow Sparker, Hamanderson) that you sort of rev up your own montivation engine? It’s easy to get down on yourself for not making progess or falling back a bit and reverting to old habits, but when you move beyond yourself to genuinely inspire others, it sort of rubs off. 

Hydrate — When I did the Texas AIDS Ride in 1998, I constantly heard the mantra “Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate!” We couldn’t ride effectively or safely if we were’t well hydrated. We needed to drink before we were thirsty and “if you weren’t peein’ then you weren’t drinkin’”. That being said, water intake is essential for healthy weight loss and increased fitness. Even if you’re just sitting at your desk for most of your day, your body needs to replenish its life force: water.

Meditate — The one way I get in trouble with food is that I don’t think about what I’m eating. I’m a mindless eater. If there is a plate of fresh, delicious veggies in front of me, I will snack until they’re all gone. If that plate has crunchy tortilla chips and a bowl of creamy queso, I’ll keep on snacking until they’re all gone too. But once I’m finished, I probably couldn’t tell you what I just ate or more importantly, why I ate it. Knowing why you eat something is as important if not more so than what you’re eating. Meditating on your food choices, knowing why you eat when you do, can help you distinguish between hunger or another need. As my Weight Watcher buddy Cassie once said, “If hunger isn’t the problem, than food isn’t the solution.”

Try it for youself today. Motivate someone with a kind word and a pat on the back for a job well done. Think twice before grabbing a soda or juice and instead, pour yourself a glass of cold, crystal clear, refreshing water. Finally, next time you reach for a snack, healthy or not, ask yourself why and really know what you’re eating.

Letter to Ben: Month Five

Patiently tolerant of Mommy’s kisses and The Hat.

Dear Benner and Beans,
On Tuesday you turned 5 months old. So help me heaven, where has the time gone!? Last week, I was sorting through photos of you on my computer and I came across the picture of your first bath. My squiggly, wiggly baby, all legs and tummy! And now you’re becoming my handsome little man. So big and smart and happy!

Of every month I’ve written about, this one is so far my favorite. I would call it your “I AM the Happiest Baby on the Block” month. You’ve learned so much. Where do I start?

Rolling over — Just before your 4 month visit to the doctor, your Grandma Shelley asked if you had rolled over yet. And frankly you hadn’t, at least not that your daddy and I had seen. When We saw the doctor, who declared that you are “practically perfect in every way” (okay, not really. That’s Mary Poppins), he told us that you “could roll over at any moment.” Not surprisingly, your daddy and I did stare at you for a bit wondering if “any moment” was going to be right there in the exam room. Not that day. But it wasn’t long before you did roll over! You went from your back to tummy, not once, but twice in one day at Mariposa! In fact, your guides were a little worried the first time, since you rolled from back to tummy off the mat under the hanging gold bell. Apparently, your classmates don’t find the transition from mat to floor very reassuring. But not you! You rolled like a champ and immediately propped yourself up on your little arms and gave the room a satisfied chuckle! 

Laughing — oh my goodness, love! You are a champion laugher! You love the Food Network and last weekend found it incredibly funny. So funny, that Daddy has enough time to get the video camera and record you giggling away. You laugh when we play peek-a-boo. You laugh when Daddy kisses your neck with his scruffy face. You laugh when Mommy tries to eat your toes. And you know what else? You even laugh in your sleep! It’s the best laugh I’ve ever heard!

Solid food — This month you tried a few things for the first time, but they haven’t caught on just yet. You LOVE mashed pinto beans (from La Familia where they’re made the the extremely delicious but very treif lard). I gave you a tiny taste on my finger and you couldn’t get enough! We also dabbled in avocado (not bad), bananas (a little slimey), sweet potatos (delicious!) and a teeny sip of limeade (tart!). You’re not quite at the level of eating soldis to consitute a full meal, but we’re on the verge.

We have a lot planned for you in the next few months. You’ll be starting swimming lessons with me and Daddy. Your Grandma Shelley and Auntie Becca both got you cool new swim trunks for just the occassion. We’re going to continue our adventures in solid foods (more sweet potatoes and probably some strained peas). But I know you’ve got a lot planned for us. More rolling over? More laughing? How about some new baby-talk sounds? Maybe you want to practice figuring out how to say “mama”? I know your Mommy would love that! *wink-wink*

I love you, my sweet Ben!
Love,
Mommy