Happy Halloween!

I spend most of yesterday evening revamping Xavier's Halloween costume. It was supposed to be a peanut. I bought a giraffe print fabric thinking it would be sufficiently peanut-like. I made a cute little sleep sack like shape but it wasn't peanutty enough in shape. It did, however, look like a costume and not just a clothing item. I thought about making a tag that said "Found a peanut!" but thought that a costume that needs an explanation was pathetic. So after much eyerolling and sighing, I decided to make a little hat with ears and horns and make him a giraffe. Happy Halloween.

Photos!

More active baby these days means less time to type. Here's some photos from Xavier's first camping trip to Village Creek State Park. He LOVED it!

Food, glorious food!

Xavier has started dabbling with solid foods. At first he was more interested in the bib. But the mesh feeder has proven to be a great way for him to get started with a meal while Mommy and Daddy are still eating. We usually finish up with a few purees. Big hits: bananas and pears. Big misses: peas.

Well isn't that a kick in the head?!

Last Friday I made my very first panicked phone call to my pediatrician's office. It all started when I decided to dress up a bit to bring Xavier down to campus to visit with Dad at lunchtime. Instead of my very practical black mary jane flats I put on my styling brown mary janes with the three inch stacked heels. I like to make sure I'm one notch above student when it comes to heading down to campus.

Anyway, Dad had to cancel on us at the last minute and we came back home. Xavier was hanging out on a blanket on the floor in the living room and I was sitting on the floor eating a ham sandwich. Having finished my sandwich, I decided to help Xavier practice sitting up. As I swung my leg up and over the babe to straddle him, he lifted up on his arms, and I struck him squarely on the head with that blasted stacked heel.

The crying was heartbreaking. He had a scratch made visible by his cradle cap that went from the side of his head and across his front soft spot. A bit of nursing managed to calm little Xavier and I tilted him from side to side to make sure his eyes were dilating equally.

I was fairly certain that everything was okay but decided to call the pediatrician's nurse anyway. I was worried about the soft spot and I didn't want to head into the weekend without getting a little reassurance. As I waited to speak to the nurse, I was debating whether "I kicked him in the head" or "I hit him in the head with my shoe" were less likely to get me reported to child protective services.

The nurse was very understanding. After confirming twice that Xavier didn't FALL, she told me to watch his eating and sleeping habits and take him to the ER if anything changed significantly for the worse.

Needless to say, it is Monday now and Xavier was fine all weekend. Of course this afternoon he decided to headbutt me in the teeth while I was laughing. Yet another scrape in the cradle cap. No crying this time though.

Growing like a weed...

I can't believe how quickly Xavier is growing these days -- both physically and mentally. For the second time in three weeks, I've had to dip into the stash of presents-in-waiting and hand-me-downs from cousin Matthew to size up. Xavier is wearing 6-12 months depending on the make of the clothing. He's still small in girth but getting longer and longer. And of course, his cloth diapers tend to make his bottom larger than most.

As for cognitive leaps, there are two that stand out. When Tim came home from work on Saturday morning, Xavier was sitting on my lap while I checked my e-mail. The minute he saw his daddy, he lifted both arms up towards him in hopes of being picked up. It was a first! I must admit that I was a little jealous. Tim says that Xavier is much more likely to laugh at my antics though.

Xavier is also beginning to figure out this new Baby Einstein crib toy that Grandmother McNicholl sent to replace the moose mobile. If you touch the mirror it plays a cycle of classical music. Last night I woke up around 3 a.m. to the strangest sound coming out of the baby monitor. At first I just thought that I'd listened to the music clips so many times that they were echoing in my head. But I got up to check things out. Xavier was wide awake in his crib looking at himself in the mirror. As soon as the music stopped, he kicked the mirror to start it up again. It was like a reverse snooze alarm. I watched him do this three times and even considered sneaking back in with the video camera to prove to myself and the rest of the world that I wasn't dreaming this.

Since Xavier wasn't crying, I just left him to his fun and went back to bed. About an hour later he started fussing, ready for his middle-of-the-night feeding. Now, I can't wait until he's able to make it through the night without ANY feedings but for a kid who sleeps an average of 11.5 hours a night, that's a pretty tall order.

Whatcha doing?

Twice in the past week, the subject of how I describe my current employment has come up. One friend asked if I considered the term "housewife" offensive. Another person asked how the transition to "stay at home mom" (or SAHM for short) is going after the wild world of PR and publishing. Then of course there is the never ending stream of, "So, what do you do?" that happens when I meet people.



Lady of the house. Homemaker. Domestic engineer. Housewife. SAHM. SAHP (the gender neutral version). They all mean basically the same thing. A (usually) woman whose primary role in the family is devoted to keeping the household running smoothly and childcare. The various progression of monikers as a result of each generation's attempt to be more respectable then the last seems to me to indicate the overall lack of status this employment has in our society.



Doctors and laywers have always been doctors and lawyers. But secretaries became administrative assistants and then executive assistants and then office managers. Aides became nursing aides and then nursing assistants. Janitors became custodians and maids became housekeepers then house cleaners.



As a student of public relations, I can confirm that often a good name change actually does result in a newfound respect for less glamourous positions. Unfortunately it is all too often accompanied by an eye roll and accusations of political correctness on one side and easily offended sensibilities on the other. Within ten years or so, you need a new name change just to keep up with the cynicism. In the end you have job title inflation rather than any long term respect increase.



For the record I call myself a homemaker when describing what I do now. I do more than just kid care and the phrase SAHM just feels like a false dichotomy with work outside the home moms (WOHM) and fans the flames of the so-called mommy wars. But really, I'm not that sensitive. You can call me what you want...just say it with respect.