Supernanny

Tim's mom went back to teaching school earlier this month, so she hasn't been able to watch Squiggles while I'm at work. Thankfully, my sister Cami's family has generously opened their home to my daughter.

Everything is going pretty well with a couple exceptions. Lately, the instant I arrive to drop off or pick up the baby, I am bombarded unsolicited advice: instructions as to where to put the baby, whether to give her a binky, whether she should be put in a bouncy chair, whether she needs to take a nap, whether I need to read her a book, what toy she'd like to play with, whether she is hungry or wants more food, etc. I know she means well, and it's hard to complain about somebody who clearly adores my infant... but that's another thing.

I think she's starting to think the baby is her baby - not mine. She gets upset when I come to get her, and sometimes even cries when we leave. I don't know what to do. I mean, I have enough pressure as it is, Ivy!

Any advice?

My niece the supermodel...

Happy birthday, Beautiful!

Your tax dollars at work.

It was a slow day in the lab.

Tim's 15 minutes (seconds, really) of fame.

http://www.thebostonchannel.com/video/24640087/index.html

Sigh...

Today, Tim taught Squiggles how to make farting sounds with her mouth. For what it's worth, she's quite good at it.

The art of doing science

Finally, the post everybody has been begging for, in which I explain my research! (Did I say "everybody"? Because that might be a stretch...) Anyway, I study a virus that kills babies. In order to find ways to stop or prevent viruses from being destructive, we usually have to start with the basics and find out exactly how it's working so that we can identify potential targets for drugs and vaccines.

I do this by sprinkling virus on top of cells and seeing what happens. The problem is that viruses and cells are far too small to see with the naked eye, so we have to get creative (and use microscopes, of course). We use special dyes and fluorescent molecules to label certain parts of the cell:

In the picture above, the nucleus (where DNA hangs out) is stained blue. The green staining is my virus. See the circular structures? We think those are virus hideouts, where the virus can go about replicating and making new baby viruses without cellular virus-killing molecules bugging them.

Now... get this. All three of the pictures below are of the same cell. The green circles are the virus hideouts we just talked about. The red blobs are virus-destroying molecules made by cells in people. Now look at the overlay image (far right) where the pictures are merged. My virus is hanging out with a potential virus killer! Now... why would it be doing that?

We believe the virus is recruiting the virus killer to either disable it, or to manipulate it into playing for Team Virus, and we're trying to figure out how and why. I'll keep you posted because I know you'll be wating with bated breath.

I have an art-director friend who calls me "Science" and often begins conversations with phrases like, "Hey Science, tell me about (insert obscure physics principle / medical condition / deep-sea creature about which I know absolutely nothing)..." He teasingly implies that I know everything about the physical world, and nothing about art, beauty, or abstract. That is partly true, but to us (me and my nerdy friends), the process of unraveling the complexities of molecules working in the human body can be as beautiful as Starry Night.

The very obscure secret of making an itsy-bitsy baby girl giggle

We have tried many times to get Squiggles to laugh by tickling her, talking in funny voices, tossing her gently in the air, and making faces at her... but no laughs - talk about a tough crowd!

This afternoon we played "War" in Nana's backyard with Tim's nephews. Who knew all I had to do was pretend to explode a little boy with a hand grenade to make my baby girl giggle for the first time?



Should I be concerned?