Bottle, baby - video

Above is the video corresponding to my last blog entry. Since then, he has taken the bottle from us, no problem, and it is such a relief. I won't lie though. Each time I'm about to feed him, my nerves get the best of me as I get mentally prepared to play Bottle vs. Tristan like we have hundreds of times before. But each time I find that there's no battle to fight, and he just drinks like a normal happy baby.

It's been months in the making, but we are finally officially moving on Saturday out of our tiny 2 bedroom apartment onto the greener pastures of the Parkside District. We are extremely lucky to have a house to live in, and it's full circle to raise my child in the home that I was raised in. But I can't help but mourn the loss of the first place I began to create my own little family. It started with a relationship, which evolved into a marriage, which grew into a baby. For the past four years, Joe and I have hosted all our friends, stayed up long nights, watch lots of reality tv, and began raising a baby. It was Tristan's first home, as it was ours together. And I got a little choked up tonight, cooking a batch of spaghetti, knowing this was the last time I was going to cook in this kitchen. Change can be great, especially in this case, because it will give Tristan a place to run around and grow with. But I'll never forget bringing him home from CPMC to this apartment. The beginning of my life as a mother began here, and I hope I never forget that feeling. But you know what I'll miss the most...May Wah! I kid you not. Being 3 blocks away from practically any ingredient you need is a cook's dream. It spoiled me. Now I have to drive to the nearest store. Soon my leg muscles will all go through atrophy and turn to mush because I'll never walk anywhere ever again. Then I'll be no better than those LA girls I make fun of all the time.

Goodbye, Clement Street. You've been good to us.

Bottle, Baby!

Babycenter.com says that babies don't self-wean until they're over 2 years old. Babycenter.com has obviously not met Tristan Dea Marshman.

Three days ago, Tristan decided to deny nursing at night. I don't know why, I mean, it's not like the kid talks. So I had no idea what to do about it because I didn't know the reason. And then the swirling emotions of mother-guilt began to plague me. What was I doing wrong? What about our special bonding together? So then we tried the bottle, which of course he refused as well. Then panic set in. No nursing, and no bottle. He'd shrivel up like a little shrinky dink in no time! But he'd throw that bottle away like it was filled to the brim with poison.

Until today.

This morning, I sat him on the kitchen counter facing me, and stuck a bottle of formula in his mouth. He took it. And I fed him, my eyes wide and heart elated at 6:30am. Who can ever remember feeling overjoyed at 6:30am? I sure can't remember a time. But today, I was. Overjoyed doesn't even do it justice. This was the FIRST time he had ever taken a bottle from me. First time ever in his teeny little lifetime. But Tristan can be a big ol' tease. So I decided not to get my hopes up.

Tonight, he took another bottle, this time from Joe. I'd show you the video, but of course youtube uploading is down right now. I'll be sure to upload it tomorrow.

I will miss nursing him. It was our time to be still, to be one. But between the biting (ouch!) and the inconvenient pumping at work, I think I'll easily transition to not nursing. I lasted 10 months. Not a bad go in my opinion.

Now I'll have to find other ways to trick him into cuddling with me.

Lack of Manners

Hey all, Tristan here again.  Mommy is too tired with work and me to update this thing so I'm in charge for the time being.

The weather has been nice and our place has gotten warm.  Daddy went on this rant about it was time to get in touch with my white side and Mommy makes me wear too much clothing.  Not sure what being half white had to do with it but I got to play around just wearing my diaper.

This was lots of fun but he told me not to tell Po-po.  The secret is safe as long as you readers don't go telling her.

In other big news, the doctor said I should be feeding myself more often.  This is CRAZY YO!  I get to make a mess and it is ENCOURAGED!  Here is me the other night.  Man I was so proud of my effort on this mess.

My palate is maturing and I only want the finer things.  Basically this means I don't want anymore vegetables.  They're nasty.  This is causing issues with my bowels and sometimes my "movements" are a little hard to get moving.  See the effort in my face here:

If Mommy figures this out, she might force me to eat my greens.  When I have to give that extra push, I just give the thumbs up and pretend like everything is working great.

Come by and visit anytime.  Party at my place.

Play Date

Pretty girl gives a kiss............

and playful boy is happy!

Playful boy gives a kiss back...

and pretty girl feels violated.

Pretty girl is a little bit afraid of crazy mascot.................................................and playful boy just wants to poke it.

But both like to play with toys......

though some need a lot of help.......

and others are getting the hang of it. 

And both get their hot mamas to stroll them around the city!

There will be better days

Hey again, it's Tristan.  Today didn't go so well.  Mommy dressed me this morning.  I tried to pull it off but to no avail.  Check out the picture:

I look like the love child of Raggedy Ann and a gay English professor.

Anyways, we went out and about not doing anything too fun but then Mommy and Daddy took me to the park.  Have you been to the park?  It's horrible.  HORRIBLE! You're supposed to play but there are no cell phones, remote controls, or electric sockets anywhere to be found.  Maybe kids born back in 2008 would enjoy this but not today's kids.

First off it was cold and a bunch of strangers were already there.  We tried the slides first.  They're cold, squeeky, and no fun.

Then we tried the swing.  Pass.

Because I didn't like that, I got put in the sand.  This stuff gets everywhere and smells like dog pee sometimes.

I just wanted Mommy to get me out...

...but she just put me in even more sand with nothing else around!

All alone....

while she laughed at me.  Not cool at all Mommy.

By the time we got home I was losing it.  I starting incoherently blabbering to myself .

I'm waking up four times tonight.  Revenge will be sweet.

Lemon Experiment

Pickle Experiment

Kiss Kiss

Tristan learned his first trick, and I was so happy that it was this particular one.

It's been a long time...

It's been 23 days since we posted last. And I can without a doubt say it's because I went back to work. That has been a tough transition, especially last week when the students came back to school. It meant getting up at 6am, getting Tristan ready, getting myself ready, shuttling him to North Beach to Po-Po and Gung-Gung's flat, then going to work with crazy demanding teenagers, then picking him back up, going home, feeding him, cooking dinner to feed Joe and I, cleaning him up, putting him down, waking up at 2am to feed his night cravings, and doing it all over again. It was like Night of the Living Dead style, all up in here. But this week has been alot better. Joe's been upping the cooking and cleaning, I got used to less sleep, and we're all a bit happier and more adjusted. Having Po-Po and Gung Gung has been a godsent. I mean, it's not like I have to check their childrearing credentials anytime soon. And I thought I'd be a hot mess emotionally going from seeing him 24/7 to much less. But no tears were shed, on his nor my end. (Not having a period has made me a very emotionally stable person--ask Joe).

His mother-inflicted forehead bruise went away within the first two days. The long term damage is yet to be determined. Though he hasn't been falling on the floor or forgetting his name. All good signs.

He's a total cruiser now. Pulls himself on anything he can. Loves dirty things like garbage cans and toilets. Hates sleeping (still). Has four teeth, of which there is a ginormous gap between his top two. Is so active that he tears open the seams of his clothing (this is when my sewing/mending skills come in handy). Only says "Da-Da" and not momma (I think I'll cry tears of joy on that day that happens). Loves carbs like jook, noodles, rice, bread. Does tricks like "kiss kiss". And still loves his mommy and shows it by reaching out to me. God I love that.

Injury Update

Hey everyone, Tristan here.  Here's a photo of the bruise on the upper left side of my head where Mommy dropped me:

She's says I jumped out of her arms and that might be true but it doesn't matter.  I'm only 8 months old and nothing is my fault yet.  It's true she's totally devastated.  This is a good thing.  The more devastated she is, the more I can get away with.  And boy do I plan to get away with a lot.  Anyway, I gotta get back to ripping off the cover daddy put on the electrical socket.  Later.