8 week update

I'm official! I finally got my birth certificate in the mail as well as my social security card, which is great because that's what was holding me up on getting my first job. But wouldn't you know it - they spelled my middle name wrong on my social security card. They got "Kairos" right. They got "Rawert" right. But somehow they had trouble spelling the most normal looking part of my name - "Elizabeth Johnson". Apparently it causes problems when your middle name is 17 characters long because they dropped the final "n" altogether, much like Skidmore did when they gave Mom her e-mail account (rjohnso1). So anyway, now Mom and Dad have to gather together a bunch of official documents and stand in long lines at the social security office to re-prove my existence and citizenship. I guess that whole job search thing will have to be put on hold. That's ok. I really had my eye on Lehman Brothers anyway so now I'm back to the drawing board.


My appetite sure has picked up quite a bit after I got out of the hospital for my UTI visit. The same week that I was dischared, I gained 15 ounces in 5 days (going from 7 pounds even to 7 pounds, 15 ounces). I even ate 4 ounces in one sitting a couple of times! Yep - my plan is to skip pounds 8 and 9 and go straight to 10 pounds by my 2 month check-up next week.

You may recall that Mom was going to cut back on dairy products to ease my digestive issues. Well, it turns out that she's had to give it all up completely because I'm allergic to cow's milk. Mom and Dad discovered this when I started having my acid reflux issues. They read that many times dairy products cause the problem. Of course, there are other things that can often help alleviate acid reflux, too, like propping up the cradle on an angle, using a bottle nipple with a slower flow rate, and holding the baby upright for 30 minutes after feeding. Well, Mom and Dad changed all of those things at once and VOILA, the acid reflux and loud painful screaming went away. Now, Mom's research methods students would be quick to point out that changing all of the variables at once is bad science. But when your baby is displaying colicky symptoms, all you really care about is stopping the crying, not finding the cause. But since then, Mom and Dad decided to better test their hypothesis that the reflux was caused by the dairy by completing the ABAB experimental design. Afterall, Mom wanted to know if their freezer full of Stewarts ice cream really was off limits. So one day last week, Mom started off the day by eating all of the dairy products she could get her hands on: cottage cheese, ice cream, milk, butter, cheddar cheese, yogurt, oh my! And by the time my evening feedings rolled around, I was NOT a happy camper. The next day, Mom went back to her dairy-free diet and I went back to being a happy baby. TADA! Now I'm wondering what to do with the 50 ounces of "milky" breastmilk that Mom had previously pumped and has stored in the freezer. Is it legal to sell such a thing on ebay or is that sort of like selling a kidney?


When Grammie and Grandpa were here last week, Grammie kept getting me to smile by holding me and saying, "Smile for Grammie!" I'd do it but then stop before Mom and Dad had a chance to see it. HAHA!! I'm such a tease. Once the grandparents went back to Kentucky, Mom kept trying to get a real smile out of me and was finally able to, but only by saying in a highly inflected tone, "Smile for Grammie! Smile for Grammie!" Sorry, Mom, but Grammie is the only one worth smiling for. Either that or perhaps just the thought of Grammie gives me extreme gas.


Here's me cuddling with Grammie:

And here's me helping her decide what her bid should be during a game of 500:The second time that I smiled in front of Mom and Dad was late Tuesday night when my mom told me that Obama was going to be the next President of the United States. Seriously. Now that may surprise some of you, especially given the fact that I sleep with a stuffed elephant in my crib. But, Obama does claim to be the "Change we need" and with my frequent pooing and peeing, I need to be changed a lot.