Harper on Sesame Street from Byrne Reese on Vimeo.

Another highlight of BlogHer was the Sesame Street Suite. The Sesame Street Foundation was one of the conference sponsors, and they had set up a room with a set that looked just like one of the brownstone stoops in the show. Grover and Abby Cadabby were there, along with their actual puppeteers, to film personal messages with or for kids. This is the video Harper made with his dad and Grover. We have already watched it approximately 5,024 times.

As many of you already know, Harper is pretty into Grover, and in the end, he was almost as excited to meet Abby Cadabby. Now he thinks the Muppets live in San Francisco, so we have to explain to him any time we mention the city that Abby and Grover were only there for a special party.

I have to admit, the experience was pretty exciting even for the adults. I was really impressed by the puppeteers, especially by how non-impressed the kids were by them. The kids didn't seem to notice that there was a person moving and speaking for the puppet. All they saw was their favorite character. It was a testament to the skill of these artists and to the true magic of what they do.

For the next couple of days, posts on HairyAlien will be filed by our guest blogger, Sesame Street Bureau Chief Harper Reese.

Dada! You are coming home in one day! Mama and I can't wait to see you.

For the next few days, posts on HairyAlien will be filed by our guest blogger, Sesame Street Bureau Chief Harper Reese.

Hi Dada! How is New York? I miss you!

Today I got to go to my toddler class at Montclair Community Play Center. Here I am working on a mixed-media masterpiece (tempera paint and cotton balls).

When we got home, Mama cooked one of my favorite dishes for dinner: pasta with homemade spinach pesto. I helped make the sauce! I like to dry the leaves in the salad spinner. You have to push hard (but not too hard)!

For the next several days, posts on HairyAlien will be filed by our guest blogger, Sesame Street Bureau Chief Harper Reese.

Dada! I hope you had fun and were safe going bye-bye on airplane! I will miss you while you are in New York City going to meetings and hanging out with my cousin Delia. Mama will help me post a picture of myself every day so you won't miss me too much.

For my first entry, here's a video from the archives. Remember a few weeks ago when I got to jam with the band at the farmer's market? That was fun!

"You hold it down while I whack it with this here shovel, see?"

Nana, Woody, and Harper

Me: I found a ladybug on my shirt when I was nursing Harper.
Byrne: What did you do?
Me: I feel bad ... I tried to hold it in my hand gently until Harper was finished so I could let it outside. But when I finally got up and opened my hand, I saw that I had accidentally squashed it.
Byrne: Nice job, Lennie.

Reunited, and it feels so good.

Dear Dad:
I know you'll only be at OSCON for a few days, but since this is your first trip away from me since I was born, I was worried that you might miss me. So Mama's helping me post a new picture of myself every day. I totally understand the ins and outs of Movable Type, it's just that my hand-eye coordination isn't quite up to snuff for using a mouse just yet, you know?

Love,
Bug

P.S.: I drank a whole bottle! I didn't like it, but I did it.

OAKLAND, CALIFORNIA -- In a once-peaceful household, two sides are engaged in a bitter standoff. No deaths have occurred but two parents have been reported injured by the cries of a resistance fighter, who is holding his ground and has refused to sit down for diplomatic talks.

The conflict stems from the parents' insistence that the little revolutionary drink from a bottle. In previous months, the rebel movement and the parental front have enjoyed a civil albeit occasional exchange of pumped breast milk via a colic-reducing bottle with silicone nipple. However, in recent weeks, the rebel movement has refused to engage in any form of sustenance obtainment that does not involve direct contact with the breast. General Dad has fought valiantly for the last 9 days, attempting a cease-fire in various venues and away from the scent of Colonel Mama, and has brought in additional reinforcements in the form of alternative bottles and nipples. Isolated victories have occurred in varying degrees, but no solution has yet proved effective in bringing lasting peace.

Tensions are mounting as the weekend approaches, as the parental army has planned a non-negotiable evening away in order to attend a wedding. If the resistance fighter refuses to agree to bottle feeding, then analysts expect he may go hungry for several hours and collateral damage may occur in the form of grandparental casualties and motherly guilt.

Anderson Cooper and Christiane Amanpor will continue to file exclusive reports from the front lines as developments occur.

Back before The Bug landed, Byrne and I went out to test-drive strollers. We liked the Peg Perego Pliko P3, for its sturdy feel, easy fold, car-seat click-in mechanism, and OK, its looks. But before we bought, I went to Amazon to read as many reviews as I could of the P3. One complaint that cropped up more than a few times was that the cup holder on the Italian-made stroller was too small to accomodate most drinks--chiefly, mega coffee drinks from a certain ubiquitous establishment. It seemed like a nit-picky gripe to me, and an annoyingly typical American one--apparently, our cup holders must be proportional to our cars, which means they should hold a 10-gallon bucket. In the end, we bought the stroller.

And tonight, the defamed cup holder proved more than sufficient for our needs. After a particularly challenging day, Byrne offered to take Harper out for a postprandial stroll so I could take a shower and have some quiet time. Before embarking, he mixed himself a refreshment to take along. Turns out the cup holder on the Pliko P3 is perfectly appointed to hold a normal-size plastic tumbler filled with a chilly Jack & Coke. And isn't that much better (and more useful to a harried parent) than a venti lowfat caramel frappuccino with extra whip?

Four weeks ago today, I embarked on what has been a most magical journey. At 6:04 p.m. on Friday, April 21, I was 37 1/2 weeks pregnant. At 6:05, my water broke and I was offically in labor and on my way to becoming a mother.

What follows is the story of my son's birth. Several people have asked me to post an account of that event, and it's taken me almost this entire month to write down all the details. Those of you who know me know that I can pay a little too much attention to details. The uncut version of this story, for example, is more than seven pages long in single-spaced 12-point Times New Roman. If you'd like to read that "special edition," complete with photos of the placenta, I'd be happy to forward you a copy. The rest of you, click on the link for the abridged (but still pretty darn long) version.

Wait, it's been 11 whole days since Harper was born? Get out!

It's amazing how time warps when you spend hours awake in the middle of the night. It's certainly been an eventful week and a half, sleep deprivation notwithstanding.

Here's just a sampling of the highlights:

• Billy Reuben has left the building!


• Harper's umbilical cord stump fell off when he was only 4 days old (again, at least a week ahead of schedule--this kid lives in turbo). He is now the proud owner of an adorable little innie.


• Harper had his first bath. He no likey.


• We went on some of our first family outings: On a stroll around the neighborhood, on an excursion to Target, on a long walk at the Berkeley Marina on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. Plus, Harper and his dad have a standing morning coffee date at Peet's that gets them out into the fresh air and gives Mama a chance to shower and have a peaceful breakfast.


• Harper met some new friends and received some lovely gifts.


• Harper's dad fixed our photo galleries so that now you can view all our family pictures at HairyAlien as well as at Majordojo. That's twice the HarperVision, people!

If my son grows up to be a writer, the villain in his first novel will be named Billy Reuben.

Turns out Harper has a case of jaundice, which is a somewhat common condition in newborn babies wherein the immature liver can't process excess bilirubin, a waste product that results from the breakdown of hemoglobin molecules from worn out red blood cells. Babies with jaundice often have a yellowish appearance in their skin or eyes (Know how bruises often turn yellow as they heal? Again, the culprit is bilirubin).

On Wednesday we took Harper in for his two-day checkup with his pediatrician, and we mentioned that we thought he was looking a little yellow in the eyes. She checked his skin and said he did look mildly jaundiced, but she thought on the diagnostic scale of 1 to 20, he was maybe at an 8. When she saw his eyes, however, she ordered a blood test...just to check. And a good thing it was: When the results came back, the kid was hitting 19.5 out of 20 on the scale!

The Bug® is now new and improved!

Introducing our son, Harper Ford Reese. Harper was born on Saturday, April 22 at 12:38 a.m., weighing 7 pounds 6 ounces and measuring 20 inches long.

More details are on the way, after we've all had some time to rest and continue to get acquainted. In the meantime, you can see more photos at Harper's dad's blog.

A lot of women I know get very antsy toward the end of their pregnancies--they want to have this baby now, they're sick of being pregnant, they're uncomfortable, they've had enough of the suspense already. Me? I've been quite content for the most part throughout this entire process. Don't get me wrong, I've had my restless nights, I've had my days when I feel like a fatigued, inanimate lump, I've had emotional spells where I freak out a little at the unknown territory that lies ahead. But, honestly, I've loved being pregnant. I've enjoyed every bizarre little change that my body and mind have gone through, I've loved feeling my baby move inside me, and I've felt confident and happy with the way I've looked.

That is, until recently--and this is the one way in which I can relate to women who have had enough of this whole pregnancy business.

Yesterday we laid eyes on The Bug for the first time. We're officially, madly, in love. Would you just look at this face???

The technician kept commenting on how cute our baby is (I'm sure she says that to all the parents), and how it was in the perfect position for her to examine all the important features. Everything looks healthy and on track developmentally.

The technician also kept referring to The Bug as a "cell-phone baby" because its position throughout most of the examination was with one of its hands held up next to its ear. Coincidentally, according to my monther-in-law, this pose was also a favorite sleeping position for both my husband and his sister when they were babies.

I wish the technician hadn't accidentally deleted our favorite freeze-frame of the session before she was able to print it: A shot of The Bug's face that was taken just as he or she opened its mouth--it looked like a big smile or a laugh. And sorry, no shots below the waist were printed for you sex-speculators out there!