Push!

We think it's well ahead of schedule, but what do we know? In any case, Mr. Lincoln enjoys his tummy time (unlike his older sister back in the day) and at 5 weeks (only 1 week, if you're counting from full-term!) is quite adept at grunting himself into a near push-up position. When bathing, he exercises his lower-body muscles as well, pushing off the ground with his feet as we support his tummy. Looks kind of like yoga's downward-facing dog.

Light show

We've dragged most of Greta's baby toys out of storage and Lincoln's favorite is the blanket that Greta spent hours on when she was a newborn. They lie together watching the colored lights flash. Greta periodically does a leg lift and says, "Look, Linc." No doubt he's watching -- and learning.

In concert

Among Greta's very favorite make-believe things to do is "going to a concert." Here's how it works: First she gets the stroller and pushes it over to the landing that leads upstairs. Parks it there. Then she grabs a doll or a stuffed animal, or two or three. And she sits them down on the landing, where the floor elevates. Next she gets a snack. Tiny boxes of raisins are the current rage. Now she gets sunblock, so her guests don't suffer. "But what kind of concert is this?" we always ask. And that prompts her to get the xylophone Aunt Sara gifted her for Christmas. Everything properly staged, she starts inviting people. Sometimes me, sometimes Carey, sometimes both of us. Usually Lincoln. So we sit in the pretend amphitheater, waiting for the concert to start. But I've done this more than a dozen times so far and still haven't heard any music. Once I grabbed the mallet and started beating a tune on the xylophone, but was told, "Wait, Daddy. We're waiting for the concert." Maybe she hears it in her head?

Anyway, that anecdote is a prelude to Tuesday night, when we dragged Greta and her brother to an outdoor performance by "The Commandant's Own" United States Marine Drum & Bugle Corps at Iwo Jima. A patriotic medley, a 007 movie medley and a bizarre marching band rendition of James Blunt's "You're Beautiful." Greta loved it, at one point standing up and marching in place. But after the band came a silent drill team and silent is not a word associated with 2-year-olds. Greta kept belting out "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" while they silently drilled! Frankly, I was disappointed the audience didn't join in. We could have started a hell of a round.

More photos for Mom

Honestly, this is what my son looks like more than half the time. He's a fat little lovable monster.

New skill

I'm pretty sure I read somewhere that toddlers who can curl their tongues are either 1) genetically predisposed to be brilliant; 2) destined to be pierced; or 3) just generally cooler than their peers.

Sleep, perchance...

... to keep sleeping all through the night! Alas, it's too early for such Shakespearean flights of fancy. Young Mr. Lincoln cries out in stomach-gnawing terror every couple hours and Mommy does her duty. I must say, breastfeeding is pretty easy on the guy. Change an occasional diaper, hand off the wailing infant, and go back to sleep. Of course, Greta complicates things a little. She's taking advantage of the situation by asserting in the middle of the night that she'd prefer to sleep in Mommy or Daddy's bed. So most nights I end up in the guest room with Greta around 3 a.m. and Carey sleeps with Lincoln in the master bed. It's probably not the model situation described in Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child.

Anyway, a couple photos... my mother gently scolded me for Lincoln's unflattering faces, so here's what he looks like at least 75% of the time.

Daily grind

Tempus fugit, as the Latin-speakers say. My four weeks paternity leave is over and I'm back at work. Countless colleagues have told me they now follow Greta and Lincoln's life via this blog, and one of them is a bona fide Web celebrity, so the pressure is on to post daily, even when the image isn't that fresh.

So here's Greta a week or so ago at the Baby Gap in Rye, N.Y., wondering why the mannequin a) won't react to her touch and b) has no head.

Unflattering faces

Clothes horse

In Greta's mind, one of the best things about Lincoln is the new clothes he seems to get every day as presents. Dress up has never been such fun.

Bubble bath

We cranked up the Jacuzzi tub a couple nights ago. Tried it once when Greta was little and she was scared. No such trepidation this time, as you can see. I hadn't laughed that hard in a long time.

Daisy girl

Ix-nay on the move-ay today, so here's an old story. A couple weeks ago one of Carey's co-workers bought Greta a book called "Do Princesses Wear Hiking Boots?"* Any new book becomes an instant favorite and a must-read at bedtime. So Greta heard the tale of the confident, independent princess for about a week straight. In every drawing, she's wearing a crown of daisies.

Fast forward a week and another of Carey's co-workers sends a bowl of daisies as a congratulation gift. Greta sees it and thinks someone must have sent her the raw materials to make a daisy crown. After a few days of letting them beautifying the home, Carey helps Greta string together daisies to make a crown. The gorgeous result you can see here. I'm very blessed to have such a resourceful wife.

* The answer is "if they wish to take the scenic route."

3 week stats

Young Mr. Lincoln weighs in at 7 lbs and has grown an inch to 19.5. 25th and 10th percentiles, respectively. The last bit of his cord fell off this morning, so first bath is a couple days away.

He's seeing his first movie tomorrow. Not sure what's playing yet, but Loews has a cool Tuesday matinee program called Reel Moms. We took Greta a couple times back in the day.

Summer vacation photos

Kodak isn't letting me rearrange the photos for some reason, so this is simply chronological order. Some decent shots. A very nice week was had by all.

Click for 18-photo slide show.

Home again, home again, jiggidy jig

I have no idea where that rhyme comes from, but Carey sings it often and it seems appropriate after a week on the road. The kids were champion travelers. Greta plays more independently in her car seat than she does anywhere else. And the soothing vibrations of the road lull Lincoln to sleep for three hour stretches.

We had a very nice week off, strolling the beach in Rye, N.Y., splashing in the sprinkler with our cousins and spending the afternoon with Joelle in Manalapan, N.J. I'll post a full slide show later or tomorrow, but for now, here's one image I like.

Bubble girl

I'm not sure when kids can start chewing gum, but Greta's ready for the day. Loves to watch me blow bubbles. Counts "1, 2, 3..." then waits for me to blow and pops! it with her finger.

Why my sister should have three kids

Cousins

We're visiting my sister in Rye, N.Y., this week, introducing her to Lincoln and giving Greta some quality cousin time. May not post again until the end of the week, but here are a few, admittedly mediocre, pix to keep the grandparents at bay.

Mall crawl

With temperatures well above 95 on Saturday, we ventured to Tyson's Corner for an air-conditioned shop fest. Greta bought her second ever pair of sneakers from Stride Rite. The clerk who helped her try them on kept calling her "he."

Greta decided the price was right -- $48!! -- and was very pleased to wear the shoes out of the store and carry the bag with her old shoes in it, just like Daddy remembers doing every summer after shopping for school sneakers.

Lincoln needed a nip after the shoe shopping, so he and Mommy set off for Macy's, where Carey had heard the women in the fitting lounge were particularly kind to nursing mothers.

Daddy and Greta headed to the LEGO store, where Daddy was shocked to see a Star Wars Millennium Falcon heavily advertised to arrive this fall -- and it could be yours for just $499.99. (Click here to purchase, I dare you.) I swear I built one myself in 1977 with Elmer's glue, pipe cleaners (remember those magical things?) straws and cardboard. Greta had a blast at the play table. She built a tower with 18 small pieces in it. I counted.

We topped off the day with a romp at the playland conveniently located near the food court. We last went there about five months ago and it was amazing to see how bold and confident our little girl has become. Sorry, no good pictures. But trust me -- she climbed and slid and mock-jumped (still refuses to leave the ground with both feet) for 30 minutes.

All in all, a lovely way to spend an otherwise too humid weekend in your nation's capital.

Daddy's boo-boo

My Birkenstocks cut into my ankle on Saturday while strolling the Mall. Being a man, I was content to loosen my sandal strap and let it heal on its own. But my eagle-eyed daughter this afternoon noticed it and implored me to give it proper first aid, which in her mind means "medicine" (Neosporin) and a Band-aid, my choice of Dora, Backyardigans or Little Pony. As you can see, I went with the pony, figuring it might grow into a stallion.

Cell phone quick pix

A few from this morning's adventure. Bagels for breakfast, local playground, farmer's market. Lather, rinse, repeat. Uncle Dudley met Lincoln for the first time, and Lincoln fed alfresco for the first time (from Mommy, not Dudley).

Photographic potpourri

DC heatwave

What to do when the mercury climbs past 90? Thomas & Friends at Barnes & Noble, natch. More photos later, when we're home and Comcast has fixed our neighborhood Internet connection.

What I'd like to do more of

Happy 231st, America

One-week report card

Vitals haven't changed much -- still one ounce shy of birth weight. Doing everything else on schedule. No short-term solution to his sleepiness during the day and wakefulness at night. Healthy sleep habits come later, says the doc. Looks like we're on track for a visit to see family in New York next week.

Note also the blog name change... we like the cut-line, but aren't enamored of the main title. So please keep suggesting them. We were tempted by the punnier suggestions -- "Merrilly We Roll Along" and "The More, the Merrill" -- but I'm reluctant to give naming rights to Jack's parents. I mean, we know them really only via their blog and if I used their suggestion, I'd be tacitly admitting that their blog is really far superior, even though I've been doing this longer. :-)

Here are a couple photos -- one from the hospital today and one from the weekend, as Greta checked out her little brother's hand.

Maternal observations

Hard to believe there can be so many changes in a mere seven days. I don't mean the obvious -- there's a fourth Merrill in the family, Greta is a big sister, our carefully crafted routine is now chaos -- I mean the ones no baby books warned me about. Like my sudden fear of turning corners with Lincoln in my arms, imagining I'm about to crack his head on the door jamb. Or how fast my heart beat when Greta leaned in to kiss him for the first time and I thought she was going to swat him across the head. I didn't know my stomach would lurch when both of them start to cry at the same time. And then what to do: Who do you comfort first? (I've been trying to soothe Greta, rationalizing that Lincoln's lungs need crying now and again.)

Other observations: On Saturday, Greta dropped the -my. She now calls me Mom, except when she's really whiny. No idea why. Maybe she heard me addressing my Mom all week? And when I rocked Greta before her nap on Sunday, she leaned in close and whispered, "No Lincoln, Mommy, just Greta." I wonder over the next days/weeks/months/years how we'll balance the relationship with each of our kids individually and collectively -- making sure they both feel nurtured and loved. And I can't help but wonder how I'll behave as a mother of two. I haven't had to worry about that this first week -- between Rob & Mom waiting on me hand and foot as well as helping with the kids.

By the way, this Cesarean hurts a lot more than the last. I'm still gobbling two percocets per dose and intend to use up all my pain meds! The doctor checks out me and Lincoln tomorrow, so hopefully his growth and my recovery are on track.

It's Monday morning now and Rob just dropped Mom off at the airport and Greta at daycare. That helps sink in all these realities. But as I rest here on the bed, with Lincoln's lips curled into a slight smile post-feeding, I can't help but feel happy about our two children and the promise I see in them every day.

Edvard Munch-kin