The Busy Month

So much happened in April. I went back to work. Grandma and Grandpa Lyons came for Passover. Aunty Lisha came from Spring Break. Jay went to the London Book Fair, and Grandpa Mac came while he was gone. One of my authors came and won an Edgar Award, which necessitated much partying. We've had a constantly full house.

I love having house guests. It energizes me, the extra people to talk to, and changing up our routine. But by the end of this month, when the last person wheeled out their bags and hung up our spare keys, I was ready for a break. Even so, I have an author flying in this week for a talk show appearance, and couldn't stop myself from offering our spare room. It's like a compulsion.

Some photos I managed to take...

Grandpa Lyons and Ilan during Passover

Grandpa Mac and Roan roast marshmellows for matzoh s'mores

Aunty Lisha and the boys

Collage!

He Comes From a Long Line of Stubborn People

Two weeks ago I went back to work. I was stressed. I'd never left Ilan for more than a few hours. And when I did, he refused to take a bottle. Would he refuse to eat for 10 hours?

We'd spent the 3 weeks leading up to my back-to-work day trying to give Ilan a bottle, without much success. I finally decided that this was a problem for Team McClure, which is what we call my parents when they mobilize for some home improvement project. Like the time they flew out to New York and painted our walls. It's easy to think of them like this - Team McClure! - because they have matching hats and matching shirts and sweatshirts. They rarely wear them at the same time, but still. Picture them high-fiveing after a successful bathroom shelf installation, both in denim Mac's hats. They are unstoppable.

We were in California for my last week of maternity leave. My mom succeeded in giving Ilan a bottle after jumping up and down vigorously for 10 minutes. She was sweaty and sore. But it was a victory. Team McClure: 1. Ilan: 0.

By the end of the week my mom had given Ilan a few more bottles, and he took each one with less jumping than the last. I thought: "Team McClure has done it again!"

Back in Brooklyn, with 3 days left before my back-to-work Monday, Jay attempted to give Ilan a bottle. And failed. We called Katie, our babysitter, to come over. No luck. Ilan was clearly hungry, he nursed ravenously when I finally gave in and fed him. But he wasn't hungry enough to compromise his principles.

We tried so many things that weekend. Different bottles and nipples. Different milk temperatures. Holding him in various positions, rocking him in a bouncy chair. We got his favorite toy, Bee, involved. Roan modeled correct bottle feeding behavior. We even tried this technique where we soaked the nipple in my milk for 4 hours. Ilan was not impressed.

Monday came and I left Ilan with the babysitter and 12 ounces of expressed milk. He ate 2 or 3. Tuesday was a little better. I'm home with both boys Wednesday. On Thursday he came around, and ate almost all 12 ounces while I was away. At last, he was bottle trained!

There have been some regressions, but for the most part Ilan has decided that he likes to eat more than he likes to protest bottle feeding.

He is clearly a baby who stands his ground.

Risotto

Sneaky Lou

Half way through our stay in California, my sister looked over at you asked, "Ilan, what do you do all day?"

My knee jerk reaction was to defend you. But really, you do spend an awful lot of your time riding around on someone else's shoulder.

On March 15th, the day before we left for California, you rolled over. Since then, you have only rolled over when no one is looking. No one believes me, that you are regularly rolling. I tried capturing it on my video camera, but you only cried.

Here are some moments I captured from your 3rd month -

At the lake in Prospect Park

Sneaky roller

Baby blue eyes

Watching the ceiling fan

With Grandma Mac

Cuzzies

Two Black Shoes

Last week I took Roan shoe shopping. He needed a new pair of sneakers and like everything else lately, he insisted that they be black. Black is his favorite color. When I ask him why he says, "because black steam engine, Mommy."

Roan rode wobble bike to the shoe store, and Ilan fell asleep in the ergo. The shoe lady measured his feet (9 and a half!) and after a lot of rummaging around in the back informed me that there were no black shoes in his size. I prompted Roan to try on gray shoes ("the color of coal in coal cars!" I said cheerfully), but no. Roan had started up an "I want BLACK SHOES" chant that threatened to turn ugly. So we left to ride wobble bike home and order shoes online.

We looked at a lot of black shoes on Zappos. We even watched videos about them. Roan didn't seem to like any of them. He was getting more and more demanding and added "I want TWO SHOES" to his "I want BLACK SHOES" mantra.

Taking into account the wobble bike commute, we had spent over 3 hours on Operation Black Shoes. Ilan was awake and crying. I was ready to be done. And now Roan wanted two pairs?

We finally settled on a pair of black Adidas that were on sale. I explained how the mailman would deliver them in a few days. How they would come in a box with our name on it that we'd get to open.

"But Mommy," he said, "I need TWO shoes!"

This went on all day. I got more and more irritated. It wasn't like him to be so ungrateful. I talked lot about being thankful for what we have and told silly stories about a little boy who always wanted more. I talked about the economy of using only what we need. It wasn't until late in the afternoon that I finally put it together. All the shoes we looked at online, they showed an image of only one shoe. He wasn't asking for two *pairs* of shoes, he was asking for one for each foot!

Days later, when the black shoes came in the mail, he seemed very excited that there were two.