Well, I'd like to know where
You got the notion
To rock the boat
Don't rock the boat, baby
Rock the boat
Don't rock the boat, honey.
Truce! Truce! Let's get along again, shall we?
Just like when we were in the hospital? Remember?
For the past several days you wake up all happy and peaceful. You are fed, burped and changed. You smile all the while. We have a short playtime and then BOOM! The horror. Oh, the horror.
It seems like anytime I try to talk or sing to you, you're totally cheesed off and all in a tizzy. Do you hate the sound of my voice? I hope not! I spent well over $40K going to college to free my natural voice with Linklater training.
These episodes don't last long. I try everything under the sun and eventually something makes you relaxed enough to fall back asleep. But where do these spurts of anger come from. Are you uncomfortable? Overstimulated? What is so wrong? Is being a baby really so tough? Learn to talk so you can tell me what's up. Ok?
Well, I'd like to know where
Posted by Nicole Charbonneau White at 12:41 PM
Check out the devilish smile on my little angel.
I thought Cooper only looked like his Daddy. Then he started smiling and now I can see what he got from me; a devious, crooked grin that says, "I'm up to no good! My own shenanigans crack me up! HA HA!"
He also got my rebellious hippie nature. Power to the people! Right on!
And there's even some 'theatre' in him. Look at this Broadway bound baby! "Clang! Clang! Clang! Went the Trolley!!!! Ah Cha Cha Cha!!!!"
And he loves monsters. Look at him staring up at his Red Sox Green Monster mobile. We feared that perhaps those rotating Wally dolls might frighten him. He digs it the most!
Yeah, he still looks like his dad. But I'm starting to see myself in him, too.
Posted by Nicole Charbonneau White at 10:03 AM
It's a BIRD!
It's a PLANE!
No. It's SUPER COOPER!
Currently weighing in at a whopping 10 pounds & 4 ounces, (WOW!) he's CooperSized! The nurses at the pediatrician's office were practically high-fiving me.
Way to put it away, kid.
Posted by Nicole Charbonneau White at 7:36 PM
Of course, being your mom has changed my life.
Being your mom means not sleeping very much. This is kinda tough. I love to sleep. I'm a big fan of sleeping, dozing, napping and dreaming. But when I see your little bell-shaped mouth smiling up at me, I'm fine with getting up at 3:13am and trying to appease you until 5:44am. Plus, we can browse through all that cable has to offer in those wee hours of the morning. But I think we can both agree to never watch 'The Brothers Grimm' again. Yeah...not so good.
Being your mom means talking in silly voices and singing utterly redonkulous songs made up on the fly, such as "Burp It!"
(sung to the turn of Devo's 'Whip It')
"When you've eaten for too long,
You must burp it!
When your tummy's feelin' wrong,
You must burp it!
Burp it up!
Don't miss the bib!
It's not to late!
For you to burp it!
Burp it good!"
Or 'Take a Bath, Wash Yourself,' (Sung to the tune of Mystikal's 'Shake Ya Ass.')
"Take a bath!
Take a bath!
Show me where the soap is at!!!"
As I watched my mom (your 'Grannemarie') leave on a plane to go back to New England, my heart felt like it was breaking in two. I'm going to miss her so much. She's my mom. She raised me. She comforted me. She used to get up with me in the middle of the night and sing 'You Are My Sunshine.' And now there's country between us. It's just the way things worked out. I wish she lived closer.
Being your mom means understanding that someday you may live far away from me. Being your mom is knowing that I'll always be there for you. Being your mom means loving you. Therefore, being your mom comes naturally.
Posted by Nicole Charbonneau White at 11:27 AM
Today you are a month old. Oh. My. Gosh. That went by really quickly. You're already growing up too fast. You flip yourself over. You hold your head up. You push yourself up with your uber powerful legs. You've started cooing and even smile (but ONLY when you're asleep! What's so funny when your sleeping, huh? Why is it not funny when your awake? It's some joke, right? I don't get it). Has it really been a month? I fear that I'll blink and all of a sudden you'll be a ten year old asking me for cash so you can go to the movies to see 'Spiderman 6' or buy the latest video game. If it's 'Zelda,' mom will play, too. If it's 'Madden,' see your dad.
I love the way you look at your father and me. You study us. You also study the kitchen window, the lamp in the corner of the living room and my artwork. You seem to like my paintings. I hope that's true. Art critics don't mean squat to me, but it would set my universe a glow to know that you enjoy mommy's pictures. Perhaps you'll paint yourself someday.
You adore your 'Grannemarie.' Well, heck, what's not to love? She's great at holding you, entertaining you, walking you around and she's already spoiled you with fashions from Baby Gap. Your lucky to have the grandparents you have, kid. On both sides of the family, you hit the jackpot. They all love you tremendously and your first month of life has been amazing for all of us. I don't often use this word because the meaning changes from person to person, but you are a blessing.
Sometimes when you love someone so much, your chest aches in a special way. It's like your heart floods with love and it feels as though it's growing too big. It's the most powerful emotion you'll ever experience. You'll feel it some day. I know you will. For some, this feeling makes them weak. But it makes me feel strong. There's only two people in the world who inspire this huge feeling inside my chest, your father and you. I love you both more that I can find words to say.
Happy One-Month Birthday, Cooper.
As I keep repeating every time you're eating (because I KNOW that's when you're looking right at me and paying attention to what I say), Mommy loves you...mommy loves you...mommy loves you.
For a bunch of new Cooper photos, click here to visit Flickr.
Posted by Nicole Charbonneau White at 9:35 AM
Jakob saw Cooper dressed in this outfit and asked him, "So...when's tee time?"
We've come up with a myriad of nicknames for Cooper.
Some of them are lame (please remember that we ARE sleep deprived).
*Coop Doggy Dog
*Coop de Ville
*Farty Boy (Some nicknames are descriptions)
Feel free to contribute any silly nicknames of your own. Perhaps we'll use them. Perhaps later, when he's a teen, our son will use that name for his garage band. (Or a more realistic scenario would be that our son becomes irked at the sound of the nickname and harbors slight resentment to you for ever coming up with it.)
Either way, we're making memories!
Posted by Nicole Charbonneau White at 8:16 AM
The National Baseball Hall of Fame is in Cooperstown, NY.
To celebrate Cooper K's upcoming "I've-Been-Around-For-a-Month" milestone, my husband Jakob wanted to create a sign for Coop's nursery. I got a canvas and some wood letters and whipped up this city sign for "Cooper's Town." The circles around the border are actually little baseballs.
Someday, Jakob will take Cooper to the real Cooperstown. Picture it...a father and son talking baseball and taking pauses (long, pregnant, pensive pauses) as they reflect on the woes of Red Sox past, present & future.
I know Jakob is torn. He doesn't want Cooper to become a potty mouth, but the temptation to teach him to say, "Yankees SUCK!" is hard to resist.
Posted by Nicole Charbonneau White at 5:18 PM
Things just keep getting better.
Your umbilical cord leftovers finally fell off. Fear not. I won't be making an odd piece of resin jewelry with the dried up remnants like I previously joked. That's way too weird, even for me. Your stump vanished to reveal a perfect belly button. Thus, we were finally able to have...(drum roll, please)...BATH TIME!
At first you weren't too sure about the experience. Your Grannemarie and I filled your baby bath and let you hang out in your birthday suit. Then when the water washed over you, you were in heaven. I think I saw you recalling your aquatic home in the womb from less than a month ago.
This duck towel/puppet became a good friend of yours. You made some cooing noises and kicked your legs with grand excitement. No boring wash clothes will do for you! Your bath accessories must look like fun, funky animals. You have extravagant tastes.
Then, when you were all cleansed and rinsed, I scooped you up in your blue dog bathrobe (like I said, extravagant tastes). You looked at me and your grandmother with such love. You were feelin' refreshed. You were feelin' groovy. You were feelin' relaxed. So relaxed, in fact, that you promptly shat the largest poo all over me and all over the kitchen floor. (Lesson for Mommy: wrap the bum FIRST or pay the price.) Now that's contentment! It startled your grandmother and me so much that we both laughed loudly, which I guess must have frightened you because you began to cry. At that particular place and time, you didn't like being laughed at. Our laughter ruined your post poop bliss. We apologize. I cleaned you off (again) and put you in a diaper (now that's smarts!) and in your pajamas. As I scrubbed my blue blouse in the kitchen sink with 'Toddler Time' stain remover, all I could do was think of your precious face right before it happened.
Of course, next bath time is Daddy's turn.
I love you to bits,
Posted by Nicole Charbonneau White at 8:14 PM