Lucky #10

Baby's first Christmas was wonderful.  We didn't travel anywhere, just stayed home and had a quiet day to ourselves.  DH and I were so tired after having stomach flu earlier in the week that we were didn't get presents opened until midday.  LO got a shape sorter toy, a talking story book, several board books (she loves books), a frog mirror for the car, little maracas, clothes and a few other small things.  Her favorite so far is the shape sorter; second is the Christmas touch and textures book and third are the maracas.  She loved the colorful packages and opening the gifts, but the first time she tore into a tissue wrapped gift from Gram, she looked at me as if unsure whether she had done something wrong.  Our favorite present so far is the Trivial Pursuit '90s game from my sister and brother-in-law.  At Thanksgiving we played the '80s version and sucked terribly, so we envision being better at the '90s since we were adults in that decade, but really that just makes it more embarrassing when you can't remember stuff like who was Secretary of State during the Clinton administration (Madeline Albright).

Boxing Day today was quiet for us too.  No shopping malls or crowds, just US time.  DH and I danced and sang to Frank Sinatra's "Luck Be A Lady" while LO giggled and wiggled.  It made me think about the trip to Vegas DH and I took when I was about four months pregnant.  I was just starting to show a bit and could hardly fathom what it would be like to have a real life baby.  We stayed at the Bellagio and for kicks whenever we passed through the casino, we'd stop at the same roulette table and bet on the number 30.  LO was officially due to be born on January 30, 2010, so we figured that was our lucky number.  We bet and lost over and over again.  Another particular number kept winning, we noticed.  But we kept with our number 30 anyway.  For some reason, tonight I randomly remembered that winning number -- 10.  Ironically, LO was two weeks past due.  She was born on February 10.

Rocker Dad

My husband graciously kept LO all weekend while I attended a seminar on comedy.  Yes, an entire weekend devoted to studying how to write funny.  It was inspiring and mind boggling.  While we watched and analyzed Seinfeld clips, I struggled to keep my mind from wandering to the topic of how to discipline a 9 month old.  She has taken to screaming at an octave that sends animals scattering.  It's mostly to get attention or to express her displeasure with not being able to do what she pleases.  All I know is that it cannot continue.

So I worried all weekend about DH having to endure this on his own.  I imagined him sitting on the floor with his hands over his ears crying "Stop the insanity!" while LO crawled around him laughing and screaming.  On Sunday night, I came back sure to be walking into disaster.  But that's not what I found at all.  There was no screaming.  Only music.  Foo Fighters, "Everlong."  I followed it into the living room and saw DH sitting in front of the TV rocking out, playing Guitar Hero with LO sitting next to him on her boppy watching the screen, transfixed.  Now that was funny.  LO swayed back and forth to the music like she does lately and squealed at the screen when the crowd roared.  She loves music and this was a double win for her because we don't let her watch TV (except for tennis and, apparently, Guitar Hero).  As soon as she saw me, she got distracted and the moment was gone.