Eyes
At birth, Birdie's eyes were very, very dark, dark enough to fall into and not come back out, which pragmatically is more or less what happened to me. Only a month and a week later they are starting to have different variations in color, although apparently they won't stabilize for 9 or more months so it's a premature to render a final verdict on the end result.
Early on, while giving her a late night bottle in a dark room by minimal light I looked down and had the momentary thought that she looked sort of like a grey alien, with this enormous baby head and incredibly dark eyes. This is a disturbing thing to think about ones only child, which is why I was somewhat relieved when reading Operating Instructions, as I found that Anne Lamott has a variation on a theme when discussing her son's eyes in the entry for September 22, namely:
...but all you see when you look at him are his eyes. They're not quite human; they're more like those of a gentle extraterrestial.
So at least I'm not the only one having weird thoughts about my baby late at night. You could also argue that being up late at night with little sleep can lead to interesting hallucinations, which I would not dispute. Honestly, with the incredibly weak and floppy neck and the comparatively giant head, Birdie could conceivably be mistaken for E.T. at a distance in the dark. Fortunately, she does not (yet) glow in the dark.
A trio of M's closest friends from high school included a copy of Operating Instructions in a care package full of snacks and goodies that they sent along. It's very good, not least of which is because Lamott's son was born right before the 1989 World Series and Lamott is a Giant's fan, so hearing her dog on Jose Canseco is vastly entertaining.
Early on, while giving her a late night bottle in a dark room by minimal light I looked down and had the momentary thought that she looked sort of like a grey alien, with this enormous baby head and incredibly dark eyes. This is a disturbing thing to think about ones only child, which is why I was somewhat relieved when reading Operating Instructions, as I found that Anne Lamott has a variation on a theme when discussing her son's eyes in the entry for September 22, namely:
...but all you see when you look at him are his eyes. They're not quite human; they're more like those of a gentle extraterrestial.
So at least I'm not the only one having weird thoughts about my baby late at night. You could also argue that being up late at night with little sleep can lead to interesting hallucinations, which I would not dispute. Honestly, with the incredibly weak and floppy neck and the comparatively giant head, Birdie could conceivably be mistaken for E.T. at a distance in the dark. Fortunately, she does not (yet) glow in the dark.
A trio of M's closest friends from high school included a copy of Operating Instructions in a care package full of snacks and goodies that they sent along. It's very good, not least of which is because Lamott's son was born right before the 1989 World Series and Lamott is a Giant's fan, so hearing her dog on Jose Canseco is vastly entertaining.