After 3 and a half weeks of motherhood, I’ve learned a few things. First, prioritize, prioritize and prioritize. If it’s 2 p.m. and I’m still in my pajamas it might be a better idea to jump in the shower once Jude is fast asleep rather than cranking out a few more thank you cards at least two weeks late/throwing in a load of laundry/vacuuming up the dog hair imbedded in the carpet/returning phone calls and emails/plucking my out-of-control eyebrows.
Yes, by the end of the day if the baby is dressed, fed, diapered and content and I’m showered and dressed, and the dog hasn’t been poisoned/starved/constipated, I feel like superwoman, deserving of a silver star. Dinner earns another star and if the kitchen and family room don’t look like they’ve thrown up on themselves add another star. Maybe even a golden one. I don’t know how people have multiples, nevertheless one baby after another!
Another thing I’ve learned over these weeks is that Jude Lei likes the big boob. Really likes it. So much that there’s a narrow window of time between when he communicates to me that he’s hungry in the form of either a commanding shriek or mild whimper and when he becomes frustrated in a full-on, clenched-fisted-red-faced screaming stitch that makes me confident my son could be employed as a highly effective alarm system. While on the topic of eating, I’ve had my nose nursed by Jude Lei more than a few times, which produces an odd sensation for both parties involved. Never a good idea to kiss a hungry baby.
On Thursday, when Grandma Sus was visiting I “went out” (errands to CVS for Mylicon don’t count) for the first time since Jude’s arrival. I haven’t mustered the courage to leave him with anyone other than family, even though our doting neighbor Wanda offers frequently. Call me prejudice, but her relentless touting of the freaky exotic clown collection in her family room doesn’t necessarily conjure feelings of confidence in me.
Immerging from the chrysalis of my home over 21 days after Jude’s arrival into the sweat-drenched habitat of tightly-muscled body-builders and trim, spandex-clad women at the gym, I experienced massive over-stimulation similar to how Jude becomes rattled with too much handling and just needs time to himself.
As my excess skin jiggled with each upwards motion of the elliptical, I read (a.k.a. looked at the pretty pictures since my brain has trouble digesting anything longer than a blurb) that Christina Aguilera and Nicole Richie had their babies…on January 12th, ten days after Jude was born. Suddenly, I became aware that the world didn’t completely pause as my life did with his birth. In fact, I was paying bills for the first time on Wednesday and realized, half way through, that most of them would be late because it wasn’t still January 2nd, but January 20-something.
A card sits on Matt’s bureau that reads, “When baby arrives/The world can wait.” While I might still be reeling from the shock and elation of Jude Lei’s birth, the world still continues on. Simply said and yet hard to comprehend especially when time has essentially stood still for the past three weeks like a diaper-filled version of The Twilight Zone.
I was happy to return back home to my baby, studying his ears, fingers, and nose under his new, stern-faced gaze that reminds us of Grandpa Dave. Sometimes at night, Matt and I marvel at how amazingly perfect he is in every way. Even in the midst of a gas-induced meltdown, I’m in awe that he’s here with all ten fingers and toes. I never really allowed myself to fantasize about his arrival when I was pregnant, perhaps in fear that I would jinx it and something would turn out wrong.
Jude seems to favor his left hand and at times I notice him propping his face up against the hand, like a pensive, miniature “Thinker” that would make Rodin proud. My grandma Janet first noticed Jude Lei’s inclination toward his left hand (she’s a lefty too!) and the more time goes on, I see that this hand is often flung around more than the other, even though Jude Lei is not aware that he is in control.
A lover of warm baths and music, (did I mention long walks on the beach too?) Jude Lei receives a daily dose of Konstantin Krimets’ Globalis Symphony Orchestra. I tend to play O Mio Babbino Caro often because on the 2nd, Grandma Janet heard it in a shop and she instinctively knew I was in labor. Stay tuned for the next blog where Jude Lei will be conducting his own piece in Italian…
We’re still receiving boxes upon boxes of gifts for Jude Lei! Home-woven blankets, booties and hats, a Guiding Eyes jean-jacket with “Jude Lei” engraved on the front pocket with a slightly misshapen Golden Retriever, a furry camel-colored papoose for the outdoors that would draw jealous stares from a kangaroo, gliding contraptions that save my tired arms at night and countless outfits show up daily on our doorstep. Matt jokes that Jude had better be appreciative of all the attention now, because once puberty hits, he won't be such a hit...might Matt be speaking from experience?
At the risk of sounding ungrateful, right about now I’d truly appreciate a few presents in the form of a full-time cook, a back-massager, a baby masseuse for Jude when he has bad gas, someone to come clean poopy diapers in the middle of the night, an extra big boob to feed him when I’m sleepy. I can wish, can’t I?

Exhaustion has hit, but at least I have relief in the form of a certain French Las Vegas dame, my grandma June who, to date, has moped the kitchen floor, cleaned all the counter tops, appliances, stove, etc. She has also scrubbed the mold off the bathroom floor, fixed the broken towel rack, vacuumed the tufts of dog hair that accumulate daily and purchased us groceries. Then, when I'm sleepy, she takes Jude Lei as I fall into a slumber until the next feeding. I don't know what I'm going to do when she leaves on Monday.
Anyhow, I gave using a breast pump a try a few days ago. The device reminds me of one of those obnoxious fog horns that high school boys like to blow at football games. I read over the directions and washed it out before placing the mustard yellow valve up to my boob and turning the appliance on. Odd slurping sounds quickly overrode the methodical hum of the motor and I watched in semi-fascination, semi-horror as milk squirted into a bottle with each sucking compression. After about five minutes I turned it off, my nipple a shade of Barney purple and throbbing, and decided that breast-feeding is much better when it's the baby sucking and not some machine.
Jude Lei has really woken up in these past few days. When he's not pooping, eating or sleeping, his big eyes roam around as his face contorts into a variety of expressions. Sometimes he purses his lips, sticks his head up erect and makes these, "Oooh" sounds. It wouldn't surprise me if he threw in an, " E.T. phone hooooome!" with his index finger pointing toward the heavens. Other times, he head-bangs against my breast, mouth open, gargling and cooing to himself, until he comes into contact with the food source. He then snorts like an excited piglet before taking the plunge, face first, into my melonous bosom, latching on and sucking away. I wonder about brain damage and often put my hand behind his head as to buffer the bobs, but he finds this annoying and often shrieks so I permit the bouncing ritual.
Our great family friend drove all the way from Boston and visited for two days. She and Grandma June hadn't seen each other in 18 years, since they both lived in Atlanta following the arrival of my brothers.
At night, I had made a dinner reservation at a fondue place and we intended on bringing Jude Lei, but last minute Matt was tired so he opted to stay home with the baby. I made sure to feed him before leaving, but upon returning home two hours later Matt's shallow eyes, stooped posture and the condition of the family room communicated that Jude Lei had screamed the entire time. It made me realize how truly tethered I am to the baby and that there's no guarantee he'll sleep when he's supposed to or be content. We have to surrender to the spontaneity of his schedule and the complete lack of our own.
Today, the last piece of Jude Lei's belly-button cord came off. I was startled by a disgusting odor and assumed he'd pooped, but instead another ring of greenish matter appeared. Whereas we thought he was going to be an outie, it looks as though he may actually be an innie!
I'm relieved the belly-button stuff is over with because we're now able to wash him in his baby tub. Jude Lei sits in this blue hammock with his bottom submerged in warm water. Grandma helped me with his first official non-sponge bath and it went really well although I'm not sure I would be as confident if I were alone.
Randomly, there's this really annoying bird outside of my bedroom window that sounds surprisingly like Jude Lei crying! I have to nap downstairs with the baby because if not I wake every few minutes to the screeching animal.

A certain green-stemmed bandit wreaked havoc in our house last night, and I’m not referring to any environmentalist group zealots, rather a culprit in the form of broccoli. Yes, what was formally one of my favorite servings of the essential greens also pickled Jude Lei’s digestive system so badly that he howled like a banshee for hours on end. Much to my embarrassment, I was warned by Grandma June that broccoli is likely to upset the sensitive workings of a newborn tummy, but I ignored her warnings and stubbornly downed the greens at dinner.
Matt and I alternated holding and attempting to relieve him of the pain until around 11 when I took over full time. Each time I set him down in his bassinet following an episode of inconsolable shrieking, I’d close my stinging eyes for a few moments before the inevitable explosions on par with those released during the 4th of July resonated from my son’s diaper.
With each sonic boom, Jude Lei arched his back in agony, his face turning a crimson hue, hands clenched in little fists, legs kicking furiously. I frantically read my baby book and wrote down a list of items I can no longer eat if I ever want to get an ounce of sleep again in life: cauliflower, onions, tomatoes, pizza and green pepper. Then, I posted the items on the fridge, as so to never forget in the midst of an eating binge. I also swore to never forget Grandma’s advice...
Only after Chris came over around 2 in search of a couch to crash on did Jude Lei at last surrender to his captor, gas, and fell into an exhausted slumber. I did the same and for the bulk of today I’ve forgotten topics of conversation mid-sentence and I even drove up to the wrong side of the gas pump despite owning my car for three years. Sleep deprivation is tough since there’s no real way to catch up since he eats every two to three hours or so.
Luckily, the broccoli digested and for the majority of the day Jude Lei was a happy, cherubic babe. Dr. Glassman pronounced him healthy after weighing in at an impressive 8.8 lbs (thanks trusty boob juice).
The doctor also explained how to massage the clogged eye-duct responsible for the excess goo collecting at the corner of Jude Lei’s eyes.
Striking a pose, Dr. Glassman, Jude Lei and Grandma smiled for pictures once the visit commenced. I promised to bring copies next visit. Undoubtedly, Dr. Glassman will add them to the collection of paper towel pieces patients have written messages on taped up on the cabinet doors like scout badges of honor.
Tonight, when Matt was changing Jude Lei into pajamas, his umbilical cord “fell” off a.k.a. Matt picked at it. A repulsive rotten cheese aroma emanated from the area and it also bled a bit. There’s still a part left in the middle, like a cork, which I suppose indicates he’ll be an outie. Either way, I can’t believe some parents would want to save the piece of umbilical cord. I’m much more content to cut a few pieces of hair rather than a mummified, stinky stump. Yuck.
We also tried out the bouncer from Aunt Lori. Jude Lei is able to focus a lot more, despite his going cross-eyed frequently and Dr. Glassman suggested having him look at various spinning objects while in the crib. We took it a step further and stuck him in the bouncer to gaze at the slightly scary Barney-esque octopus and other sea critters. I think he enjoyed it or at least liked the motion.
Not to be too graphic, but I’ve graduated from Bam-Bam status (loss of bladder control is one of the lovely side-effects of pushing out a 9 lb + baby…Laurel, please thank your mom!) to a much more refined state. Now, Matt doesn’t have to buy adult Depends and infant swaddlers when he stops at CVS. Big moment in time.
Well, I’m delirious with exhaustion so that’s all for now folks.

Happy 10 days old, Jude Lei! Great-grandparents Dee Dee and Gramps visited today along with Aunt Jennifer and cousin Eliza. My brother Chris had stayed over on the couch so by noon we had quite a full house! Luckily, Jude Lei was on his best behavior with only minimal fussing so the visitors were able to paparazzi it up for a while.
According to Matt, the baby didn't cry for the first time ever for a diaper change. It was a momentous event.

Top Five Best Things About Not Being Pregnant Anymore:

1. Ability to see my toes, put on my shoes, shave legs, etc. Basically re-acquainting myself with the region of my body extending beyond my knee-caps
2. Sleeping on my back...actually,sleeping in general even if only in short spurts
3. Taking a bath without the water overflowing everywhere due to my mammoth proportions
4. Beer. Magic Hat #9. Only once in a while
5. Heart-burn free at last!

The baby smells like popcorn. Weird. My stepmother, a.k.a. The Queen of Darkness, and my father descended upon us today two hours after they said they would arrive. I literally felt ill watching her with my son and I vowed to never again allow her near him. It was quite a contrast having my dad and Juliette over compared with last night's amusement with Grandpa Dave and Grandma Sus. Last night over sushi we joked about Jude dreaming of "ten thousand virgins" from his past life as a Muslim prince. Then, the grandparents half-kiddingly fought over who would get to hold him! Tonight, tension clouded the air and no laughing took place. My dad barely acknowledged the baby, his grandson, as Juliette helped herself to food in my kitchen. Luckily Matt come home shortly after before I could explode and kick her out. They didn't even bring a single gift! From other people I would never expect anything, but my dad is Jude's biological grandfather...
On the upside, my Grandma June is currently on her way to our house from Las Vegas. She took care of me and my brothers after my mom died so we've always maintained a special bond.
Jude smiled at Matt not too long ago and we're convinced he's going to be a genius since he's so alert and interested in his surroundings when he isn't gulping down milk.

One week and two days...

This blog is dedicated to my son, Jude Lei Daniels, and all the friends and family who are anxious to hear of his progress while forced to endure my yarns about how great he is. In all seriousness, Jude Lei has family extending from the whirlwind metropolitan city of Pawling, NY to the west coast and even in Europe. We are also fortunate enough to have friends hailing from not only across the USA but also Columbia, Argentina, Thailand and England whose love and support has gotten us through Jude Lei’s first week. I figured a blog would be an easy way for everyone to stay in touch and be informed of the whereabouts of Mr. Jude.
Anyhow, Jude was born on January 2nd at 10:56 p.m. following a total of eighteen hours of labor. With the aid of an epidural administered by a pseudo-flamboyant anesthesiologist who clearly had a crush on Matt, the process of my cervix dilating was a piece of cake, but the last three hours of pushing can only be likened to a car accident in the most vulnerable region of one’s body. I’ll spare the details, but it was physically the most excruciatingly painful and exhausting event of my life and yet the most rewarding. Matt kept reminding me to think of biking up the mountains in Thailand, when my calves would be aching, and I would be tempted to just quit, how I had to keep chugging along in spite of the pain.
The doctor had anticipated I would be delivering a 7.5 lb baby, however, we were all surprised when a 9 lb, 3 ounce giant immerged from my body! I guess it helped explain my 60 lb weight gain where I felt like a bloated tick for the last few weeks. Since Jude was stuck under my pelvic bone in the birth canal for three hours, he had to be whisked off to the neonatal nursery where his stealthy grandmother snapped a few illicit pictures of the baby being checked out and cleaned up.
At that point, I passed out as the doctor sewed me up and I only remember coming to when Matt’s family came into the room and Emma gave me a huge hug. The rest of the evening is Swiss-cheese like because I have trouble recalling specifics, but I do remember feeding Jude Lei and experiencing overwhelming emotions of awe, shock and sheer adoration of my son. It just felt so unbelievable that this baby, with his frog belly, tiny toes and long fingers had just been inside of my belly hours before. That first night in the hospital I stared at him for hours as he slept, bundled up and peaceful.
During pregnancy, I cognitively knew a baby was growing inside, but after nine months of swelling up there’s a part of you that sort of denies the fact that an actual child will be delivered. I think that I got so caught up in the changing of my body that I just couldn’t fathom my son truly materializing. Needless to say, the euphoric shock still hasn’t commenced.
Many friends have asked, “So, how does it feel to be a mom?” and to answer such a question would be likened to having an alien say, “How does it feel to be a human being?” Not only is it indescribable, but it goes beyond any emotion I’ve ever experienced. I thought I knew the power of love before Jude Lei was born, but this transcends every single notion I once held.
It’s the kind of love and feeling where without a moment’s hesitation you would die a thousand horrible, bloody deaths to spare him. Although reproduction and having children is such a basic, instinctual event that most people experience in their lifetime, it, in my opinion, is the most phenomenal and humbling experience one will ever have.
We stayed in the hospital for two days and by the second day we were eager to leave. A few nurses were really outstanding, but for the most part they were inconsistent and disorganized. On the second night, Jude Lei stayed with me the entire time after his circumcision only to have the nurse in the morning burst into the room, confused and befuddled then relieved when she saw him. Apparently the night nurse neglected to inform her the baby was with me!
On the way back home, Matt drove his dad’s SUV about ten miles an hour. At one point after a car swerved into the granny lane where we were, I suggested hitting the hazard lights so cars would get out of our way. Instead, we inched home, all the meanwhile I kept my finger close to Jude Lei’s nose in fear he would stop breathing. I guess you could say I was slightly neurotic.
When we got home I was in a great deal of discomfort to say the least. By then, the adrenaline had subsided and exhaustion along with searing pain took its place. I was still high with excitement and amazement, but the influx of family and visitors took its toll that night when I tried nursing a screaming Jude Lei for nearly four hours. Naively, I had assumed that breast feeding would be pretty self-explanatory: baby + breast = eat. Instead, I soon learned that the baby has to “latch on” in a certain way in order to get down to business, plus your milk doesn’t come in for a few days so the baby just eats this stuff called colostrum, which contains antibodies without much substance. Luckily, Grandma Sus and Aunt Meg were staying with us and they literally saved the day when I was on the brink of tears not knowing what to do.
Undeterred by a recent emergency operation a week ago, Grandma Janet visited on Saturday following the removal of her stomach staples. Aunt Lori, who accompanied Grandma to Connecticut from Virginia, teared up seeing Grandma with her great-grandson. It was truly touching watching her holding him and just knowing how loved he is by both sides of the family. Matt joked that he definitely knows where I get my strong-willed nature (a.k.a stubbornness) from since nothing can stop Grandma from doing what she wants. I felt so proud to show him off to my grandma and her visit meant the world to me.
On Monday, Grandma Susan and I brought baby Jude Lei to his first pediatrician appointment with Dr. Glassman, a quirky rendition of a character straight from a Dr. Seuss book (in her words, not mine) with his big, rounded glasses, turtle-like neck and methodical way of speaking. Grandma Sus and I exchanged glances and giggles as he finger-plucked on the computer then drew diagrams on the disposable paper covering the examination table. I was alarmed to learn that my 9 lb babe had lost a substantial amount of weight to a measly 7 lbs 13 ounces.
Feeling guilty and adept at nourishing my son, I found myself crying and being hugged by Grandma Sus who reassured me it was normal until my milk comes in. Dr. Glassman wrote on his prescription pad, “Keep up the good work Jude!” then told me to bring him in next week and that I shouldn’t be concerned.
Enough about my emotional state and more about Jude…he smiles intermittently and once my milk came in, he has proven himself to be a great eater (definitely a Pralle…we don’t discriminate when it comes to food!). His ears, toes and fingers are all Matt while his facial features reminds me of when my brothers Andrew and William were babies. We celebrated his one-week “birthday” by singing (actually Matt sang while I videotaped) and opening a present from a family friend. I sobbed, kissing Jude Lei, not wanting to miss a moment in his life and imaging him growing up. Ryan Palmer, his godmother, wrote a really cute song for him, too. Here is an excerpt from the email she sent:

Anyway, I was writing to say happy 1 week birthday to Mr Jude. I wrote him a song (sing to the hey jude rhythm):

Hey Jude- it's your 1 week birthday.
Drink some yummy milk and get fatter.
Remember you are so darn cute and one day you will be bigger, bigger, bigger, bigger!!

Na,na,na,na,na,na,na- Na,na,na,na- Hey Jude

Happy happy happy happy 1 week birthday!

From his little oinking noises when he’s hungry to his facial expressions, I find myself enjoying every moment. Even waking up every few hours in the night isn’t a burden, but rather an opportunity to bond with my son as we listen to The Beatles while he nurses or just kissing and loving him.
100% boy, two days ago, Jude Lei peed on his own face, which had me in stitches and yesterday he farted so loudly that even the dog was startled! In many ways, I’m thankful for a boy especially thinking about my mother, Leilar Ann, whom he is named for, since she missed out on raising my brothers. Not in a creepy Ghost/Whoopie Goldberg way, rather a more spiritual notion, I feel as though I love him through her because she never had the opportunity to be a mom to them.
Sometimes I’m in disbelief that he’s really my baby. I called Dr. Glassman yesterday in a panic because he (the baby not Glassman) hadn’t pooped in three days. His response to my frantic call was to ask, “Is the baby in pain?” I answered that I didn’t think so. He then told me something I’ll never forget: “You are his mother. It’s your job to protect him and if you think he’s OK then he’ll be fine. Trust your instincts. You know best.” Sure enough, an hour later a big poop awaited me in Jude Lei’s diaper.
In terms of the future and whatnot, aside from health and happiness, I hope to instill a respect in Jude Lei for other people, cultures, etc. In an increasingly intolerant world, I hope he embraces others’ differences instead of fearing them. Selfishly, I’d be thrilled if Jude Lei shares my interest in traveling, animals and reading. Matt would love it if he were excited by films and participated in sports like baseball and basketball. For the time being, I’m content to study the contours of Jude Lei’s plump cheeks, make his hair into a Mohawk, and watch how his fingers coil around one of mine. The human heart truly knows no limits.