One Month

Our new camera has arrived :)

Baby Bob turned one month today! Woo hoo! He's 11.5 pounds, holding his head up nicely, and smiling at everyone but me :( He sees me and thinks, "Man, I'm hungry!"

Baby Bob has enough head control that I can finally tell if he's interested in something. He actually loves to watch Alice. Sometimes she can be a bit overstimulating (how many hugs and kisses must a little brother endure while he's simply trying to eat?!), but he responds to her voice and moves his head to watch her play.

Here, Alice is playing doctor with him (she looooooves to give shots):

Here, he's hanging out in the baby seat. He tolerates it well enough as long as he's up on the kitchen table in the middle of the action. No smiles for Mama, just some hopeful lip-smacking and a little arm-flailing in anticipation of a surprise mealtime. Yeah, right. Every 2 hours is often enough.

Here, he's asleep in his crib.

Yes, that's a pink blanket. My friend gave me a funny sideways glance today and asked me if I needed more baby blankets. Thinking of the huge pile of nifty, handmade baby blankets of all colors and sizes that I have in my closet at home, I said we had plenty. Then I finally picked up on her subtle cue that a pink blanket on a baby boy might not be her choice, no matter how practical and perfect a lightweight, semi-stretchy, medium-sized, waffle weave blanket is for swaddling a one-month-old infant just tight enough that he can move a little without wriggling out. I told her why I had selected that specific blanket and she informed me that WalMart usually carries that exact type of blanket in green and blue shades.

The conversation made me laugh, actually. I liked seeing her reaction to the pink blanket on a boy. It reminded me that this was the friend who first pointed out my non-conformist tendencies. The revelation surprised me at the time and ruffled a few feathers ("Are you trying to label me?") but I had to admit that she was right. The truth is, I'm SO non-conformist that simply labeling myself as a "non-conformist" makes me want to buck the stereotype and start conforming.

I'm hopeless.

So maybe that blanket isn't really as practical as I make it out to be...maybe I just like it because it's pink on a boy. After all, it rarely left the crib when I was using it to swaddle Alice ("Pink on MY girl? No way!")

Utterly hopeless.