Shifting Gears

Stella is three and a half weeks old now. More than one person has asked me if it has gone by fast. The answer to that is, no. When days and nights blend together with only brief periods of sporadic sleep to separate them, time does not fly. That is not to say I haven't enjoyed her very much. There's nothing much sweeter than holding a warm cuddly newborn up against your shoulder and breathing in the pheromones, or love hormones as I like to call them. I think these love hormones spread over to Matt as well when I'm nursing in bed in the middle of the night. He seems like the perfect husband and father during that time.

My question is, how come they don't seem to extend to my other two kids? I love them dearly, now don't get me wrong. But these hormones afford me oodles of patience as I am bouncing a fussy baby alone in the middle of the night. So why is that patience instantly tried the moment Cole climbs onto my lap to kiss the baby while I'm nursing? Is it the split personality phenomenon? The way that my relatively agreeable, obedient two-and-a-half year old has suddenly turned into the most contrary child on the planet. His automatic response to every request or directive is, "No!" or "I don't want to!" I've had to come up with things he wants to do even less than what I've asked him to do, so he'll choose my original request just to spite me (pretty ingenius, no?). I knew a change was coming, but I forgot how taxing it can be on a sleep-deprived mama. Margaret, who was referred to as PMG (Perfect Margaret Gayle) by our brothers and sisters when she was a baby and toddler became a different person when we brought Cole home from the hospital. We named her alter ego, Margarita, the evil twin. It passed, as I'm sure Cole's mood swings will. So I just have to keep reminding myself of that.


At least, or I could say at most Cole and Margaret LOOOOVE baby Stella and want to kiss her, hold her, entertain her every chance they get. All disobedience and moodiness has been turned to me, and thankfully I am mature enough to handle it . . .if the love hormones are lingering.We will find our new groove. Right?


Speaking of love, Matt and I celebrated our 7th Anniversary last Saturday. I'm surprised he hasn't posted about it. Too wrapped up with his reality TV I suppose ;-). However, he did not disappoint. He made reservations at a beautiful little restaurant called New Leaf Cafe in Fort Tryon Park near our house. Grandma Margaret was still here, so we had a built in babysitter and enjoyed a night out. I did my hair and put on make-up for the first time in a couple of weeks and even squeezed into a pair of nylons (gag, but they do hold in the extra baby squish that's hanging around my middle, so that's a good thing). We ordered appetizers (calamari with mint coolie, lump crab cake), dinner (sirlion tip/short ribs in a rich stout sauce, duck in a blood orange sauce), and dessert (chocolate tart with homemade Tahitian vanilla ice cream and apple upside down tart with homemade caramel ice cream. Everything was presented beautifully and oh so tasty.)

Here we are presenting skinny faces, although admittedly at this point in our marriage we're both feeling just a tad bit "fat".

And here we are in front of the lovely New Leaf Cafe.

And in honor of our 7th anniversary may I present:

Seven Reasons I don't have the "Itch"
(Be cautioned, you may feel jealous after reading this!)

1. Matt makes occasions special (a random sampling: homemade spa night for Valentine's Day, redecorating while we're away in Utah so that the place is beautiful when we come home, daddy/daughter or son dates on Saturday)

2. He makes a mean chocolate mousse.

3. He calls on his way home from the train to see if I need him to stop and get anything at the store (he's willing to get anything I need, like a bag of peanut m & m's if it's been one of those days or simply a gallon of milk).

4. He puts me to bed and then keeps Stella in the other room and cuddles her so I can get at least a couple of good hours of sleep every night.

5. He works hard to make time for our family, making sure to fit in FHE, even if it can't be Monday, and planning another night home every week to be here so we can do the laundry (and lately it has really been so HE can do the laundry, not WE).

6. Throughout the year he keeps a list of ideas for Christmas gifts and gives me the best surprises. Something I may have mentioned wanting or needing in September shows up under the Christmas tree. It's not that I need gifts, but this is an example of how incredibly thoughtful he is.

7. I'm making Matt sound perfect, but he's not. And that's the seventh reason I don't have the itch. He just tries hard, and we work hard together to make our family life one that brings us joy and peace. We enjoy life together and help each other learn from what's happening. Life is good, it's fun and I have a partner who is patient when challenges come up, but also who celebrates with me when things are going great.

I love you Matt! Happy Anniversary!

The Changing of the Gaurd

It's amazing how the beautiful arrival of a baby can cause such an initial disturbance in the lives of the parents; so much so, that they require a third parent until adjustments can be made.....especially in this city.

This is my ode to the self-sacrificing women that have left their safe happy valley for the mean streets of the big apple, just to assist us in what we need while we adjust to having a third.

Margaret Gayle Herrick - age 4 1/2 - was named after these women. She has a lot to live up to.

The first assistant was Heather's mother, Grandma Gayle. She was here from a few days before Stella's birth, until just yesterday. Not only did she help with support as a birthing coach and babysitter on delivery day, she tried her best to maintain a sense of peace and tranquility in our cramped little home so mom Heather could rest and relax with the new one.

You have to understand, we don't have the comforts of suburbia such as, laundry facilities in the home, or a car, or even a space to really be alone in our 110 yr. old apartment.

-40 lbs. of laundry have to be carted, weekly, down stairs and down the block to the expensive corner laundry mat. -Groceries have to be carried or carted back home on the same said laundry cart(no bulk foods or 50-roll toilet paper packs loaded into the SUV).

-Taking our other two toddlers to/from school or playgroups, etc. while doing laundry, and picking up groceries, without anything but a stroller and the subway, is quite a physical/emotional feat.

-And finally, finding quiet solitude in our apartment for mom and the newborn is really impossible unless the other kids are out of the apartment and our neighbors have decided not to BLAST their Reggaetone music into the alley all day and night(because apparently, the whole neighborhood would like to hear this loud monotonous banging in their heads until 2 am).

So, having an extra hand for Heather, while I'm at work, to help do that laundry, and groceries, and child removal to the playground, is a HUGE blessing.

Heather and I have been "alone" without Grandma help for two days. I stayed home from work yesterday so Margaret could go to school, because new-mom Heather really shouldn't be trucking an infant and two kids on a bus ride into the Bronx yet. And the laundry had to be done. I forget how many clothes newborns go through for doing nothing all day. And, even though I'm capable of cooking food for my family, as a special Valentine's treat, Kismat Cafe blessed us with Masala, Curry, and the best seafood Kurma you could ask for (hooray for NYC delivering any kind of food to your door, even McDonalds). But today they are all alone, since I had to go back to work.

Comforting a bruised Cole-noggin

Thankfully, tomorrow is the changing of the Grandma Gaurd with the arrival of Margaret's first namesake. Grandma Margaret, my mom, is taking the red-eye to JFK to save us from ourselves and this big, scary, and inconvenient city (no joke, someone was shot and killed across the street from us the day after Stella was born.....scary....even though, we feel surprisingly safe in our neighborhood...). She will be here for ten days. And by the end of those ten days, we must be ready to return to the rigors and reality of parenthood in the city.....by ourselves. Boo-hoo.

We've done it with two.....why not three? Right?

P.S.... In addition to praising our beloved mothers, this time I am 'fishing' for empathy and support. If you empathize or support our situation........give us a "holla!" , or "what-what"(hands in the air), or even a "girlfren...shoot", as they say in our neck of the hood.

The Stellar Arrival

February 5, 2008

4:50 pm
7 lbs. 12 oz.
21 in.


After very courageous and difficult work by Heather, and a smooth labor, about three times quicker than the first two babies, the star finally emerged ready to face the scary world!!!

"Put me back!!!"


"Do I know you...?"

The Most Beautiful New Mother in The World!!!

The Siblings

The Adoring Sister

The Herrick Women

Grandma Gayle

A very happy Mom


Heather, Matthew, Margaret & Cole proudly present...

STELLA KATE HERRICK

We couldn't be more happy, or cramped in our little home.
Thank you all for your prayers and support.

...A Rose by Any Other Name...

What's in a name? That which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet;
Romeo & Juliet (II,ii,1-2)

What's in a name?......I'll tell you......a lot of head scratching and frustration.

As the arrival of our third child is drawing nigh, Heather and I have tried our darndest to choose a name for our emerging little girl.

With the first two, we had many options and ultimately narrowed it down and had decided a while before their arrival. For some reason, we can't pin down a name for this one. And she's due in less than a week.

One thing we have learned, is that if you do have options on the table, don't share them with inquiring strangers. Why? Because if the child is not physically on the earth, but still in-utero, these discerning people feel the freedom to pass judgment on your name ideas, even if you didn't ask for their opinion. "Hhmmm, I don't know about that...", and "Ugghh, it's sounds too old-fashioned", or "No, that sounds like a dog's name". The insults go on...

For this very reason, we have learned to not share the name options of our future daughter, except with close family and friends, until she is physically out of the womb. At which point, nobody would dare pass judgment, to your face anyway, on the baby's name.

So for now, her name is........as Cole has decided.........Baby Horsey!

The Casseroles are Comin'!!!

Because our baby will be here any day, Heather and I had a short discussion with a good friend at church regarding the fulfillment of post-natal servitude doled out on new mothers by the sweet sisters of the Relief Society. She wanted to set a date for when "dinners" would start being delivered to our home. Lasagna, Mystery Casseroles, Cheesy "Funeral" Potatotes, etc... It's very sweet and thoughtful, and yes, I know it gives the sisters an opportunity to serve. I probably shouldn't have interjected and shared my opinion on the matter and squelch her giving heart, but I have to admit, I'm a little offended by the whole idea.

Yes, I admit that I am modern, metrosexual, fully-liberated husband and father of 2008. It's not the 1950's, and I wasn't born or raised in an era where I fulfill my fatherly duties from 9-5, come home, and put my feet up while I wait for my lovely wife(in full make-up, and rick-racked dress) to fulfill my every need, and keep the children from bothering me while I watch the game. (BTW, I don't even watch games...how's that for progressive?)
Call me crazy, but I believe in being an equal-partnered parent, nurturing and loving father, homemaker, child-rearer, and yes, a cook. And I'm a good one.....a cook that is.
While my wife and I are dealing with the challenges of a new-born baby, and two small children, I fully believe that I can take care of the gastronomical needs of my family.

I appreciate service, and I don't want to inhibit others from serving, but there must be another way in which the sisters can assist the families going through this difficult transition in the home. I have a sense that the RS feels it must serve, and that food delivery is the "go-to" option. It's seems a bit archaic and "old-church" (like old-school). Service comes in a variety of shapes and colors and is appreciated in all forms. Let's be modern and creative. You could blog for us, or take our kids so we can go on a short date (between feedings), or if it must be food, you could just just order a spread of Indian from Kismat (212-795-8633),

....mmm.....saag paneer....,

or maybe you could simply pay my bills so I can spend even more time with my wife and new little one.........just some thoughts.

Ultimately, this post has been a declaration of my PRIDE. Yes, I am a prideful, modern, dad. And I know the RS sisters don't like pride. So, now that I have admitted my pride, maybe I should just let nice people be nice, in their own way, and keep my nose out of the whole thing.

That's what Heather would want. And it's her time to get whatever she wants!

Bring on the casseroles!

37 Weeks and Shame

Tell me....am I a bad father? I don't think I am. But sometimes, when I can't do everything, I feel that way.

The above picture is provided weekly by our good friends at BabyCenter.com. I have diligently posted the most up-to-date photo on our computer desktop every week. We have had 36 weeks of a growing fetus and the word, Vagina, staring at us every time we sit down to check our mail.

I am writing this post at work while my extremely sexy, pregnant wife is at the OB getting one of her last ultrasound checkups. The bottom line is.....I am supposed to be there with her. I was there for the initial appointment, and haven't been back since. Partly, because our OB, Dr. Jacques Moritz (who is a famous TV doctor, BTW, and kind of crazy, in a good way), believes in not having many appointments if everything is healthy. So Heather hasn't had many herself. But in the last month of pregnancy, you have weekly appointments. This is a great time to connect with your doctor, and really witness the reality of a fully developed baby, ready to burst out.....I guess slither out would be a better descriptive. To make a long story short, I wasn't able to get away from work....and I feel like a chump of a dad.

Yes, I have been through this routine with two prior children, and Heather is a strong independent mother, but I should be there....to share in the experience.

I massage her feet, I make her drink lots of water and consume enough calories, I take the kids on outings so she can take naps, I rub lotion on her growing pregnant woman parts, I tuck her in as early as possible every night (on her new memory-foam mattress-topper Santa got her for Christmas), I console her, when she's feels like her body has been taken over by an alien, I make her whatever food her body needs when she just can't eat anything, I do the dishes almost every night, I make her slow down when she's doing to much, I tell her how sexy and beautiful she is (because she really is, especially when she's pregnant), and I let her pregnant self do whatever she wants to do to feel good.

I think I'm a good dad, to all my children, born and unborn. And I think I'm a good husband...at least I really try. But I really can't do everything.

I guess the point of my posting today was partly to help myself feel better, but mostly to remind myself how much I love my wife and kids, and how I WILL be at next week's appointment, connecting with our little parasite, Heather, and our famous TV doctor.