Month 4

Dear Ilan,

You will be 5 months old next week.  Time is passing more quickly now.  Where did your 4th month go?

We ate dinner outside tonight, and I got Daddy to help me take some photos of you and your brother. I was going for a spring theme, which is why, in these last two photos, you are surrounded by random plants.  All this did was distract you (we have many outtakes of you trying to eat the flowers), and I have to admit that the whole thing looked a lot better in my head.

It's easy to capture you smiling.  You smile whenever I look at you.  And you fuss when I look away.  When I leave the room you start wailing.  As soon as I'm back you turn off the crying and are all smiles.  It's cute, and I'm flattered, but it's getting old.

You had a checkup this month and are still a small fry - in the 25th percentile.  Strangers are always telling me you look big for 4 months, and I think that's because you have a lot of hair.  Your hair is naturally thicker and longer on the very top, like a faux hawk.  Or maybe people think you're older because you are never asleep.  You sleep well at night but you're a terrible napper.

You are at the stage where you are drooling something fierce, so that the front of any shirt I put on you in is drenched within an hour.  I've started putting you in bibs, since they are easier to change than shirts. They make you look so big, like you are ready to grab a spoon and fling some food around the house.

The best games to play with you are Plop, where I sit you up on the bed and you balance for a few seconds before falling over, and Whoosh, where I float a blanket over your face. It's like a lively version of peek-a-boo.  You love these games, and smile and laugh when we play them. It is wonderful to hear you laugh.

Here you are, at 4 months:

Art Show

Dear Roan,

Every Wednesday, for the last two months, you've gone to art class at an old armory that's been converted to our neighborhood YMCA. Instead of taking your art home each class, your teacher Miss Julie kept it all and put together a grand art show last Saturday.  We all got dressed up and went.

When we got to your classroom Miss Julie said, "Roan, welcome to your opening!" Your art was organized into exhibits. There was music playing. There were snacks and juice boxes laid out. Just like we were gallery hopping in Chelsea!

The artist poses under his favorite piece

Inspired by Kandinsky - Roan's is on the bottom row, 3rd from the left

Your class also made an outdoor installation, two large flowers to mount on the supporting poles for a young tree.

Neighborhood installation - painting this was a group effort

You seemed to enjoy art class. Every week you walked right through the doors and seated yourself at the table, awaiting instruction. This session I signed you up for puppet making with Miss Julie. The first class you made a bird, which looked nothing like a bird, but you flew it all around during our walk home, making it loudly eat everything we passed.

I also signed you up for a Saturday morning soccer class. Your Daddy was so excited to take you, but from what I heard you weren't into it.  Instead, you pretended you were a monster and chased after the ball, trying to eat it. You ran in a strange bent-over-sideways way to keep your mouth close to the ball and made loud monster chewing noises.  Do you see a pattern here?  We do.  You are obsessed with eating things, and being eaten.

Not everything can be successful as art class.

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