Elliott's first coming out party!

Elliott asleep at her party.

The final of the costume changes.

Elliott and Mommy!

Elliott in Baby Cabella Camouflage.  

Elliott and drove up to Waynesboro to visit Babbie (my mom) on Friday. Awaiting her were five of my mother's close friends and her G.G. (great-grandmother). She would also get to visit with her three Franklin cousins, Brodie, Mary Quinn, and Thea. So in anticipation of this first baby viewing party I had her outfit picked out the night before. A cute white bubble suit with embroidered flowers that Babbie had bought her. She looked absolutely darling in it until she had a big enough poop to leave her diaper and ruin the carefully selected outfit. So that was costume change #1. Luckily I had an equally cute coral outfit with big flowers on hand just in case.

Costume change #2 happened when Elliott decided to spit up on as soon as I turned onto the highway. And then spit up again while I was holding once we got to Babbie's house. And then I needed a costume change as well. (Thank you Babbie for coming to my rescue on that one.) We had to be perfect for the guests. Again, knowing my daughter I had a third equally adorable white sunsuit with monkeys and palm trees on it.

God bless my mother; she had quite the spread: Gourmet chicken salad with a cranberry relish and your choice of pita pocket or fresh salad greens, fresh fruit salad, deviled eggs and cinnamon rolls and brownie bites for dessert. It was so much fun to have the ladies ooh and ahh over Elliott and her cousin Thea. And it's always great to play "pass the baby" so that I can actually sit down to eat. Thankfully Elliott did not release her food onto anyone else and she kept her meltdowns to a minimum.

Needless to say, Elliott and I were both exhausted when we finally returned to Roanoke. But I explained to her that this was the first of many social gatherings to come and she had better get used to it. Let's hope that we don't end up with an introvert! (Given her parents I doubt we will!)

Daddy-Daughter Day ("DDD")

It's Daddy's turn to post something.  Today is one of the "every-other" Saturdays that Dr. Courtney spends healing the sick pets of the greater Roanoke Valley. As she picked up her keys and headed off to work, leaving the child in my hands,  I could see a bit of fear and trepidation in Courtney's eyes.  Elliott and I have done the Daddy-Daughter thing before, and things worked out fine (i.e. she still had all of her fingers and toes when Courtney returned home).  

Today we tried something different for Daddy-Daughter day ("DDD"), breakfast out with Uncle Max and Cousin Millie.  Cousin Millie is 9 months-old, a bit older than Elliott.   She is crawling, climbing, eating solids and beginning to talk. These are skills that Elliott dreams about possessing like I dreamt about driving as a 13 year-old.  Uncle Max and I met at Panera Bread with our little ladies in-tow.  Max pulled up in the minivan, I arrived in the three ton + Yukon. Both cars were chock-full of jungle-themed mirrored headrest covers and other children's amenities.  How times have changed. Gone are the days of cruising around in a BMW 3 series coupe.  Here to stay are car seats, strollers and diaper bags (at least mine is in a cammo pattern).  

We ordered food and (precious) coffee and found a booth. We were approached by a couple of friends with their children.  Everyone, both friends and strangers, marveled at the twin guys hanging with their daughters.   Elliott alternated between sleep and fussing while hanging out in her infant seat.  As Courtney has previously lamented, our seat is very safe, yet heavy as a bag of cement. Because of its size, regrettably, it does not fit in an upside-down restaurant high-chair.  Elliott was therefore relegated to sitting wedged between the table and the back of the bench.  Millie showed-off her "Big Girl" skills, like eating dry cereal and banging on things with her hands.  She was very interested in Elliott, particularly the frilly socks on her feet.  As they grow, I hope our girls will have the opportunity to wrestle, bite and smack each other like their fathers did when we were growing-up.

After saying good-bye, Elliott and Daddy went to the bank.  While standing in line, we discussed various topics related to financial responsibility.   On the drive home, Elliott drifted off to sleep while I told her about Justice Scalia's recent opinion in D.C. v. Heller, and how it establishes a baseline for her 2nd Amendment rights.  Before I got to Justice Breyer's dissent, she was in dreamland.  In all fairness, some Constitutional law topics used to make me nod-off too; no disrespect to Professor McCurdy and his history of modern American law course, but dormant-commerce-clause jurisprudence is a snoozer.

For the moment, all is calm and DDD is going well.   Courtney has taught me a great deal about love over the past six and a half years, however, Elliott has taught me far more about unconditional love in just 11 weeks.  I find myself longing to head home at the end of the day, hoping to spend an hour playing the "can you make this face" game with Elliott.  She is my joy.

Baptism by Fire

Elliott and her best friend Millie Chopski.

Baby bathing suits....really, they should put snaps on the crotches!

Elliott in the pool with Daddy...notice there are no other people around!

Why we decided to put Elliott in the pool for the first time during one of her fussiest days ever, I'll never know.  Graciously we were invited to Smith Mountain Lake by Stan and Michaux.  While Elliott slept for the entire car ride there she did not while we were at the Lake.  I guess we thought since Millie Chopski, her 4-month old friend, did so well splashing around and smiling and giggling that Elliott might love it too.  Boy were we wrong.  All Spencer did was dip one of her little feet into the cool water and it was all over.  We had become "those people" with the screaming infant that were ruining everyone else's fun.  But we loved being out with the baby and our friends and there had to be a first time.  Maybe next time we try to introduce her to something new we'll make sure she's not gassy, fussy or just not having it.  Or we'll invent a "baby crack swing" for the pool.  

Also, parents beware of sensitive baby skin.  The baby suntan lotion is fine for little new baby skin but mommy's No Ad 15 spf is not.  During her fussy fits when I was trying to console her she rubbed her face against my chest and shoulders.  One hour later her little eyes were puffy, red and she was streaming tears down her face.  So Spencer and I got to try out Baby Benadryl.  Now I'm not advocating using Benadryl to help your baby sleep but sweet little Elliott slept 8 HOURS IN A ROW last night.  When I woke up I had soaked through my shirt and was in agonizing pain.  But I was so incredibly happy to have experienced my first lengthy night's sleep since before Elliott was born.  I feel like a new woman today.  

Ringing the Dinner Bell

Going back to work has been smooth sailing so far. Elliott has taken to her "Ya-Ya" (aka Pat) and the bottle very well. What is also so wonderful about our arrangement is that Pat can bring Elliott to the office or I can run home at lunch to see her. And although we get great alert time in the morning before work and when I get home, lunch time is really just a feeding frenzy for Miss Elliott.

She is usually asleep when Pat brings her to the office and I slip into the back seat of Pat's car and basically just wake her up to feed. Then she goes right back into the car seat and goes on her way. When I am able to come home for lunch again, she is usually deep in slumber. I quickly wolf down lunch and wake Elliott for her lunch. So really, Elliott has no idea that I am home or that it is me who is holding her. She goes from being in a deep sleep to nursing (completely unaware of what is going on) and back into a food coma. I'm beginning to feel a bit used by my child.

But I know how important it is for that daily contact and it breaks up her long day without mommy. I could not feel more fortunate and blessed to have Pat taking care of our girl.

Vaccines are different to me now.

Elliott had her two month check-up with Dr. Craft today.  She was 11 pounds, 10 oz and has grown two more inches to become 24.5 inches long!  I knew she was bigger because I've had to put away all of her newborn clothes and a lot of her 0-3 months clothing.  Some outfits she hasn't even worn yet!  It is amazing how quickly she changes and truly she can look totally different from one day to the next.  

I have given thousands of vaccines to dogs and cats during my 3 years of veterinary practice but nothing compares to watching your own child receive four intramuscular vaccines in one sitting.  I knew it was coming and gave her baby tylenol ahead of time but seeing the four syringes on the little tray made my heart just sink.  Elliott was such a good baby during her exam.  She even smiled and cooed for Dr. Craft.  But then the nurse appeared with the tray of terror.  As many surgeries I have done and vaccines I have given I still turned my head when the nurse jabbed my daughter with the four needles.  And she screamed of course.

But two minutes after getting those vaccines in her tiny legs I just scooped her up in my arms and she immediately stopped crying.  When I went to check out at the front desk the nurse asked if Elliott had received her shots.  She told me that most babies are still screaming when they come up front.  I was so proud of her.  Maybe she'll follow in my footsteps and be a doggie doctor.  (And not a stinky lawyer-just kidding Spence!)

Pooper scooper brings on a whole new meaning.

Spencer has always believed that since I'm a veterinarian that it is my duty to clean the litter box, scoop the back yard and clean up doggie vomit at my own house.  Apparently my job description now extends to baby poop scooping.  

Elliott seemed a little extra fussy during her daily bath.  Thinking she was just tired from the long day (Spencer kept her while I worked my first Saturday back at the hospital), I continued our nightly ritual as always.  As I began to drain the water from her wonderful blue baby tub she started to squirm and make that all familiar grimmace.  Much to my dismay and horror she released her demons right on her hammock.  Clearly she had been working hard for this one.  Quickly I took her out of the baby tub and placed her on a clean towel.  As I began to wash her off again, Spencer comes in the bathroom.  "Hand me the baby!" He requested.  Oh wait, you can take the infant and I get to deal with the lovely present still waiting on her hammock?  Don't get me wrong, Spencer changes a lot of diapers but poop outside plastic diaper lines doesn't count.  I guess since it's Father's Day weekend I'll let this one slide...but next time....

My best friend's wedding-thank God for cry rooms!

Elliott made her first wedding appearance this past weekend.  One of my best friends from childhood, David, got married in Staunton, Virginia.  We dressed Elliott in the cutest of pink smocked dresses with matching ruffled bloomers.  Elliott was one of a plethora of little babies at this wedding so we felt we were in good company.  

Who ever invented the church "cry room" should be given a medal of honor.  I never really appreciated this wonderful plexiglass, sound-proofed room that allows embarrassed mothers and fathers of screaming babies to slip away from the congregation and flee to a safe place.  Elliott and I spent the entire wedding in the cry room of St. Francis of Assisi Catholic church.  We were not alone however.  It is absolutely amazing how you immediately bond with other mothers, especially mothers of similarly crying babies.  There were six of us crammed into a very hot but so important room in the balcony, sharing war stories and battle wounds from the trenches.  

So as I fed an angry, hungry Elliott, I watched my friend David get married like it was a silent movie.  I watched them meet at the alter, hold hands, mouth what I'm sure where beautiful vows and then kiss at the end at the time that I'm sure the priest announced that they were man and wife.  When they tell you that life isn't the same after children, they are right.  

Skip to the lovely reception when Elliott decided it was time to eat again.  Scouring the ballroom for a safe place to nurse I spotted an empty bar.  So Elliott and I and the "hooter hider" nursing screen slipped away undetected to a dark corner of the bar for privacy.  Little did we know that the entire, and I mean ENTIRE, wedding party would come streaming into the bar to do the obligatory round of shots.  Alone we were no more.  Again, life is never the same and truly after 12 hours of labor, 3 and 1/2 hours of pushing and a C-section, I really have no more shame.  

What's in a name or a pretty blue outfit?

Elliott was the only name that Spencer and I could agree on for our daughter.  We began serious negotiations on the day of the defining ultrasound that showed the "three little white lines" that meant we were having a girl.  (Incidentally, the three white lines that mean sugar and spice rather than snakes and snails are really hard to see.  Our ultrasound technician kept saying "I'm 99% sure its a girl, only 99% sure."  What the hell does that mean?  Do we go out and buy all things pink?  Is there really a chance that she could grow that certain appendage that could change everything?)  

So back to the name game:  We threw around a lot of different names and after what seemed like the longest Lincoln-Douglas of debates, Elliott was the winner.  It was a cool name and we could shorten it to Ellie or Elle if we so desired.  Done.  

I am the first to admit that I got caught up in the frenzy all things pink for our little girl.  Now eight weeks later I am sick of pink and I try to dress her in an other color, including blue.  For our weekly "play date" with her best friends Mille Chopski (4 months old) and Peyton Grier (3 months old) I dressed her in a really sweet blue smocked bubble suit that had bows and frills on the legs.  And to my shock a nice lady walked up and said "Oh, two girls and a little boy!"  My heart just sank.

Have I doomed our child by naming her Elliott (traditionally a boy's name) and dressing her in blue?  Will she be confused?  Will she appreciate the uniqueness of her name?  Will she see pictures of herself in blue and think we were confused?  That we didn't believe the three white lines on the ultrasound?  

Oh whatever, at least her name isn't Apple or Pilot Inspector or Banjo or (this is for you Spencer) Joe Joey Jo-Jo Junior Shabadoo.  

The Swing-The Baby Whisperer

I hate, hate, hate to admit it by Babbie* was right.  "Make sure you register for a swing that goes side-to-side and front-to-back."  Yep, she was right.  But we didn't listen and we registered for the pretty green and yellow Graco swing that matched the Pack n Play that matches the high chair because it all looked so good together.  And did we check to see that it swung both ways?  Nope.  

The first time we put Elliott in her beautiful Graco swing she screamed bloody murder and proceeded to vomit everything she had just eaten.  Those of you who breast feed and already feel velcroed to your child know that when they vomit everything it is just devastating.  You have just spent 15-30 minutes sitting there feeding your beloved child to watch it all come right back up.  Now your baby is going to be hungry again in 10 minutes and you'll have to repeat the entire process.  And not everyone's milk flows so plentiful as mine.  Needless to say, we put the pretty matching Graco swing away in the basement with a sigh, resolving that we'll have to continue to hold her until she falls asleep, carefully placing her in the bassinette and backing away praying that she sleeps for at least 20 minutes.  That gives time to pee, change the laundry, brush your teeth and maybe read three pages of the newest Southern Living.  

Skip to the OuterBanks, North Carolina this past weekend.  My brother and sister-in-law brought their ocean wonders side to side swing with them for baby Thea.  Seeing an opportunity to test out the side to side rather than front to back I asked to try Elliott out in their fancy swing.  

MIRACLE!  It was like baby crack.  Elliott immediately fell asleep and remained peaceful for 45 minutes until it was Thea's turn.  Spencer and I spent the rest of the weekend with eyes on the swing and whenever Thea wasn't in it, we raced to put Elliott in her happy place.  I shed a tear when Tripp and Jean and the girls left Sunday and we were staying until Tuesday.  Where was I going to put Elliott?  How could I take a shower?  How am I to live?  We called Wal-mart, K-mart, everywhere on the island....no side-to-side swings.  

But never fear, we stopped at Babies R us in Richmond and invested $135 in a piece of pure heaven.  Now as I type this entry I am gazing at my beautiful sleeping baby in her Fisher Price swing.  How did I survive before this?