Hey Jakey,

The house is very quiet right now. Daddy put you in your crib a couple of hours ago and told me not to pick you up, no matter how long you cried. It made *me* cry watching you struggle, and scream, and your eyes got all puffy, but about 45 minutes into it, you fell asleep, and you're still asleep. I told your daddy that you weren't sleeping in that crib all night, and he agreed, but, to his credit, his little experiment worked, and you finally did settle down.

There are two warring schools of parenting, Jakey: attachment parenting and CIO, or Cry It Out. I'm very much of the attachment parenting philosophy. I nurse you on demand, I wear you in a sling, you sleep in the bed with us. But when something works, darling son, I have to investigate. You're teaching me this. I can't be a slave to a concept or an ideal or something that I read in a book. I'm learning to pick and choose, take what I need and leave the rest. I'm learning to be flexible when it comes raising you up, dear heart.

Or maybe I'm just telling you this now because I feel guilty that I let your dad railroad me into something I didn't want to do tonight. Time will tell.

I took you to the park today. I did a little experiment of my own. I'm trying to get more comfortable with nursing you in public. I nursed you during a meeting at Sally's house. You started getting fussy, and I nursed you, right there in front of Sally, Becca and Travis! Eeek! I'm getting brave. So today at the park, you were hungry, so I found an empty dugout and nursed you there. Then a couple of guys walked up and started playing catch, and instead of scrambling to get gone, I let you finish at your leisure, buttoned up, and we walked casually away. Yay for me! Becca always used to nurse Kai-bear wherever, whenever. I told her that I would too, if I had perky little boobs like hers. But I have these huge, floppy feed bags that swing around, and getting you latched on with any sort of grace or decorum is almost impossible. I'm getting better, but it'll probably never be a completely pretty thing.

Well, sweet thing, the money's gone. Until my first paycheck from going back to work arrives, or when Sally pays me for the freelance (yeah, that usually takes about 2 months...) I have about $50 in the bank account. I spent the last of the "maternity leave" money getting the car fixed. $315 to get the brakes done, and (drum roll, please...) $587 to pay for last year's registration, and the year upcoming. I'm kicking myself for not holding off on registering the truck until I had a paycheck again, but I just got sooooo tired of always looking in the rear-view, watching for cops to pull me over for expired tags.

I hate living like this. I want to spend! I want to shop! Yeah, mommy has issues.

I talked to my mom on the phone tonight. She's going to be here on Wednesday! She was here the first week of your life, Jake, so I'm sure you don't really remember her. She loves you to death already. Hey, that's the name of Billy Crystal's new book about being a grandfather: I Already Know I Love You. She's going to try and spoil you rotten, I know it.

She had my baby book out while she was talking. When I was your age, she was recording all sorts of shit that I know I should be recording, like "April 27: rolled over for the first time," or "July 2: pulled up for the first time." Man, so many of these milestones that I should be writing down have already passed and I haven't made any notes about it. My mom certainly didn't blog, though, that's for sure. Thirty-six years from now, I'll be able to look back at this entry and see "April 18: Jake cried himself to sleep for the very first time." THERE's a proud moment for me to remember.

I turned on the baby monitor for the first time yesterday. As soon as I turned on the receiver, I heard a baby crying, and it wasn't you. I was picking up some random baby somewhere in the neighborhood, crying for his mommy. It was kind of spooky, but it was kind of cool, too. Tangible evidence that there's at least one other mommy out there, nearby, keeping tabs on her baby while she tries to get shit done around the house. The crying eventually stopped. Either he fell asleep or mommy came and got him. I wish I knew which...