Robert and Christina Have a Baby: Announcing Marcus Omer

Week Seven

This weekend Marcus took his first long car trip, his first overnight trip away from home, and his first trip out and about in the dark of night. It was Columbus Day weekend, and my parents drove up to Boston on Thursday, stayed overnight, and then drove down with us to New York on Friday to spend the weekend there and see friends and family. We came back on Sunday afternoon after church in Massapequa with Rie, Steve, and Aunt Mary. Marcus enjoyed the trip, although after four hours in the carseat--even with a stop for lunch--he started to protest a little. He's growing bigger than ever, and he's smiling and even starting to chuckle nowadays. We had a great time showing him off to everyone in New York.

Above are Robert and Marcus sprawling out in bed the first morning in New York for an early-morning nap; below, on the second morning in New York, Marcus chortles as he stretches happily and Robert holds him in bed, trying to prolong their morning cuddle. Check out those thighs! (On Marcus, I mean.)

We spread out my pale green baby quilt (embroidered for me by Aunt Mary long ago) on the living room floor in my parents' apartment and Marcus practiced looking concerned for awhile on Saturday morning. Also note that all weekend he wore seasonal clothing ('tis the Halloween season, after all).

When Aunt Mary got there, around 10:00, to see him for the first time, she immediately got down on the floor with him. We practically had to pry him out of her hands at the end of the day--she was enchanted by him.

We got KFC (Korean fried chicken) for lunch from the nearby Kyochan, and my parents' friends came over to babygaze. Robert wore his binary "DAD" tee shirt, and spent way too long explaining it to one of my mother's friends. No one gave Marcus any KFC.



In the evening we ordered in sushi from Mr. Wasabi, which was pretty good, and then Aunt Mary went back to Massapequa with Rie and Steve for the evening. On Sunday, though, we met out there for church, and Rie got to hold Marcus and coo over him too--although she did have to fight with Aunt Mary for the priviledge.

We went back to their house after lunch to change and feed Marcus before hitting the road, and then we drove up to Boston with only one stop and no major traffic, getting home just a few minutes after seven. Marcus was exhausted from his weekend away, but we were happy to get to share him with our New York family. We'll be back at Thanksgiving, but he'll be a positively ancient fourteen-week-old baby then--twice as old? Inconceivable!

Videos of the Week:

Inspect our schizophrenic baby--he smiles, then he doesn't smile, he smiles, then he doesn't smile.

Join Aunt Mary in admiring Marcus the first time she saw him.

Quotes of the Week (from Ann Oakley, Taking It Like a Woman: A Personal History):

On feminism and motherhood:

"[I]t is first-time motherhood which forces women to confront the real feminine dilemma. Before that. . . you can pretend you're equal. Once there's a baby to care for, you can't. . . [B]ut feminism and motherhood are only contradictory aims because of contradictions imposed on women by their culture. Feminists must break this code. They must re-establish reproduction as authentic and unalienated labour."

On breastfeeding:

"There is something so rewarding about sustaining and making happy a child with one's own milk. Each time each child smiled, nuzzled her or his soft head into my neck or even thoughtfully poured the overflow down my blouse, I did feel my productivity and therefore value as a person confirmed. No other work I've done has made me feel quite that way. Oddly the involuntary physical component doesn't seem to alter the feeling of accomplishment. The endless refilling of breasts at inopportune moments. . . seems in some strange way a voluntary intellectual act."

On homebirth:

"And in many ways the most remarkable moment of my life was the birth of my first daughter at home. . . unhurried and in a domain that was entirely mine. 'Look,' said the midwife, pointing to the psychedelic sight of a baby's head sticking out of my vagina, wet black hair falling into its eyes. . .with absolutely none of the rest of the baby in sight. I will never forget that experience of being nearly but not quite two whole people, the mother of a disembodied living head--a truly liminal state."


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Created: 10/12/08. Last Modified: 10/12/08.