Getting Blue

No, the title of this post does not refer to:

• My impending return to work next week (actually, I'm looking forward to some intellectual stimulation)
• The need to change Colorado's liquor laws to allow groceries to sell wine and full-strength beer, paving the way for Trader Joes to open shop in Colorado
• Micah's post-circumcision mood or color of any related parts of his anatomy.
  

No, it refers to the changing color of the gifts we received this weekend, compared to the pre-baby gifts that were all lovely gender-neutral greens and yellows. If there was any doubt in my mind about whether this is a boy-child (doubts that weren't erased by the fire-hose use of his equipment or the bris itself) we definitely have a boy here, who now has lots of blue puppy dogs, blankets, and even a grey and black plaid hat with matching vest and plaid pants. So cute! Off-setting all this lovely blue are plenty of frog-related items (thanks girlfriend Elana!). I'll try to get some pix of Micah in all his new Blue gear posted tomorrow.

In the meantime, two funny incidents from this week:
1. I was driving Micah for a follow-up appointment to check on his healing. The doctor's office was about 20 minutes away. I was happily listening to NPR in the car (something I haven't done much of since we've been back) and had practically forgotten that I was now someone responsible for a baby when I got 2 blocks away from the doctor's office and I realized -- it is very quiet back there! Did I forget the baby at home? I haven't figured out how to fasten the baby-view mirror to my leather upholstery, so I wasn't able to glance backward and see him. I distinctly remembered wrestling his car seat into the car. Did something happen to him and I've been merrily driving along without realizing it? How am I going to explain that? I would have pulled into a parking lot to set my mind at ease, but we were only 2 blocks away. I was very relieved to open up the back seat and see Micah completely dozed-out in his "bucket."

2) My aunt was telling my mother a piece of Jewish lore she heard that when a person converts to Judiasm, they get a new Jewish soul. She then asked my mother how Micah was doing after the bris, to which my mother replied "He's complaining a little more." "Of course he's complaining more, he's Jewish now!" was the conclusion they reached.

Finally, an interesting observation. I ran into a neighbor who I haven't seen since before we left for India, and I was telling her a little about our experiences there. I realized that, like they say about childbirth, the details of all our travails to bring Micah home have become a little less painful. I haven't forgotten all of the hassle and frustration, but it certainly doesn't rankle as much. So, if you are waiting for your baby in India, take cheer in the fact that the baby pick-up pain doesn't last forever, even though it felt like it would at the time.