I'm so stoked that Marlo got her dad's eyes! They're actually darker blue than Lew's, just like Lew's own dad's, actually, which is very cool that it dropped down a generation to her. It so neat how big babies' eyes are in proportion to their faces. Someone once told me that it's because our eyeballs are full size when we're born, so our baby faces look tiny in comparison. I wonder if this is true.
Marlo is so lucky to have such a good dad! Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined how Lew would take so easily to fatherhood, even when M was a tiny baby, and especially now that she's becoming a true individual at 9 months old.
Dear Nonna,
I missed you on Friday. Mom got a lot of work done in the morning before you left, but then she had to do a silly conference call, and I woke up early from my nap and wanted to sing and play. It's no fun when Mom has to work! I like it better when you're here to play with me.
Guess what? On Saturday, Mommy let me wear the shiny red shoes you gave me. Of course I had to taste them first. And you know me: I didn't want to keep them on very long. It's much easier to climb around without shoes on. So after we showed Daddy and took pictures, Mommy let me take them off.
Today is Sunday, but I did not want to sleep in! I woke up at 6 a.m. ready to play. Mom and Dad made a big pot of coffee...I don't know why they drink that stuff. Now I am taking a nap with my monkey and Mom is writing you a note like I asked her to. I love you and I'll see you very soon!
xoxo,
Marlo
Our good friends Ed and Andrea, who live in NYC bought Marlo this bodysuit with a pic of young Bob Dylan from a street vendor when we visited them in May 2007, four months before Marlo was born. We wanted to get some pictures of her wearing it before she grows out of it, which seems to be happening wit
h alarming frequency these days! So here's our little 8-month-old goofball. In case you can't tell, she's a pretty happy kid. Earlier in that evening we took her on an outing to Barclay's (Lew's favorite pub in our neighborhood) where she entertained many members of the beer-drinking public with lots of grins and giggles. She also tried her damnedest to shag one of our onion rings, but we managed to keep them away from her.
At 8 months, she weighs 16 pounds (we think), likes to grab anything within her reach, says ma-ma-ma and da-da-da (but not on cue), is starting to prefer solid food over formula, and still doesn't crawl, although she loves to stand up (with help from an adult, obviously). She is endlessly entertaining to us. We hope it stays that way!
I'm too late for April Fools (and I've never been good at thinking up good pranks anyway. Here are some recent shots of Marlo that will make you smile. Nowadays she has two main expressions: serious or laughing/smiling. Well...maybe I should say three, since sometimes she's just angry (we don't take many pictures of that one.) There's also the goofy face, which is pretty fun too.
Also, check out my friend ana's virtual bake sale to benefit Strength.org, which helps eradicate childhood hunger.
Lately I've spent way too much time daydreaming about what my life would be like if I hadn't had a stroke on September 25, 2007. seeing pictures of myself pre-stroke often provokes this pointless fantasizing. I would have been back at work at the magazine for over a month by now, in the thick of planning the July issue. I would have joined a moms' group with other new moms in my area, and I might know a lot more women with babies Marlo's age who I could call up to meet for coffee or a stroll around our stroller-infested neighborhood.
My house would be a lot less dusty. I might have learned to knit. I certainly wouldn't have been as delinquent about sending thank-you notes to everyone who sent us baby gifts.
That's the daydream anyway, and it's too easy to torture myself with it. On the other hand, I might not have discovered the depth of kindness understanding, compassion, and caring of which our friends and family are capable. I might not have have discovered what a wonderful, easygoing companion my mother-in-law is.
And I I might not have found absolute, solid confirmation that Lew is my soul mate after all, a true friend, a kind, gentle, ultra-patient spouse, and a wonderful father to Marlo.
Of course I wish I hadn't had the stroke, but this is who I am now, luckier than I thought possible. Those old photos are me but not me. Maybe someday I'll find that person again and jump back into her skin.
Since her 6-month birthday is coming up on March 11, we started Marlo on rice cereal, which she seemed to like, although we discovered she likes the baby food bananas even better. (Question: Why are pureed bananas sold as baby food pinkish instead of cream-colored like actual bananas?) And they stain like crazy!
Of course, she only has one tooth (and it's barely poked through her bottom gumline), so she can't chew anything, but she's pretty good at gumming the
mushed up stuff. Such is life at 6 months old.
Here she is...a little pink-cheeked sweetie. She's not crawling yet, but she can lift herself up on her arms when she's on her tummy, so we figure once she figures out how to maneuver her chubby legs back and forth, she'll be off and crawling. Her favorite activities these days are drooling, trying to put everything in her mouth
(even large items that can't possibly fit) and giggling with her dad and Nonna (Grandma Lorraine) when she's on the changing table.
Leslie is 36--ugh!
It's not as fun as reporting that Marlo is 5 months old, but bir
thdays are part of life and I guess each February 8 from now on will bring me closer to 40 (boo hoo). To celebrate my march toward middle age, we made a family outing to Fenton's Creamery on Piedmont Ave. here in Oaktown. Look at the yummy birthday sundae Lew and I shared (next year I won't be able to keep Marlo from digging in along with us, I'm sure.
Just for good measure, here are a couple more photos--one of M in the sunglasses she got in her Christmas stocking (yes, she actually wears these when we go out for walks in the stroller on sunny days. And here's a shot of Marlo and Lew on New Year's Day watching the Rose Bowl game. Lew looks serious here, but he was much happier later after USC romped Illinois.
And lastly, another recent picture..this was taken in her new ExerSaucer, which is an explosion of pink plastic and circus-like sound effects
there's nothing funny about havung a stroke and losing most of the function on the left side of your body, but living in the hospital for 5 weeks nevertheless gave me plenty of things I couldn't help but laugh about - mostly at the absurdity of it all.First off, you get used to people ( nurses in particular) being obsessively preoccupied with your bladder and intestinal functions, specifically how many times you went to the bathroom, what you ate and drank, etc.Just as
we tracked Marlo's input and output when we first brought her home from the hospital, my ever-diligent nurses at Herrick kept track of how much I drank and ate, and where that food and drink went after my body had processed and expelled it. I got used o being asked every few hours: "have you had a bowel movement today??"If yes, the the standard follow-up was always: "small," "medium" or large?"Then:"hard, or soft?" '' After answering that question a hundred times, usually during a meal(not the best way to stimulate one's appetite) or while otherwise engaged in conversation or some other activity with a family member or therapist,
I ceased being mbarrassed and just had to laugh at the situation
In between answering that query and being presented with a stool softener with breakfast and dinner, which was always announced loud enough for everyone in a 3-foot radius to hear, I had to drop any pretense of being too shy or self-conscious to discuss such matters with and among total strangers. I just Really, all I could do wasjust laugh.
I hope you can laugh too, especially if you visit me at home someday soon and happen to notice Leslie's Pee & Poop Chart hanging on the wall in the bathroom(no, not really .I"t'sjust my way of saying that while I don't miss living in the hospital one bit, I am very grateful for the care and attention I received there.
And speaking of laughter, I challenge you not to chuckle when you look at thispicture of our wide-eyed little girlie, taken on 11/8/07, my second day home from the hospital
on Sept. 25, I suffered a right-hemisphere stroke as a result of a carotid dissection (that is,my carotid artry just came
e apart down the middle, as if it ewere being unzippe), After the stroke,I was left with very little movement and function on the left side of my body, including the left side of my face, which was a bit droopy. After the stroke, I spent a week in the ICU at Eden Medical Center in Castro Valley. Since Oct. 4, I've been at the Herrick campus of Alta Bates, in Berkeley, which is a world-class neuro rehabilitation center.Today I can walk on my own without a cane or walker, which is pretty amazing and a testament to the physical therapy I've received while here.My left arm works, but my fingers, hand , and wrist are stll "asleep" for the most part. I can curl the tips of my fingers into the beginning of a fist, but not a full fist. Along the way, I have had to exercisenot only my body and mind, but also A LOT of patience, which was never one of my strong suits to begin with. Nothing happens fast enough for my liking, especially with regard to my arm and hand function. Lew is good about reminding me that just a week ago I couldn't move my fingers at all. In other words, every moment of my life is noe a lesson in patience. Waiting for my brain to heal, waiting for the connections to be remade. I've never been good at waiting, so it's been a hard lesson. Thank god for all of our friends and family, who have reminded me daily that they love me and support me by sending positive energy, thoughts (and delicious hmemade meals our way.I am eternally grateful forall of this and only hope that someday I can adequately express my gratitude or even come close to reciprocating. I am going home on Nov. 6. I'm not 100 % recovered (I'm typing this with my right hand, hence the typos), but all the therapists seem to think I will eventually.And patience. I I am getting better at it, especially being patient with myself. I'll get there eventually. And now I can get through the time between now and eventually, thanks to my newfound and more recently developed store of patience.
