Santa Claus Sing-a-long

This is not a fluke. Billy loves to sing with his dad. And he won't just sing to any old song. He has favorites.

A true artist, he takes his craft seriously, as you can tell from his expression.

12 Days of Christmas

Our Christmas began last week, with a visit from Gran and Grandpa Jack. Billy could hardly contain himself with excitement:


Much to my surprise, he did take to the concept if presents fairly well. Here, he and Gran unwrap his first Christmas ornament.




Grandpa Jack models his gift to Billy:

The three of us made a trip to Memphis so Billy could go to Babies R Us and pick out his Santa Claus gifts. After that, it was on to Corky's, for ribs and baby dancing. Billy had fun--it's loud, bright, and there's lots of things going on.


Then Ace demonstrated Gran's major Christmas gift to us: getting Billy to take a bottle. Before her visit, he rejected artificial nipples of any kind. After: O Joy, Divine!

Billy and the Mall Santa

Thursday was doctor's appointment day in Tupelo. Billy's still cruising at the top of the height and weight charts for his age (four months, for those of you keeping track), and the doctor more or less confirmed what we already knew--that he is awesome.

Then they stuck him with some horrendous looking needles for his vaccinations and he screamed and made me feel terribly guilty since just a second before that he was smiling and laughing and was nice to the nurse with the needle. I felt like I betrayed his trust.

Luckily, I think he has a short memory. Then it was on to the Tupelo mall, where, suprisingly, they have a pretty good Santa working the floor. Billy's grandparents from North Carolina met us there--the beginning of our early Christmas festivities. He handled all the hooplah like a champ, as you can see from the picture. He only appears to be looking at the camera. He was really looking at his mother, who was shamelessly doing this little wiggly dance that always seems to get his attention. It's truly awful, but it makes him laugh--as in, "Oh my god, my mom is such a dork."

He would not stop sticking out his tongue, however, and in that respect definitely takes after me. All my early baby portraits have the same tongue poking out.

His grandparents spoiled him all weekend--but that's the next post!

Billy and the Christmas Tree Farm

So, I had these visions of what these pictures would look like. There's a cute Christmas tree farm a mile from our house. Billy looks awesome in a wide variety of hats and his fleece-lined jean jacket (like a mini trucker's jacket). So in the pictures, we'd be all bundled up and Christmasy and you could probably smell the hot cocoa just looking at our Norman Rockwell/Pottery Barn catalog/Country Home magazine scene.

But Sunday, the day we went to get the tree, was friggin' 80 degrees. Billy and Ace wore shorts. Billy wore no shoes. Ah, well. Never was much for perfect pictures anyway.

Billy always likes being outside, but he couldn't figure out why we made him look at trees instead of taking his nap. By the end of the sweatiest tree hunt in history, he was sacked out.



The farm had some baby trees that weren't for sale--definitely more Billy's size. But we have 10 foot ceilings, so we got a nine-foot tree.



So the tree's up, but not decorated. I'm so tired, as long as it has lights on it by Christmas, I'm happy. Being full time child care and full time marketing/PR lady is tough business. I need sleep. Sweet, deep sleep.

Billy's grandparents come this weekend from North Carolina for an early Christmas celebration. You know what that means---free child care!

Just kidding, mom.

I was born in a small town, and I live in a small town...

So on Thursday, we took Billy down to Water Valley (actually, closer to our house than Oxford is) for the lighting of the town Christmas tree. It was smaller than we expected, but still pretty cool. It's Billy's first Christmas ritual!



Not a great picture, but whatever.

It was a nice little event. Folks in Water Valley--and some friends of ours--are desperately trying to bring that town back from the brink of dying out. During the cotton days, it was a railroad town and a lot more wealthy than Oxford. But now there's not much to keep people there. Everyone keeps thinking it's the next big thing--the Hillsborough to Oxford's Chapel Hill, to you North Carolina people. But it just hasn't gotten traction yet.

All the businesses in downtown stayed open for shoppers after the tree lighting. Which was a bit odd, since we're talking an old-time drugstore, an auto parts store, a hardware store, and that's about it. The drugstore is one of those awesome old places that still has a wedding registry and a soda fountain with this amazing marble, carved wood and mirrored counter from the 1890s. If you've visited us, we've probably taken you there for a milkshake. They sell 50 cent coffee and 75 cent pimiento cheese sandwiches, too. It's that kind of place. I love it. Anyway, Mr. Turnage, the owner who is probably in his 80s, was there Thursday night greeting everyone and passing out hot cider. He's the sweetest man ever, and he pinched Billy's cheeks and took his picture because he said he was so cute. I bought a couple of ornaments and some sunglasses for a grand total of $9.

After a really crappy couple of days, how awesome is that?

Thanksgiving with the Boys

Happy Thanksgiving!

We celebrated in our now traditional weekend at the farm with Ace's family. Every year, we get a picture of the nephews on our front porch swing. That's Josh, 8, Will, 12, and Jake, 14. Of course, there is a fourth boy this year. Two more years and I don't think they'll fit anymore.

The older boys are in that stage where they look to have grown into new people every time you see them. Also, Ace and I are no longer cool. At least, Ace isn't. Who am I kidding? It doesn't matter that once upon a time I did see Green Day live or that I know all the lyrics to the Nirvana song on their Guitar Hero game--I am old, and therefore lame.

Paige got to hold her nephew for only the second time in his life, providing me with free child care all Wednesday afternoon and part of Friday. Huge help. Ace only exists because a seven-year-old Paige complained to her parents that she would never be an aunt. So Ace has now fulfilled his life purpose.


Billy had fun with his cousins, biting noses, babbling, smiling, and blowing bubbles.


Everyone stayed in a hotel in town except for our young dog aficionado, Josh. We had a sleepover. This picture was taken at 11 p.m. Note the box of cookies, Cokes, and bowl of Halloween candy. Josh was working that Pez dispenser as fast as it would go. Worse yet, I'm not even sure he brushed his teeth before bed, because I went to sleep as they were just ramping up. Good times.

Halloween pics, finally

Yes, I know it is November.

For many weeks, I have been trying to load a Halloween video. I give up. Here are the still pics of our little man in his Tigger costume. You'll have to imagine him bouncing up and down and making funny noises while our orange cat Baby Joe rubs against him. Perhaps he thought Billy was a long-lost cousin.






No trick or treating out here. We don't really have neighbors in the traditional sense of the word. But we did go to a party a few days before Halloween (not a Halloween party--it was for the Southern Foodways Symposium) and he wowed the crowd as Tigger there. Why not?

Working Life

So yesterday marked a full month since I started working from home. It's been interesting. Every day I try to come up with new tricks to buy me 20 minutes of uninterrupted typing time. The play gym you've seen the video of below is always good for a bit. A swing in the kitchen lasts about 15, unless he falls asleep, in which case we're golden for an hour.

Because his favorite position is now standing up supported by only our hands (he's Superbaby, remember?) we went ahead and bought a Jumperoo--a bouncy alternative to a walking saucer. But even though he has amazing head control for his age, he's officially still too little for that, so we have to put a box under his little feet and watch him like a hawk since he could slip into the seat. So that's still only good for 10 minutes or so.

Most of the time, our little boy likes to be held. Which is why I love the Baby Bjorn:That will work until he decides to take over. Which, from the looks of things, will happen soon:

Baby Einstein

All parents say it, but it really is amazing how every day babies do something they haven't done before--a new sound, a different way of smiling, using hands to grab something. It's the best entertainment I can think of.

I can chart Billy's changes by his play gym. First, he was content to lay there in quiet admiration of the lights and sounds. Then, he discovered that he could kick the rattle on the side and that was really fun. Now, he coos back at the music and lights and tries to grab with his hands.

This may be interesting only to me, but the video is cute.





In the Angela health update: nope, still don't know what's wrong with me. Drugs are keeping me mobile and I no longer run a fever every day, so that's progress. I had a nerve conduction study at the hospital in Memphis this week--they basically hook you up at various points and shock you to make sure your nerves work. Fun stuff, except it really really was not. But my nerves work fine, so there you go.

Pictures I can use to blackmail my son

One of those hippie baby books I read urged letting your baby lay outside sans diaper as much as possible to get air and light on his skin. So we did that this weekend. Billy mostly sprawled out and slept; I mostly took pictures.

I have about 50 of these.





He also had his shots this week, which were no fun at all. But according to his pediatrician, he is in the 95th percentile for height (24 inches) and the 75th percentile for weight (just under 13 pounds), and basically healthy as a little horse. Which we knew, but it's good to have confirmation.

Here, he waits outside Toys R Us for his going to the doctor prize.

Wunderkind

All mothers believe their children are super-special, perfect, gloriously transcendent.

The difference with me? Well, I'm right.

Billy is not only beautiful, he is freakishly strong. Holding his head up? Hell, he did that the first day. At six weeks, I swear to you he is close to crawling. Yesterday, we were playing with him on the floor when he pushed with his legs and leaned into his daddy in a standing position. No lie. We tried to recreate the moment, but he will not perform on command.

Here's the video shortly thereafter.







See? He's amazing. Here are a few more of the latest pics:

Billy's room, which he has not slept in yet.

He has tried out the crib, though, and he's loving his cowboy linens.

Billy hits one month, Mom hits all doctors in the MidSouth

As many of you already know, I haven't been posting because I'm still fighting whatever it is that's keeping me running a fever and in bed. Most recently, it's attacked my joints, making it hard to walk and pick things up. Besides feeding, changing, and singing to Billy (who is, mercifully, an angel), I'm worthless for just about any other task. Ace bears a lot of the household burden. With 12 dogs and 9 cats, that's quite a burden.

Luckily, this weekend the calvary arrived in the form of my old partner in crime, Hurley, aka Sara MacSween (my mom had forgotten Hurley's real name). Anyway, as she's done countless times before, Hurley rode in to save the day, in the form of cooking, whirlwind cleaning, and general emotional support. I owe her bigtime, but then again, I already did. She's amazing.

We headed to Memphis today to meet with a specialist. They stuck me like a pincushion, but about all they can tell me is I don't have Lyme disease, a blood clot, or rheumatoid arthritis. Everything else--from auto-immune deficiency to infectious disease--is still on the table.

But I know why you're here. Here's the latest Billy! He looks way older than one month old, and is way stronger. He's just amazing. See for yourself.

Post-pregnancy Weight Loss Secret: Raging Stomach Flu

I know -- it's been ten days since the last post. In that time, I've run a fever that spiked at 104 degrees and I'm still unable to keep solid food where it should go. In a word, it sucks.

Billy is easy compared to that.

Though he looks like Ace, he acts like me--must be fed every two hours and gets frustrated sometimes for no reason. His favorite sleeping spot is his Dad's chest--which his dad kind likes, too.

Here are a few of the latest:

Breastfeeding, Burping, and Bottom Wiping--Not Blogging

So my promised update is a little late--but I have an exceedingly good excuse.

What you're heard is true--newborn babes are a lot of work. But it doesn't seem that way until you realize you haven't checked your email in days and days--and not for lack of trying. The days just kind of float together right now.

But as far as Billy goes, even his poop is gorgeous and adorable.

Billy had his follow-up appointment at the hospital today, which is a major outing for us since our hospital is in Tupelo, an hour away. We totally missed the scheduled appointment and had to call for a later time. Billy peed on the nurse giving him the once-over, but his weight gain is on-target and his muscle tone and agility are off the charts (of course!).

Afterward, we stopped by the Elvis Presley birthplace for a quick picnic and visit--the house is literally the size of your kitchen, for those of you who haven't been there. Billy slept through most of it, but his daddy was proud.

Enough of the gab--you want to see what this baby looks like!
His nose, lips, chin--basically, his whole face--are Ace.



But his feet and pooping ability are totally me.



So after Billy peed on the nurse and all over his going out day outfit, I had to resort to my spare--a blue polo shirt onesie, inadvertently making father and son twins for the day. Should be cheesy, I just thought it was fun.

BILLY

NEWSFLASH

Well, it looks like Billy -- Little E - Atkins waited until the height of Elvis Week here in Tupelo to make his first appearance. Mom went into labor early Wednesday -- about 4 a.m. -- and several painful hours later, gave birth at 11:17 a.m.

Both mom and baby are very healthy. Billy weighed 8.5 pounds and measured in at 21.5 inches. He promises to have a mean left hook.

He's very active crying and eating and resting up a bit between.

Yesterday afternoon was spent with family and parents who drove in for the birth. Angela is still resting up but feeling good enough for a Backyard Burger and fries only 30 minutes after delivery.

We're looking to coming back to the farm on Friday afternoon. More rest for Angela. More diapers for Billy.

But like a good reporter, Angela wanted me to get out the newsflash to let everyone know Billy has arrived happy and healthy.

Picture to follow.

Elvis comparisons are welcome.

-- Ace

Billy has hair, but no urge to be born

Because I am past my due date, we had another ultrasound today to make sure everything was going well. Everything is going perfectly--he scored a perfect 10 on the healthy meter. But this ultrasound was weird, because I really couldn't see a thing.

At 20 weeks, he was small enough to watch on one screen, moving around, kicking his legs and arms out. Now, space is tight and he doesn't fit on the screen. The technician spent most of her time on his heart, lungs, stomach, etc., checking to make sure all is well. That basically looked like black and white moving blobs to me.

But then she took the wand down to his head, and we got an oh-so-brief view of chubby cheeks, bow lips, and upturned nose. Crazy. Also, according to her, she saw a full head of hair. I couldn't tell. Apparently, Ace had hair. I was bald as a cue ball.

Anyway, everything is fine--I'm healthy, he's healthy, all is well--except he has no urge to leave my uterus. Perhaps because it's actually cooler in there than it is outside this week.

Just about everyone has lost the bet on guessing Billy's birthday. Will lost more than $100 to his grandmother today for betting on lucky 13. Ace has now pegged Aug. 16--Elvis's death day--as Billy's big day. Time will tell.

Check out Outside Magazine

Okay, unrelated to Billy, please pick up a copy of September's Outside Magazine (not August--this cover has a picture of Emile Hirsch and a cover story about the movie Into the Wild). On page 32, there 's a story by our very own Ace titled "Shut Up About My Truck." I bet Daddy likes that headline.

Basically, Ace makes the point that some of us have to drive trucks because of our rural lifestyle, and that we make up for the environmental impact of truck driving in other ways--namely, Ace and I have a freezer full of food we grew in our backyard instead of getting it shipped from Chile or wherever. By the time he's 2, I know a certain young man who will be sick to death of squash.

There wasn't enough space for everything, but when Ace wrote the piece, it got me thinking about the way we live pretty simply here. We don't have a lot of high-tech toys (our TV was born around the time my little sister Julia was), most of our furniture is either antique or stuff we have repurposed (the best of which is the solid wood table Ace rescued from a campus trash heap that is now gorgeous and seats eight), we use a clothesline when the weather's right, we cook most of our meals instead of going out (Ace is a great cook!) and we don't buy a lot of crap--mostly because we hate crap, but you see my point.

I'm not sure if that makes up for not driving a Prius, but it's a start. How about this--we promise to get a BioDiesel truck one day. In the meantime, buy the September issue and check it out.

Heat Index:105. Feet: Approaching Sasquatch Size

When Billy is 13 and hates me because I won't let him get a motorcycle or something, will you all please remind him of this headline from The Weather Channel today:
"Dangerous heat over much of the U.S."
It's now 6 p.m. and 99 degrees in Oxford. 99. As the sun is going down.

Usually, I like heat. Summer's great, air conditioning makes me too cold--I'm that girl who brings a sweater to the movies. With 50 pounds of baby, however, I just can't take it. I'm miserable.

Because of the extreme heat, my extremities have swollen up but good. My size 10s were never delicate, but at least they were long and thin. Now, they're just hideous--and nothing fits them. Friday evening, my hands started swelling, with can be a warning sign for pre-eclampsia. A trip to the doctor today revealed it's nothing but the heat+fluid retention+a little bit of carpal tunnel.

No more whining. Y'all just send good thoughts my way and hopefully the little guy will decide to join us soon.

But when he's 13, please remind him of what he put his mama through.

Full Moon Passes, No Baby Yet

More than a few people mentioned to me that the full moon might prompt an early delivery of Billy. I was totally fine with that (see below to see why). But, it's come and gone and I am still one super-pregnant lady.

Ace was talking to a friend today and mentioned that he hoped Billy waited til at least after Aug. 3--the long-awaited Bourne Ultimatum opens that night, and he wants to be there (I do, too, actually). Friend: "Well, as long as you have your priorities straight."

Hurley mentioned that she wanted to see a belly shot, and it so happens my friend Ellen had already obliged. This was taken last week:That's a big belly.

We loaded up on more baby supplies this weekend, and bought our first Pampers jumbo pack--150 diapers for $22! $22! I had a bit of sticker shock. Anybody have any cheaper shortcut advice?

We'll see how this goes

So, family and friends...


Now that Ace and I are procreating and yet far, far away from most of you, I thought this might be the best way to post updates about our lives and that of young Billy. Considering I am a procrastinator extraordinaire, this will be interesting.

Ideally, I'll post pictures and let you know how things are going in this one spot.

So, to get things started...Ace and I are taking bets on D-Day. He's claimed Aug. 3; I've set the day as Aug. 12. The only person who knows for sure can't talk yet. But he is warming up his lungs.

To get this experiment in new-fangled technology that is really old-fangled (and so am I) started, here are some summer pictures from down on the farm.

First, Miss Gidget, a chihuahua that decided to come live with us. Seriously. They just seek us out.




Then, our massive squash plants. This picture is from about three weeks ago, and they have since died down a bit. There were about eight of these plants this size, though. It was like a jungle. Right now, the corn is coming in, and is fabulous.



All for now. Next up: pics of the baby room. I'll tell you when we know something!