My sweet daughter giggled her head off today while I was changing her. We'd been getting smiles for a few weeks already, but these were the first real laughs. She apparently really likes a) being naked and b) her daddy's funny faces. I'm all melty again.

If anyone's been scouring their local stores for a belated Christmas/Hanukkah gift, overstock.com has a limited inventory of "Bachelor" Bob Guiney's CD on sale!

That would have been a perfect gift for our white elephant.

Someone stole the Magic Mirror. There's a special place in hell for people like that. [via Freakgirl]

Will it scar my daughter for life if I continue to utilize "Stinky" as my nickname of choice for her?

Is there anyone out there? Tell me about your holidays and your plans for the New Year. Entertain me, please!

Anyone who lived in the DC area in the mid-80s through early 90s will remember the sordid case of Elizabeth Morgan and Eric Foretich, a custody battle for then-infant Hilary Foretich, who was allegedly sexually abused by Foretich, her father and a prominent physician in northern Virginia.

A judge sent Morgan to jail for two years on contempt charges for absconding with their daughter in violation of a court order giving Foretich the right of unsupervised visitation. Morgan's parents secretly shuttled the girl to New Zealand, and later traveled to England and the Bahamas, while Morgan sat in jail.

After she was released, Morgan went to New Zealand to live with her daughter. An act of Congress in 1996 allowed Morgan to return with her daughter to the United States.

Now, the U.S. Court of Appeals for the D.C. Circuit has ruled that the "Elizabeth Morgan Act" passed by Congress in 1996 was a bill of attainder, because it singled out Foretich as unfit to have visitation with his daughter and thus branded him guilty of the sexual-abuse charges leveled by Morgan.

In an opinion written by Judge Harry Edwards and joined by Judge A. Raymond Randolph, the D.C. Circuit concluded that Congress singled out Foretich, now 61, by associating him with criminal acts of sexual abuse "despite the repeated and unwavering rejection of such claims by every court that considered them."

Since the abuse charges had been so definitively disproved, the two judges reasoned, Congress could not have been acting to protect Hilary from abuse, but only to stigmatize and punish Foretich, which it cannot constitutionally do.

The concurring opinion by Judge David Tatel takes a quite different view. Tatel argued that there was in fact significant evidence of abuse in the record. He noted that a D.C. Superior Court judge once found the evidence "in equipoise." Thus, Congress could well have had in mind the protection of Hilary, a legitimate goal.

However, Tatel concluded, Congress went too far since it barred Foretich from even having supervised visitation with his daughter, an arrangement that would protect her from abuse. Therefore, the only plausible motivation for the Elizabeth Morgan Act was to punish Foretich, and Tatel agreed that it was a bill of attainder.

Since Ellen Morgan is 21 and no longer under the jurisdiction of a family court, the appeals ruling has no impact on visitation or custody issues.

Foretich, however, believes that the ruling is important in vindicating him and clearing his name.

Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all of those who are celebrating today. I am eternally grateful for my friends and family, especially my amazing husband and my incredible daughter. I hope that all of you are as happy as I am today.

Eleanor finally had her 2-month well baby appointment today, after having it postponed last week due to her pediatrician having the flu.

She was an absolute angel at the appointment, and she's now tipping the scales at a whopping ten pounds, five ounces, is 22.5 inches long, and has a head circumference of 39 cm. She's right about average on length and head circumference, and has jumped from the third percentile in weight at birth to the twenty-seventh. Everything was just fine -- she's a very healthy and growing baby.

Then, there were the shots.

She only ended up getting two, because the office was out of one of the vaccines, and she received the Pediarix combination shot instead of separate shots for diphteria/tetanus/pertussis, hepatitis B, and polio. Still, once that first needle hit her pudgy little thigh, she turned bright red and began to scream like I've never heard her wail before.

I think I cried as much as she did.

Now that we're home, we're dosing her up with Tylenol to help with the discomfort and the low fever she's running, but she's alternately sleepy and miserable.

My poor peanut.

It's no secret that I'm a Law and Order junkie. While I have a huge crush on Jesse L. Martin, I'll always have a soft spot for Jerry Orbach. It seems I'm not alone.

Yes, I know I broke my blog.

All I did, I swear, was change what I am listening to, and added a new law under Es La Ley!

What the hell did I do wrong?

Nicknames for Eleanor, so far, and in no particular order:

Ellie (of course)
Ellie Belly
Ellie Bean
Ell Ell Bean
Ell Ell Cool J
El De Barge (thanks Jeff!)
Stinky
Senorita Poopiepants
Cranky McFussypants, or just Fussypants
Pumpkin
Pumpkin Pie
Peanut
Tootie/Tooter

We've apparently retired Fudgette, though.

OK, in the words of the inimitable Chicagowench, I may lose some of my punk rock stripes for admitting this information.

I was just sitting on the couch feeding Eleanor and watching the Today show, and I got weepy hearing Martina McBride sing this song...

In my daughter's eyes
I am a hero
I am strong and wise and I know no fear
But the truth is plain to see
She was sent to rescue me
I see who I want to be
In my daughter's eyes

In my daughter's eyes
I can see the future
A reflection of who I am and what will be
Though she'll grow and someday leave
Maybe raise a family
When I'm gone I hope you'll see
How happy she made me
For I'll be there...
In my daughter's eyes

I can't help it. Those big blue eyes, and those huge gummy smiles, reduce me to mush every single time. I love you, Ellie Bean.

Will Eleanor be warped if I choose to sing Pogues songs to her instead of more traditional lullabies?

Someone who shall remain marginally nameless sent me this quiz this morning, which I suspect was a hint about the stagnant nature of my blog template. Hey, I like this template! Julia did a fabulous job on it, and I adore the color.

Maybe I'll put the new template up for New Year's. I need to con my husband into helping me get it set up, since I know less than nothing about HTML. Sad, I know.

Anyway, yesterday was a Very Bad Day in Totland. Eleanor hadn't slept well since Friday night, and basically didn't nap at all yesterday and was completely melting down. By the time Dave got home from work, he commented that she looked like she'd been on a bender, with her puffy, red eyes and blotchy skin. We gave her a bath in hopes that it would calm her down, but she went into and came out of the tub screaming. I dried her off, got in the glider, turned off the lights, and fed her, after which she finally dozed off. We made the executive decision to just put her down to bed, so I tucked her into the bassinet around 7:15.

I decided to go to bed at 8:30, both because I was exhausted and because I was afraid that she'd wake up at 2 am and think it was morning.

She proved me wrong by sleeping until 3:45. Hallelujah! She ate and then went right back to sleep, where she stayed until about 6:45. Then I fed her again, and she dozed until 8:30, allowing me to shower and dress and get ready for our outing today.

We're heading out in the monsoon to my office for my department holiday luncheon. I'm hoping that her good mood of this morning, complete with gummy smiles, holds at least until 2 or so. I even baked! Alert the authorities!

I have done pitifully little Christmas shopping thus far, sad to say. We're not getting a whole heck of a lot for Eleanor, because I suspect that my mother alone, regardless of our pleading, will be providing her with enough toys to fill a small truck; however, I've only gotten a few things for Dave and nothing for anyone else.

What does this mean? It means, dear readers, that I have to go to Target.

Ellie's 2-month pediatrician appointment for tomorrow was cancelled, owing to her doctor, ironically, having the flu, so our next scheduled outing is on Wednesday, when we'll be heading to my office for my department lunch and gift exchange. I also have to bring a dessert, namely these nummies, so I'll also be paying a visit to the grocery store tonight on my way back. Thankfully, here in the land of strip malls, the Target is in the same complex as a giant Stop 'N' Shop.

This weekend was a nightmare as far as baby sleep was concerned (she was awake from 2-6 am Sunday morning and was up several times last night), so I'm hoping that since she's napped only a little bit today, she'll end up crashing for a longer period tonight. She's getting such a little personality now, which means that while we get a bunch of smiles and cute noises, I'm also having a harder time leaving the room she's in, because instead of just making her screechy "Bored now!" noise, she screams and cries until I'm back in sight. We're hoping this is just a phase.

She's getting so damn big.

The FDA plans to issue new formats for television commercials and magazine advertisements which promote pharmaceutical products to consumers , said FDA Commissioner Mark McClellan.

Possible changes include requirements for listing major points in a question-and-answer format or mandating larger type for the most crucial information, McClellan said. The new guidelines will allegedly also clearly state to companies what is and isn't permissible in such advertising.

McClellan has vowed to more doggedly pursue inaccurate or incomplete claims made by pharmaceutical companies after the FDA came under fire for letting companies repeatedly run misleading ads.

Dave and I are having our first date sans Peanut tonight, heading out to the Flyers-Devils game at the Meadowlands. Although the baby will be in the very capable hands of my mother-in-law, I am still inexplicably anxious about leaving her for three hours. Am I insane?

From the "growing like a magic weed" file, here's a shot of Eleanor from this past Monday, in her cute hoodie outfit:

Her big blue eyes melt me every time I look at her.

Oh, and she does still have that shock of dark hair; it's just hidden by the styling outfit here.

Stealing a few minutes to write while the Peanut is napping in her Pack and Play bassinet -- I'm so tired I can hardly see straight, as the baby has been eating a ton and thus is up a few times during the night, but I did manage to get the nightmare that is the dining room table mostly cleared off today. The table has unfortunately become the default dumping area for such diverse items as mail, baby clothes, diapers, the digital camera, the video camera, batteries, Christmas ornaments for the baby, etc. You get the picture. Anyway, today I managed to get all of the baby clothes upstairs, and got rid of a lot of excess paper that had just been accumulating without purpose.

I asked Dave a bit ago if he could also bring the Christmas decorations down from the attic. We're still undecided as to whether and/or where we're going to put up the tree, because we really have no room for it downstairs, but I think that it might help me feel a little more connected to the season if I got some decorations up. All we've got so far is the wreath that my mom kindly sent on the front door, and obviously I can't see that unless I'm getting the mail or whatever.

I want to make this Christmas special, as it's Eleanor's first one, but I feel so out of it. Not working means that sometimes I forget what day it is, and this crappy weather means that I haven't been getting out of the house, with or without the baby, as much as I'd like. Hence, I'm feeling a little sad and isolated.

Don't get me wrong -- the baby is the light of my life, and every second I get to stay home and spend with her is precious. She's already changed and grown so much, to the point where I silently beg her to slow down and stop getting older, just so I can savor the minutes more, but I have to admit that it's so exciting to see her smiling and watching me and otherwise becoming more of an aware little person and less of a helpless blob. I love her with my whole heart.

Anyway, I have not even thought about Christmas shopping yet. Actually, that's not true. I've ordered exactly two things for Dave. However, for me, this is unusual (me? like to shop? you're kidding me!) and also bad. I really need to get my butt in gear, and to think about whether we're going to even send holiday cards. I think I might just do a post-holiday card/birth announcement thing instead, since I'm not even done with my thank you notes for all of the baby gifts.

Scatterbrained entry. Scatterbrained mommy. And now Eleanor is squeaking, so I must pause.

All I have to say is that Melana Scantlin is a total shallow bitch.

Leslie Harpold has kindly put up her Advent calendar for this year. I'm not quite in the holiday spirit yet, so I'm happy to see it.

More later on our harrowing 6.5 hour drive from Massachusetts to NJ today.

Wow, time has really gotten away from me with respect to catching up here. The Peanut will be seven weeks old on Thursday, which completely blows my mind, and she and I will be celebrating by heading up to Massachusetts to accompany Dave on a business trip. We plan on getting together with a bunch of his relatives whom we met at that reunion this past summer in New Hampshire, which should be fun both for us and for his relatives who haven't met the tot.

She's growing by leaps and bounds, and every day I both want her to keep going and also to stop immediately -- time just goes by so quickly and I fear that I'm missing so many things in the rush to feed, change, entertain, clean, do laundry,write thank you notes, etc. There's so much going on, and all I want to do is sit and stare at her and try to figure out what's happening in her brain.

This week, it's like someone flipped a switch on her cognition -- she's yammering and smiling and just generally interacting a whole lot more than she had before. It's just amazing.

I never thought that I could love someone this much. It makes my heart hurt to think about it.

Tonight, it's her first viewing of A Charlie Brown Christmas.Yes, I am fully aware that she will have no idea what she's looking at. I don't care.

Philadelphia's troll-like district attorney, Lynne Abraham, has finally rescinded a provision in her office's dress code that required female attorneys to wear skirts.

When I did my internship with the Department of the Army at the Pentagon during law school (1991-1994), my boss was a woman who would not allow the female office staff, including the interns, to wear pants. I hated it, both in the winter when I froze and even more in the DC summer when I had to wear pantyhose with my skirts and dresses.

It's nice to see that the Philly DA's office is moving into the future.