WHAT ABOUT BOB?

Out of all the celebrities out there, you look most like Bob Dylan.  This is according to a computer program.  I don't quite see Bob in you, or you in him.  But what is interesting though is that for the past week before we ever found out you had an uncanny resemblance to Bob Dylan, you had been listening to his music nightly.

Thanks to Dad your night time lullabies haven't been the simple lyrics about stars that twinkle or babies rocking on a treetop.  Rather, what calms you into a lull are the political, social and philosophical influences of Bob Dylan's poetic power.  Bob Dylan's been credited as being one of the most musically and culturally influential figures of the 20th century.  Is that why dad makes you listen to his music?  Maybe in part, but Dylan is also a Minnesotan.  Did I tell you your dad's a Minnesotan too? 

MISS MATCH

Your dad's baby fashion sense is slowly improving.  Gone are the days of Dad sending you in pajamas to daycare.  He's dressing you in real clothes.  Designer baby Tea outfit?  Not bad.  But don't look too closely though.  Apparently he couldn't find matching socks and resorted to putting one on with pink trim and another one on with green trim.  I could see why you wouldn't be smiling in this picture.  I'd be pretty distraught if I had to spend all day in mismatched socks too. 

BALLCOCK

After over 3 months of waiting, you finally got to participate in your first of many trips to Home Depot. Your dad's favorite store. When he's not at Intel or home, this is where you can usually find Dad these days. Thanks to the internet, Home Depot's book section, Arnie (Portland's cheapest contractor), and a few day laborers off MLK Boulevard, Dad has completely rebuilt the house from the studs out.

Dad liked all this home improvement stuff so much that at one point he contemplated a career change. From an electrical engineer who designs the applications processor of cell phones (the chip that turns a phone into a computer), to a steel-toed hardhat wearing contractor? He decided against it when he realized that he's never seen a contractor drive a nice truck. Well, maybe that was just part of his reason against it.

But back to Home Depot. On your first shopping trip there was something that caught your eye.

What was it that had you so enthralled? A 12-inch ballcock. A ballcock? Out of all the thousands of items in Home Depot, and this is what caught your eye?
Even if it was just $7.87, Dad said you're too young for one. I wonder what the person who named the ballcock was thinking. On second thought, I know exactly what he was thinking...

TAG

Talented and gifted...."Look Mom, one hand and eyes closed!"

3 months old and holding your own bottle. Not only holding your own bottle, but with one hand! Not bad, considering this doesn't usually happen for at least another 3 months. The photo doesn't quite show it, but you're actually holding the bottle. No, it's not resting on your little pot belly. Pretty amazing. Well, at least amazing to a first-time mother, who's always comparing her baby to all the baby benchmarks.

Although a coworker saw this picture and one-upped you. His son used to hold a bottle with his two feet as a baby. I was tempted to make a comment with the word monkey in it, but thought better than to use the words monkey and son in the same sentence. That coworker was my manager. The manager in charge of my yearly bonus.

MY AIM IS TRUE

Your dad and I had a battle over your name and he won. I let him. Really, I did. If I really wanted to win the name game, you'd now be known as Ellison Jane Hansen. Ellis for short. Can't say why I picked that one out, other than it's original and I had never met anybody named that before. As for Alison I think the main reason I let Dad have his pick is because with the house remodel, he'd been letting me have my way with a lot of the decisions. Actually, pretty much all the decisions. So, I figured it was only fair to finally let him get his way with something.

Besides, I made the following concession that in exchange for him naming our first-born child, in event of a second child, I would get naming rights. And if it was a girl, I was naming her Ellison. Alison and Ellison? I admit I used this ploy as one last attempt at getting my way. Would your dad risk having two girls with such similar names, or would he avoid it altogether by giving in to Ellison? Well, you know the answer to that question, Alison.

The inspiration for your name? Elvis Costello. Only your dad's most favorite singer of all time. Declan Patrick MacManus, known by the stage name Elvis Costello, is an English singer-songwriter. He came to prominence as an early participant in London's pub rock scene in the mid-1970's and later became associated with the New Wave musical genre. Steeped in word play, the vocabulary of Costello's lyrics is broader than that of most popular songs.

Had you been a boy, Declan was up there on your dad's list. But back to Elvis Costello. On his "My Aim is True" album he has a song titled, "Alison," and that is where you got your name. Here are the lyrics...

Oh it's so funny to be seeing you after so long, girl.
And with the way you look I understand
that you were not impressed.
But I heard you let that little friend of mine
take off your party dress.
I'm not going to get too sentimental
like those other sticky valentines,
'cause I don't know if you've been loving some body.
I only know it isn't mine.
Alison, I know this world is killing you.
Oh, Alison, my aim is true.

Well I see you've got a husband now.
Did he leave your pretty fingers lying
in the wedding cake?
You used to hold him right in your hand.
I'll bet he took all he could take.
Sometimes I wish that I could stop you from talking
when I hear the silly things that you say.
I think somebody better put out the big light,
cause I can't stand to see you this way.

Alison, I know this world is killing you.
Oh, Alison, my aim is true.
My aim is true.

That's the story of how you got your name. You can thank Elvis Costello. I at one point asked if we could spell Alison with two l's. Your dad told me we couldn't, or it wouldn't be the Alison from Costello's song. So now undoubtedly you will be constantly correcting people on the spelling of you name. Sorry, I tried.

WHO'S YOUR MOMMY?

With a newborn everyone is always curious to see who the baby resembles- Mom or Dad. With you it was no different. Everyone said you looked just like your dad. In fact all anybody saw in you was your dad. Some said they didn't see any Japanese in you, others said you looked really white. Is that such a bad thing? I don't know.

All I know is that after 9 months of carrying you, 7 months of nausea, countless nights of only 4.5 hours of sleep, and 23 pounds later, all I had to show for it was a baby that looked nothing like me. Were you even my baby? Had the nurses switched you at birth? Or were you the mailman's child? Wait, how would that work?

Regardless, I felt a little left out. Days out of the house I sometimes had the suspect feeling that strangers thought I was the nanny. Paranoid? Maybe.

Then three months into your life, it finally happened. A total stranger (the photographer) said you looked just like me! All this while your dad was in the same room for comparison's sake. Just to be sure I asked the photographer if she saw any of your dad in you. Besides the same balding head, not really. Finally somebody saw me in you, and it made my day.

But then on second thought, you look a lot like someone else...

See the resemblance? And so if you and the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man look alike, and you finally look like me, does this mean that I bear a strong resemblance to the guy too? Hmm...sounds like someone will be headed to the gym after this to work off those last few pounds of pregnancy weight.

DAYCARE

You've made it through your first week of daycare at Julie's. Little did I know that your dad has been sending you there in pj's. What kind of parents does Julie think we are, letting our kid run around in pj's all day. Not only her, but all the other parents that have seen you, the new kid, in pj's every single time they drop off and pick up their own kids. Morning to night, you have been in pj's.

Is it a faux pas to keep you in pj's because it's an inconvenience to put real clothes on you? Or is it brilliance?

On my day off during the work week I dressed you in real clothes for daycare, much to your dad's dismay. The bar has been raised. I wonder what Dad will have you wearing to daycare next week.