11.13.08 :: 10:36 am

Dear Oliver,

Several days ago you turned four months old. Get a job already. Iím kidding. Youíre allowed to freeload for a few more years.

The reason this entry is late is because there have been some major changes to our lives. First of all, we packed up our entire house and moved this operation over to the East Coast.

You went on your first plane ride ever! It went pretty well, considering how filled with doom I was about the prospect of making the trip with you by myself. The people on our flight loved you. You were quiet the entire five hours apart from about 4 minutes of freaking out from the pressure change and bumpy landing. Mostly, you chilled out on my lap and watched Nickelodeon. That will be the only time you are allowed to watch 4 uninterrupted hours of television, by the way, so donít get any ideas.

Upon our arrival, we set up temporary shop at my motherís apartment, which is even smaller than our open loft in LA. Imagine the sheer torture of trying to put you to sleep and then having to sit really really still so as not to wake you. Basically, I imagine the waiting room in Hell to have the same feeling.

You managed OK, but your sleep was severely affected and you were waking up every hour on the hour much to my utter dismay. Iíve never been so suicidal. This is another thing I will remind you of constantly when youíre old enough. Nothing like sharing misery! What are families for!

I have to say, New York suits you. You love it here. This is mostly due to the introduction of a stroller in your life. Itís like valium to your spasticated soul. I put you in, and weíre rolling along not ten minutes before youíre passed out cold. You love the view from your reclined state, and thereís no shortage of stuff to look at here. The leaves are changing, there are PEOPLE everywhere (where before, you only saw maybe six or seven) and the sounds are overwhelming enough to become white noise.

We moved into our new apartment in Brooklyn this week. You actually have your own room! Fancy! Youíre moving on up in the world. You slept like a baby, an actual baby, last night. I thank you from the bottom of my zombiefied, exhausted heart.

Also big news is we have a new president! And heís black! Iím still celebrating and drunk with glee. This hasnít affected you in any way right now but the impact of such wonderfulness on your life in the years to come remains to be seen. I think the state of affairs when youíre older is going to be much different and more positive. I just wanted you to know that you were brand new to the world when the direction of this country changed. I know my outlook has changed as well and Iím hopeful that when I shuffle off this mortal coil, you wonít be left with a total disaster of a country or planet.

Iím going to wrap this up because youíre squirming in my lap with a load in your pants and itís almost time for us to go to the pediatrician and get you jammed full of needles. I love you so much, Iím paying for this experiencing out of pocket. We may have elected the first black president but weíre still miles from fixing the abysmal state of health care.
Baby steps.
Baby steps.


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