Apologies for the long wait in between updates, my loyal fans. It
was unavoidable, though. We've had quite an adventure. We are
currently living in Pleasant Hill, California in a cute little
two-bedroom apartment that is much bigger and much nicer (and more
expensive) than we needed, but it is in the perfect location and,
more to the point, we were allowed to live here despite the brevity
of our stay.
James takes the car to work everyday. He drives for 25 to 50
minutes depending on the traffic... I think it's usually closer to 30
to 40, but you'd have to ask him. I have yet to drive since we've
been here. I'm scared of the drivers around here. They are so
aggressive! I am not an aggressive driver, however, and so I feel a
lot less safe. I haven't exactly practiced driving assertiveness.
I walk everywhere that I need to go. Jesse (James' brother) and
his family live about a half-hour walk away... the church building is
about that close. There are three grocery stores that I'm aware of
within that half-hour radius (two Safeways and a Lucky)--four if you
count a restaurant supply store, and if I'm willing to walk a tad
farther, I can get to a Sprouts. There's a post office close by, and
our bank has a branch inside one of the Safeways. And, most
importantly, the library is about a twenty minute walk away.
This is super important because, well, we do not have Internet at
the moment. Our apartment costs us, roughly, a whopping $1500 each
month, and then suddenly we have to pay gas and car maintenance for
James' commute (he used to take the bus when we lived in
Springfield). Oh, and it seems like our grocery bill has gone up too.
I don't know how permanent that is, but part of it was inflated
because at first we didn't know which store has the cheapest Swiss
chard and which store has the cheapest almond butter, for instance.
So, yeah, Internet. If we just live without our home Internet and
canceled Netflix, we have a fair amount of extra money every month.
This has had its disadvantages, but all in all, I'm actually pleased
with the change. What this means is, if I want to use the Internet, I
absolutely HAVE to get off my lazy
butt and walk for half an hour. There's the library, there's Jesse
and Jenny's house, and there's even the church building. We have
enough Internet for our needs.
What our Internet-less home ALSO
means is that both James and I are spending A LOT less time
squandering our life away reading everything to be read on the Web. I
thought I was pretty good about not idling away my time too much, but
apparently there was a lot MORE time I could have shaved off. I've
had to suck it up and pretty much hide all but Griffins and Diltsen
from my Facebook news feed.
This was, I'll admit, a little
heartwrenching. I thought, Oh
man, I absolutely CAN'T hide so-and-so from my news feed. I heart her
face and I want to know everything that's happening in her life.
And then I realized that I heart too many people's faces, so if I'm
not checking the Internet every two hours every day, then I will have
about two hours worth of stuff on Facebook to sort through every two
or three days. Um, doom. I do not have that sort of time.
So
I ruthlessly hid all-a-y'all who ain't related to me. I figure if I'm
all that curious and I actually do have extra time, I can stalk you
as much as I want by actually going to your personal wall. Brilliant.
Now I only devote about ten minutes to Facebook when I do check it,
and I hardly click on any of the links anyone shares.
I've done a
similar thing with my email account. I ruthlessly unsubscribed from
all sorts of stuff I had previously thought worth my precious time to
look at, but since I now only have a few minutes a week to check my
email, I just got rid of it all.
So, what have I
done instead of browse the Interwebs endlessly when Amelia does not
require my attention?
The
same thing I used to do before I had Internet—or for that matter,
obscene amounts of homework. (Oh my gosh, that was over a decade
ago.) I am reading gazillions of books. Since I've been in
California, I've read: Small
Gods
by Terry Pratchett, Introvert
Power
by Laurie Helgoe, Lords
and Ladies
by Terry Pratchett, Alcatraz
versus the Evil Librarians
by Brandon Sanderson, Alcatraz
versus the Scrivener's Bones
by Brandon Sanderson, Alcatraz
versus the Knights of Crystallia
by Brandon Sanderson, Alcatraz
versus the Shattered Lens
by Brandon Sanderson, and A
Spell for Chameleon
by Piers Anthony. I am about one hundred pages into Mistborn
by Brandon Sanderson and am waiting extremely impatiently for whoever
has Men at Arms
by Terry Pratchett checked out to turn it in so I can get on reading
all the Discworld books in order. I also have The
Eye of the World
by Robert Jordan on hold. (I've been waiting to start the Wheel of
Time series until it was finished entirely, and well, it's finished
and now I have no excuse.)
Huh. So I guess
I've really only read eight books in the last three weeks, but I say
that's totally impressive given the amount of time I spend tending
the Amelia-bot. I haven't spent much time socializing with the people
here, but I'm beginning to suspect that I'll be happy without them.
After all, I have enough Diltsen to hang out with and enough books to
read, plus I'll only be here for a little over three more months.
Often, it hardly seems worth the immense effort it takes me to make
friends considering that it took me a year and a half in Springfield
before I felt like I had friends.
The Amelia-bot
2000 had some difficulty adjusting to the new environment at first,
but this was to be expected. I think after about three days, she
finally started to recognize our new apartment as home base.
We celebrated her
first birthday a few days late by eating “birthday cake” (i.e.
rice krispies Dilts-style) with Jesse and Jenny's family. It wasn't
much of a party, and it wasn't even our idea. She didn't get any
presents besides the big box of board books Katie and Peter sent her.
(Thank you!) Oh, and I suppose I got her a xylophone, but this was
unveiled during the big car ride down to California rather than on
her birthday.
Amelia is not
walking yet. That's all right. She is demanding as ever, and I fear
she'd be much quicker if she could walk, so I'll just say I'm lucky.
She loves bathtime
with a passionate fire of firey passion. If I am showering without
her... wo is me! For I shall receive a cacophonous earful in an
echoey bathchamber while she tries her best to climb into the tub
with me, fully clothed. Sigh. And she's close to succeeding in her
bath entry attempts.
All in all, this
is BY FAR the nicest apartment we've ever lived in. I'd probably want
to stay here longer if we didn't have to pay for it. We have a lot of
empty space in this apartment, which I've always enjoyed. Space is
luxurious. Furniture-wise, we have only a queen-sized bed and a
kitchen table and chairs. That's it.
Amelia sleeps with
us, so the second bedroom is essentially the play room. And the
living room is completely bare, so that is practically the
running-around-in-circles room. We have our first backyard (miniature
though it may be) and the countertops in the kitchen and bathroom are
granite (or more accurately they look granite—I doubt it's real).
We have our very first kitchen table and chairs, which is nice,
though I've been shocked to discover that Amelia can reach well over
the edge and can pull nearly everything off of it.
So
perhaps you won't be shocked to discover that, within a week, she got
hold of BOTH my pairs of glasses (despite them having been placed in
what I thought were secure locations), and broke them, fairly
irreparably. One she broke at the nose bridge. The other, she twisted
off one of the arms; it's twisted enough that no screw can hold it
together anymore. Doom!
I
was a little panicked about this at first since I needed an eye exam
for a new prescription... and we couldn't really afford that, let
alone a whole new pair of glasses. But! The Lord always provides, and
we received an anonymous donation from someone in our new ward who
recognized a need and decided they didn't need $100 for themselves.
(I think it would be so cool to be able to do that. This seems to be
one of the many benefits of self-reliance.)
Anyway, so I got
my eye exam on Thursday and then ordered a new set of glasses.
(Incidentally, did you know you can get great deals on the Internet
for glasses?) I knew what shape of lens looks good on me, so I found
one that shape, and this time, I got memory titanium frames. You
know, the basically unbreakable kind that you can also twist around
your finger if you want to. And I even got a hydrophobic and
oleophobic coating on the lenses so they'll stay cleaner longer and
be easier to clean. Awesome!
So yeah. Amelia
the Destructo-bot, should she get hold of my new glasses (and I shall
redouble my efforts to prevent this), will have to work extra hard to
destroy them.
Money is coming
from everywhere. Pay your tithing, folks. That's all I can say. Pay
your tithing and when the Spirit leads you to do something crazy, do
it.
Seriously, I can't
really fathom how we are paying for our little California adventure.
The price of moving and living here is so great that it totally
requires divine intervention for us not to go broke. I'm not sure why
it is so important that James needed to come to this general
relativity (though there are some obvious vague guesses, like meet
other researchers in his field, etc.), but from the very beginning, I
knew he needed to go. I felt like that even though at the time I
thought that meant I'd be in Oregon for four months without him.
But
miracle after miracle has facilitated this experience for us. First,
James' advisor's grant got funded by the NSF—in
full,
even after the government supposedly cut back on science spending. So
that meant Amelia and I could come too, because James will be
receiving $1000 each month from that grant to help pay rent. Then,
another miracle, we found the perfect location in which I personally
would not go crazy. In fact, this is quite possibly the most ideal
location I've ever lived in for anti-craziness. I could never have
picked a better location if I had been looking for it.
Money is
practically falling out of the sky for us. I already mentioned how
money for my glasses materialized from a kind soul in the ward. I got
a survey in the mail today which I will get $40 for completing, which
will cover the extra glasses expense. We got our oil change and our
tire rotation both for free, coincidentally. James' advisor let us
store all our possessions in his garage for free so we don't have to
pay for storage. Some days, James is getting paid $70/day to take
notes on stuff he was planning to take notes on anyway. And it even
looks like we'll get money for babysitting too, perhaps as much as
$45/week. Um, seriously, the Man Upstairs is just making stuff up
now. He's not even trying to make up good excuses to give us money
anymore or pretend like it isn't Him meddling in our lives. I mean,
getting paid to take notes? Pssh. It's gotten to the point that it's
almost impossible to worry about finances because somehow, everything
is getting paid for with relative ease.
And—there
were even miracles to help me get comfortable here. Not surprisingly,
I felt a bit uprooted once we got here, and I actually even felt some
culture shock. California culture is apparently just barely different
enough from what I'm used to that I feel out of place here. After
about twenty minutes at church the first Sunday, I was extremely
discouraged and lonely. And right when I was feeling my worst, I
looked down at the Relief Society newsletter being passed around—and
I recognized the baby picture on it. I knew that baby's mother! I
already knew someone in this ward.
I felt so relieved.
And then we went
to a barbeque after church to meet other ward members... and BAM. We
immediately met a Serbian woman who was absolutely thrilled to have
someone to speak Serbian with. She even brought out her visiting
mother (who doesn't speak English) so she could join in too. I was
shocked to realize how much of the Serbian conversation I understood.
I understood noticeably less of what the mother was saying because
she was Bosnian, but I was still shocked that understood as much as I
did.
AND. (Yes, there's
another and.) This ward is filled with one-year-olds. If nothing
else, there are tons of other families we have something in common
with—babies. Whabam. Miracles, miracles, miracles.
Money and love,
Jenna and
Amelia-bot
P.S. Amelia now
has four teeth—she sprouted two on top, though they aren't visible
in pictures yet.
P.P.S. I really appreciate comments.
Sunday, September 8, 2013
Saturday, July 20, 2013
Eleven Months
Gosh, I haven't been writing on here as frequently as I used to. And double gosh, I may be taking a months-long hiatus when we move to Berkeley and live largely Internet-less. I guess that could be okay. One of the biggest purposes of my blog is to soothe myself through write-it-out therapy. I haven't needed it as much since Amelia's sudden improvement after visiting the chiropractor at six months.
But today... Today I need it. I am more harried than usual. I suppose then, that the following will all sound rather pessimistic and melodramatic. Please keep in mind that this is a skewed version of reality and that Amelia is mostly sunshine and giggles.
Amelia, I believe, is kind of in between the baby and toddler stages. I think they call it the "older baby" stage. Yes, she's mobile. Horizontally, vertically, diagonally, diurnally, nocturnally, you name it and chances are... she is indeed mobile in the manner of that adverb. The stairs are kind of a scary place for me. If I set her down, she makes a beeline for them. I sometimes feel as if she's trying to become stairmaster within the week or something. Stair fetishes are scary things.
I'm grateful that she isn't walking yet... I have a nasty feeling that she'll get speedier once she can actually run anywhere she wants to. Oh, and not to mention that she'll be able to get into more things. Doom.
The little lady is insatiably curious. She loves water, which is also a tad scary. Another thing she makes a beeline for... the toilet. I am glad we have a toilet lock, as annoying as it is. I am dreading the day she figures it out, for then I'd have to worry about her possibly playing in it, drowning in it, splashing its unsanitary water all over the bathroom, flushing valuables down it, etc.
Ay caramba.
Oh, and yes, we are still doing that elimination communication thing. With mobility, though, came a newfound desire to NOT sit on the potty for longer than is absolutely necessary, because that is BOR-ING! So... yeah. She's in a "I'm way too busy to sit on a potty. I'd rather pee while exploring the house!" phase. It's mildly frustrating when I know the little vixen needs to release a turd, but she won't sit on the pot. And then it gets even more scream-inducing when she does poo in her diaper... and by the time we notice that she's soiled herself and change the offending diaper, her bum is already bleeding from poo exposure. And, gosh, is it difficult to get all the fecal matter out of all the nooks and crannies of a wriggly, writhing female baby... bleeding bum or no bleeding bum. Diapering a mobile baby is quite the adventure.
Amelia eats everything. She can handle pretty much anything we're willing to give her. Recent favorites include air-popped popcorn, strawberries, pineapple, bread, pizza, chicken nuggets, and... well, ANYTHING that we happen to be eating. Sometimes I just don't see the point of giving her "her own" portion, because she won't eat what we give her. She much prefers to steal our portions.
The baby lady is absolutely convinced that if she sleeps, she will miss out on all the wonders of the world. So, of course, she resists falling asleep no matter how tired she is. It is a rare occasion when she falls asleep without lots of help. And help usually means that I nurse her for five to sixty minutes. (Ugh. The sixty minutes gets a little laborious. And then it gets frustrating when it takes sixty minutes to get her to sleep... and then she only sleeps for a grand total of twenty minutes. Gross.) Sure, I admit it could be possible that we are encouraging a bad habit here, but SHE WILL NOT GO TO SLEEP ANY OTHER WAY, so it's not like we presently have much of a choice if we want any semblance of rest and sanity in our house.
We had made some progress getting Amelia to fall asleep without the breast... but she got sick a few weeks ago, and all that progress went out the window. She was miserable. And then she got so plugged up in her nasal passages that it was impossible to breathe while nursing... which lead to her first ever nursing strike! Doom!
And remember now that she doesn't go to sleep without nursing. But now she couldn't/ wouldn't nurse, and so... the miserable, sick, starving baby would not sleep and was SUPER DUPER GRUMPY.
I suppose if I had been better rested (i.e. not dealing with a miserable, sick, starving baby who would not sleep and was super duper grumpy), I would have been wise and thought, "Oh, I should take special care not to get engorged. It would be bad if I got a plugged duct. Or mastitis."
Buuuut. I was NOT well rested, and I was actually also sick with the same illness that had Amelia under the weather, so I did not think this thought. Thus, disaster struck.
I went to bed feeling like the symptoms of my respiratory viral illness were finally fading (hallelujah!), and I remember thinking these words: Gosh, tomorrow I'm going to feel fabulous, I can tell.
...
Well, no. I did not feel fabulous. Definitely not. I woke up about two hours after drifting off to sleep imagining how fabulous I'd feel upon waking... FREEZING. I was convinced that it must have been like fifty degrees in that room. And cuddling with mini-space-heater (a.k.a. Amelia) was not warming me up sufficiently. I was so cold, in fact, that my teeth were chattering uncontrollably... and also, my whole body was seizing and shivering... and I was just flat-out miserably cold. Doom.
So, I cuddle up with James. Also, I chatter my teeth loudly in his ear.
This grumpifies him. Also, he icily informs me that it is NOT cold in the room and I should take my temperature. It was difficult to do so, as I was shivering and chattering so badly, but I did manage to find that my temperature was nearly 103°F.
Anyway, I somehow made it through the night. Mostly with the help of my martyr of a husband who sacrificed being not-too-hot and let me cuddle him until my hypothalamus finally determined I was hot enough to kill demons and I stopped shivering uncontrollably.
It was mastitis. I was pretty sure it was, because when I woke up with that fever, I also had a plugged duct that magically appeared out of nowhere. So, besides all the usual advice you get to treat mastitis (which I followed), I also had to see the midwife to get antibiotics... Apparently one of the indications that antibiotics might be appropriate is if the symptoms come on severely and suddenly, and that certainly seemed to be the case for me.
Anyway, Amelia STILL refused to nurse, so I had to fish out my breast pump. And we had to syringe the pumped milk into her face in order to quell her starving and exhausted screams. I kept trying to offer her the breast, but all she would do is bite me. Hard. (Ouch!) And then scream even more when I wouldn't put her back on the breast for a replay of said piranha action. So yeah. We didn't nurse for a couple days until her nose deplugged.
It sucked. (Oh ha, pun! I didn't even do that on purpose.)
And I was exhausted and under the weather for another few weeks, and Amelia hasn't gotten into a happy sleep routine since then, and seriously... the child is probably sleep-deprived, but I CAN'T get the kid to sleep for very long. The world is too darned interesting.
We've also found it difficult to get her to sleep at night. Instead of falling asleep once the lights are out, instead she will crawl all over and inspect stuff and giggle and scream loudly, and pound on the wall that separates our bedroom from the jumpy neighbor's bedroom. (Doom.)
Despite the lack of sleep... Amelia seems as happy as ever. She's grinning from ear to ear most of the time. She giggles a lot. She laughs heartily: "HAR HAR HAR! HOO HOO HAA!" She giggles some more. And she says, "Giggle-giggle-gogle-giggle-gogle-gogle-gogle!" Just like that. She squeals in delight when people (familiar or stranger) talk to her and smile at her. Happy baby.
Ay caramba... so tired.
Love and giggle-giggle-gogle-giggle-gogle-gogle-gogle,
Jenna and Amelia
But today... Today I need it. I am more harried than usual. I suppose then, that the following will all sound rather pessimistic and melodramatic. Please keep in mind that this is a skewed version of reality and that Amelia is mostly sunshine and giggles.
Amelia, I believe, is kind of in between the baby and toddler stages. I think they call it the "older baby" stage. Yes, she's mobile. Horizontally, vertically, diagonally, diurnally, nocturnally, you name it and chances are... she is indeed mobile in the manner of that adverb. The stairs are kind of a scary place for me. If I set her down, she makes a beeline for them. I sometimes feel as if she's trying to become stairmaster within the week or something. Stair fetishes are scary things.
I'm grateful that she isn't walking yet... I have a nasty feeling that she'll get speedier once she can actually run anywhere she wants to. Oh, and not to mention that she'll be able to get into more things. Doom.
The little lady is insatiably curious. She loves water, which is also a tad scary. Another thing she makes a beeline for... the toilet. I am glad we have a toilet lock, as annoying as it is. I am dreading the day she figures it out, for then I'd have to worry about her possibly playing in it, drowning in it, splashing its unsanitary water all over the bathroom, flushing valuables down it, etc.
Ay caramba.
Oh, and yes, we are still doing that elimination communication thing. With mobility, though, came a newfound desire to NOT sit on the potty for longer than is absolutely necessary, because that is BOR-ING! So... yeah. She's in a "I'm way too busy to sit on a potty. I'd rather pee while exploring the house!" phase. It's mildly frustrating when I know the little vixen needs to release a turd, but she won't sit on the pot. And then it gets even more scream-inducing when she does poo in her diaper... and by the time we notice that she's soiled herself and change the offending diaper, her bum is already bleeding from poo exposure. And, gosh, is it difficult to get all the fecal matter out of all the nooks and crannies of a wriggly, writhing female baby... bleeding bum or no bleeding bum. Diapering a mobile baby is quite the adventure.
Amelia eats everything. She can handle pretty much anything we're willing to give her. Recent favorites include air-popped popcorn, strawberries, pineapple, bread, pizza, chicken nuggets, and... well, ANYTHING that we happen to be eating. Sometimes I just don't see the point of giving her "her own" portion, because she won't eat what we give her. She much prefers to steal our portions.
The baby lady is absolutely convinced that if she sleeps, she will miss out on all the wonders of the world. So, of course, she resists falling asleep no matter how tired she is. It is a rare occasion when she falls asleep without lots of help. And help usually means that I nurse her for five to sixty minutes. (Ugh. The sixty minutes gets a little laborious. And then it gets frustrating when it takes sixty minutes to get her to sleep... and then she only sleeps for a grand total of twenty minutes. Gross.) Sure, I admit it could be possible that we are encouraging a bad habit here, but SHE WILL NOT GO TO SLEEP ANY OTHER WAY, so it's not like we presently have much of a choice if we want any semblance of rest and sanity in our house.
We had made some progress getting Amelia to fall asleep without the breast... but she got sick a few weeks ago, and all that progress went out the window. She was miserable. And then she got so plugged up in her nasal passages that it was impossible to breathe while nursing... which lead to her first ever nursing strike! Doom!
And remember now that she doesn't go to sleep without nursing. But now she couldn't/ wouldn't nurse, and so... the miserable, sick, starving baby would not sleep and was SUPER DUPER GRUMPY.
I suppose if I had been better rested (i.e. not dealing with a miserable, sick, starving baby who would not sleep and was super duper grumpy), I would have been wise and thought, "Oh, I should take special care not to get engorged. It would be bad if I got a plugged duct. Or mastitis."
Buuuut. I was NOT well rested, and I was actually also sick with the same illness that had Amelia under the weather, so I did not think this thought. Thus, disaster struck.
I went to bed feeling like the symptoms of my respiratory viral illness were finally fading (hallelujah!), and I remember thinking these words: Gosh, tomorrow I'm going to feel fabulous, I can tell.
...
Well, no. I did not feel fabulous. Definitely not. I woke up about two hours after drifting off to sleep imagining how fabulous I'd feel upon waking... FREEZING. I was convinced that it must have been like fifty degrees in that room. And cuddling with mini-space-heater (a.k.a. Amelia) was not warming me up sufficiently. I was so cold, in fact, that my teeth were chattering uncontrollably... and also, my whole body was seizing and shivering... and I was just flat-out miserably cold. Doom.
So, I cuddle up with James. Also, I chatter my teeth loudly in his ear.
This grumpifies him. Also, he icily informs me that it is NOT cold in the room and I should take my temperature. It was difficult to do so, as I was shivering and chattering so badly, but I did manage to find that my temperature was nearly 103°F.
Anyway, I somehow made it through the night. Mostly with the help of my martyr of a husband who sacrificed being not-too-hot and let me cuddle him until my hypothalamus finally determined I was hot enough to kill demons and I stopped shivering uncontrollably.
It was mastitis. I was pretty sure it was, because when I woke up with that fever, I also had a plugged duct that magically appeared out of nowhere. So, besides all the usual advice you get to treat mastitis (which I followed), I also had to see the midwife to get antibiotics... Apparently one of the indications that antibiotics might be appropriate is if the symptoms come on severely and suddenly, and that certainly seemed to be the case for me.
Anyway, Amelia STILL refused to nurse, so I had to fish out my breast pump. And we had to syringe the pumped milk into her face in order to quell her starving and exhausted screams. I kept trying to offer her the breast, but all she would do is bite me. Hard. (Ouch!) And then scream even more when I wouldn't put her back on the breast for a replay of said piranha action. So yeah. We didn't nurse for a couple days until her nose deplugged.
It sucked. (Oh ha, pun! I didn't even do that on purpose.)
And I was exhausted and under the weather for another few weeks, and Amelia hasn't gotten into a happy sleep routine since then, and seriously... the child is probably sleep-deprived, but I CAN'T get the kid to sleep for very long. The world is too darned interesting.
We've also found it difficult to get her to sleep at night. Instead of falling asleep once the lights are out, instead she will crawl all over and inspect stuff and giggle and scream loudly, and pound on the wall that separates our bedroom from the jumpy neighbor's bedroom. (Doom.)
Despite the lack of sleep... Amelia seems as happy as ever. She's grinning from ear to ear most of the time. She giggles a lot. She laughs heartily: "HAR HAR HAR! HOO HOO HAA!" She giggles some more. And she says, "Giggle-giggle-gogle-giggle-gogle-gogle-gogle!" Just like that. She squeals in delight when people (familiar or stranger) talk to her and smile at her. Happy baby.
Ay caramba... so tired.
Love and giggle-giggle-gogle-giggle-gogle-gogle-gogle,
Jenna and Amelia
Saturday, June 15, 2013
Mobile, Vocal, and Fanged (Er... I Mean Tooth'ed)
Amelia is a different baby woman... compared to my last report anyway. On Thursday she will be ten months old!
Earlier this week, she progressed from that nebulous state where she can move, but not purposefully in the right direction, to where she can move in whichever direction she decides to go. Let the (more) chaos begin!
Well, of course, her first target was me. Once she succeeding in achieving this goal, she realized that she could go wherever she pleased... and thus, she immediately turned around and headed for our tall, rickety, overburdened bookshelf, babbling a triumphant "booh, booh, booh!" as she went. And proceeded to pull expensive (and fairly new) Brandon Sanderson novels off the bottom bookshelves. Before she destroyed all the dust covers and ate all the About the Author pages, I distracted her with board books (and grandma) and immediately set to packing all our books safely into boxes.
I suppose that if you were unfamiliar with the extreme ricketiness of our bookshelves and our plans to move in two months or so, this course of action might seem a little extreme.
Well, here was my course of logic.
The bookshelf in question was basically five planks with thick plastic sticks in between. Once the plastic sticks kind of screwed into the planks, but most of them were broken. Now though, if you were unbelievably unwise, you could pull out one of these plastic sticks and most of the bookshelf would collapse like a Jenga tower, only with books. Put a baby at the bottom, and we've got a major problem.
Well, of course, if I wanted to save the books, I'd have to relocate the ones on the bottom shelf or two. You can imagine though, how this would throw off the balance of the rickety bookshelf so that if you were to sneak up behind it and tap it on the shoulder, it would let out a pathetic "eep!" and then collapse. Again, pancake baby.
In general, I don't approve of pancake babies.
So, there was only one thing left to do... pack away all our books (except for the ones we planned to read during the next six months) and destroy the bookshelf. The poor creature was at the end of its life and would not survive another disassembly and reassembly.
Now, we have two bookshelves. Unfortunately, the second bookshelf--though sturdier than the rickety one aforementioned--is by no means a baby-safe furniture item. The designer did not have securing it to the wall in mind when he or she designed it. It is built in such a way that if we were to attempt securing it to the wall, and Amelia were to attempt scaling it, the backboard of the bookshelf would likely remain attached to the wall... and then the rest of the shelf and all its books would fall down on top of her. Boom, pancake baby.
So basically, I packed nearly the entirety of our book collection into boxes. I was surprised and disappointed to find it only filled six large boxes. The ones we left out would probably fill a small box. Clearly, we need more books. Donations are welcome. (Particularly if these donations come pre-packed away in boxes.)
As for the fate of the bookshelves... We will be giving away the less rickety bookshelf (anyone interested?), and the majority of the very rickety bookshelf went straight to the dumpster. It has lived a long and useful life. I think it belonged to Katie in one of its previous lives. But a piece of it lives on!
The rickety bookshelf has been repurposed into a baby bookshelf. It is now two planks with the four sturdiest plastic rods in between... and these all still have threading on them and can screw into the endpieces! Woohoo! It turns out that the rickety bookshelf's most recent incarnation is actually rather sturdy. Amelia has her very own shelf! She hasn't discovered it yet. Partly because we haven't put anything on it yet. I'll get around to it later in the week.
Besides using her newly-found mobility powers to attack the heebie-jeebies out of all our books, Amelia uses them to chase James. And sometimes me. But if James is home, mostly James.
Amelia is saying pseudo-words... semi-words? Half-words? Whatever. Not quite words. I am "muh", James is "duh", Becca is "buh", and books are "booh". I don't know when these sounds will morph into actual words, but I fear "book" may get the privilege of being her first word. Humph. I thought "mama" was supposed to the requisite first word. Oh well.
In any case, if her first word is "book", it would reflect the reality that Amelia is extremely fond of books. If presented with a large basket full of toys and a single book, she will dig out the book more often than not. I personally believe she is so good at fine motor skills because she decided she needed them in order to properly play with books--hold them, pick them up, open them, turn pages, etc. Amelia may have nearly forty books, possibly more. I haven't counted them, but she has lots. All of them are getting quite used... Her current favorites seem to be "Pat the Bunny", "Peek-a-Boo Bambi", "Goodnight Moon", and "Baby Day".
There are some indications that Amelia is beginning to understand English (and Serbian!) to some extent. She definitely knows what mom, dad, Becca, Grandma, potty, bonk, milk, and book mean. And she knows zvezde (stars) for sure, and possibly patka (duck). Oh, and possibly miš (mouse) and pas (dog) as well. Yikes, she is growing up!
Amelia finally sprouted a couple teeth (both lower central incisors) right around 9.5 months old. They are starting to be visible instead of just invisible sharp things in her gums. They haven't made much difference, except that I have to be careful if she smiles while still at the breast or I will get pinched. Ouch!
James and I decided yesterday to begin teaching Amelia in earnest how to fall asleep on her own. She has come to believe that she is incapable of falling asleep without a boob in her face. So I began the whole stealing-the-boob-just-before-she-falls-asleep, give-it-back-if-she-asks-for-it, steal-it-again-just-before-sleep-etc.-until-she-finally-surrenders-to-sleep-boobless routine. It took over TWO HUNDRED boob-steals and two hours before she finally gave up and fell asleep without the boob. (She began screaming bloody murder after every steal... then she'd anticipate a thievery and begin screaming bloody murder BEFORE I even stole it... and then she decided to give up on a nap despite being tired as heck... and played for a few minutes... and then decided she really did need to sleep... then about fifteen more boob-steals and she finally slept. Woo! What a process.) The next time only took about a hundred times. Once she let go and fell asleep before I even stole it. The last time today probably only took thirty tries. What improvement! I am pleased. After phase one is complete, I will crack down on sleeping alone during the daytime. Le gasp!
Love and thievery,
Jenna and Amelia
Earlier this week, she progressed from that nebulous state where she can move, but not purposefully in the right direction, to where she can move in whichever direction she decides to go. Let the (more) chaos begin!
Well, of course, her first target was me. Once she succeeding in achieving this goal, she realized that she could go wherever she pleased... and thus, she immediately turned around and headed for our tall, rickety, overburdened bookshelf, babbling a triumphant "booh, booh, booh!" as she went. And proceeded to pull expensive (and fairly new) Brandon Sanderson novels off the bottom bookshelves. Before she destroyed all the dust covers and ate all the About the Author pages, I distracted her with board books (and grandma) and immediately set to packing all our books safely into boxes.
I suppose that if you were unfamiliar with the extreme ricketiness of our bookshelves and our plans to move in two months or so, this course of action might seem a little extreme.
Well, here was my course of logic.
The bookshelf in question was basically five planks with thick plastic sticks in between. Once the plastic sticks kind of screwed into the planks, but most of them were broken. Now though, if you were unbelievably unwise, you could pull out one of these plastic sticks and most of the bookshelf would collapse like a Jenga tower, only with books. Put a baby at the bottom, and we've got a major problem.
Well, of course, if I wanted to save the books, I'd have to relocate the ones on the bottom shelf or two. You can imagine though, how this would throw off the balance of the rickety bookshelf so that if you were to sneak up behind it and tap it on the shoulder, it would let out a pathetic "eep!" and then collapse. Again, pancake baby.
In general, I don't approve of pancake babies.
So, there was only one thing left to do... pack away all our books (except for the ones we planned to read during the next six months) and destroy the bookshelf. The poor creature was at the end of its life and would not survive another disassembly and reassembly.
Now, we have two bookshelves. Unfortunately, the second bookshelf--though sturdier than the rickety one aforementioned--is by no means a baby-safe furniture item. The designer did not have securing it to the wall in mind when he or she designed it. It is built in such a way that if we were to attempt securing it to the wall, and Amelia were to attempt scaling it, the backboard of the bookshelf would likely remain attached to the wall... and then the rest of the shelf and all its books would fall down on top of her. Boom, pancake baby.
So basically, I packed nearly the entirety of our book collection into boxes. I was surprised and disappointed to find it only filled six large boxes. The ones we left out would probably fill a small box. Clearly, we need more books. Donations are welcome. (Particularly if these donations come pre-packed away in boxes.)
As for the fate of the bookshelves... We will be giving away the less rickety bookshelf (anyone interested?), and the majority of the very rickety bookshelf went straight to the dumpster. It has lived a long and useful life. I think it belonged to Katie in one of its previous lives. But a piece of it lives on!
The rickety bookshelf has been repurposed into a baby bookshelf. It is now two planks with the four sturdiest plastic rods in between... and these all still have threading on them and can screw into the endpieces! Woohoo! It turns out that the rickety bookshelf's most recent incarnation is actually rather sturdy. Amelia has her very own shelf! She hasn't discovered it yet. Partly because we haven't put anything on it yet. I'll get around to it later in the week.
Besides using her newly-found mobility powers to attack the heebie-jeebies out of all our books, Amelia uses them to chase James. And sometimes me. But if James is home, mostly James.
Amelia is saying pseudo-words... semi-words? Half-words? Whatever. Not quite words. I am "muh", James is "duh", Becca is "buh", and books are "booh". I don't know when these sounds will morph into actual words, but I fear "book" may get the privilege of being her first word. Humph. I thought "mama" was supposed to the requisite first word. Oh well.
In any case, if her first word is "book", it would reflect the reality that Amelia is extremely fond of books. If presented with a large basket full of toys and a single book, she will dig out the book more often than not. I personally believe she is so good at fine motor skills because she decided she needed them in order to properly play with books--hold them, pick them up, open them, turn pages, etc. Amelia may have nearly forty books, possibly more. I haven't counted them, but she has lots. All of them are getting quite used... Her current favorites seem to be "Pat the Bunny", "Peek-a-Boo Bambi", "Goodnight Moon", and "Baby Day".
There are some indications that Amelia is beginning to understand English (and Serbian!) to some extent. She definitely knows what mom, dad, Becca, Grandma, potty, bonk, milk, and book mean. And she knows zvezde (stars) for sure, and possibly patka (duck). Oh, and possibly miš (mouse) and pas (dog) as well. Yikes, she is growing up!
Amelia finally sprouted a couple teeth (both lower central incisors) right around 9.5 months old. They are starting to be visible instead of just invisible sharp things in her gums. They haven't made much difference, except that I have to be careful if she smiles while still at the breast or I will get pinched. Ouch!
James and I decided yesterday to begin teaching Amelia in earnest how to fall asleep on her own. She has come to believe that she is incapable of falling asleep without a boob in her face. So I began the whole stealing-the-boob-just-before-she-falls-asleep, give-it-back-if-she-asks-for-it, steal-it-again-just-before-sleep-etc.-until-she-finally-surrenders-to-sleep-boobless routine. It took over TWO HUNDRED boob-steals and two hours before she finally gave up and fell asleep without the boob. (She began screaming bloody murder after every steal... then she'd anticipate a thievery and begin screaming bloody murder BEFORE I even stole it... and then she decided to give up on a nap despite being tired as heck... and played for a few minutes... and then decided she really did need to sleep... then about fifteen more boob-steals and she finally slept. Woo! What a process.) The next time only took about a hundred times. Once she let go and fell asleep before I even stole it. The last time today probably only took thirty tries. What improvement! I am pleased. After phase one is complete, I will crack down on sleeping alone during the daytime. Le gasp!
Love and thievery,
Jenna and Amelia
Saturday, May 11, 2013
In Nine Days, I Will Have a Nine-Month-Old on My Hands
Wish me luck.
In fourteen days, I will have an accurate height and head circumference to give you, but in the meantime, I have only a weight to give you an idea of how giant my baby is. As of this Tuesday, Amelia weighed a jaw-dropping 23 lbs 10.6 oz. My dad tried to measure her length with a tape measure and he got approximately 29 inches, but this might not be entirely accurate. She is wearing 12-month pants, but 18- to 24-month everything else. And 2T dresses fit surprisingly well.
All this means that whenever I'm stupid enough to take Amelia on a walk without a stroller or baby carrier, I get insanely jealous of my friends who have babies just as small as Amelia is big. On the other hand, my biceps are insanely grateful that Amelia has given them a reason to live. They used to be shriveled up pieces of limp bacon in my arms, but now someone might even venture to risk calling these babies muscles. Huzzah!
Just before Amelia and I left for our Utah-Arizona adventure, our home visitor from Healthy Start1 gave her an eight-month developmental assessment. She had extraordinary fine motor skills... but on the other hand, there were some things to worry about. Namely, Amelia had roughly zero interest in food (or even putting anything in her mouth as it seems most babies her age do incessantly) and roughly zero interest in mobility. They gave me tips on how to encourage her to move2 and to mouth things, but I feel like these were fruitless attempts at getting a horse to drink the water I just led it to.
WELL. Fast forward to now. Apparently there was absolutely no need to worry, because now does exhibit interest in these things. It happened suddenly, too... like somebody flipped a switch in her brain.
Amelia is a voracious food-lover, despite having a zero tooth-count3. If I'm eating it, she's gotta have it too. Her first actually swallowed food item was a few soggy green beans from a beef soup at Sizzler while we were in Provo. I wasn't sure whether to believe the disappearance of these green beans meant Amelia had actually consumed them--until, that is, I rediscovered them in her diaper, smelling like decaying flesh.
Zoinks, solid-fed baby poop is exponentially worse than exclusively-breastfed baby poop. I am thus now more enthusiastic than ever about elimination communication. As satisfying as it is to flush breastmilk poop down the toilet without having to wipe more than a dab of it off baby's bum, it is that much more satisfying to NOT have to wipe caked solids poop out of Amelia's many rolls and crevices. Plus, when baby poops directly into the toilet, the blessed water covers the fetid waste so you don't have to smell it so much. Viva toilet seat reducers!
Forgive the TMI tangent there.
Anyway, Amelia has enjoyed everything we've given her tastes of. We've decided that, given her personality, Amelia will do well with baby-led weaning4, so we'll be skipping the pureés entirely. I didn't know there was yet ANOTHER5 nonconformist parenting method we could practice, but there you go. I found yet another. I really need to start hugging trees or something.
Amelia's diet is still mostly breastmilk and I'm hoping to keep it that way at least until she's one year old. And then I will continue to breastfeed on demand until she finally weans herself entirely. There are so many benefits for doing so that I just couldn't imagine weaning early (prior to two years old).
That said, the one disadvantage of breastfeeding (besides Amelia's constant sour cream breath) is that the high prolactin levels my body is producing while breastfeeding are preventing me ovulating still. So no more babies yet. Problem is, I am so pumped and ready for baby number two, it's not even funny.6
I suppose some (or even most) might see lactational amenorrhea as a huge boon, but after heavy consideration I have decided to listen to my instinct: I think my body won't do as well with pregnancy as I get older due to my scoliosis and Harrington rods. A few of my health providers suspect this as well. So in that regard, it will be wiser to have all7 my babies ASAP. James is okay with this plan, so hopefully the next kid'll come soon.
Gosh, I'm just going on all sorts of tangents today. Back to Amelia consuming stuff.
While Amelia and I were in Arizona, she fussed a bit more than usual. At first I was confused, but thankfully it didn't take me long to figure out what she was trying to communicate: I'M RIDICULOUSLY THIRSTY, MOM! PARCHED! I'M SHRIVELLING UP INTO A BABY RAISIN OVER HERE! SAVE ME!
So, she picked up water-drinking skills fairly quickly. She's now fairly proficient at using water bottles and regular cups. She doesn't really get straws, and we haven't even tried a sippy cup yet. But cups and water bottles? Oh man. "Drink the Water" is the best game ever. She'll actually pull the cup or bottle back if you try to take it away, even if her thrist seems to be momentarily quenched. If she's already gorged on water, she'll take more sips anyway, and spit it out all over herself.8
Amelia is... quasi-mobile. By that I mean that she can't purposely move from Point A to Point B. But she definitely moves. She can thus far only scoot backwards while on her hands and knees, so she usually gets further away from her intended destination. This seems to frustrate her to no end.
However, there are signs that she will be fully mobile soon. The desire is clearly there. I've seen her rocking back and forth on her hands and knees several times. Once, after a several-minute concentrated effort of intensely deliberate coordination, I saw her bring one of her knees forward--and then she collapsed. So close, and yet so far.
Amelia also has been experimenting with what I call the Spiderman pose. Both hands on the ground, one leg bent up with foot on the ground, and the other leg fully extended out to the side. Spiderman pose. Part of me hopes she somehow adapts this into a Spiderman crawl, because we'd get so many nerd points that I'd cry many tears of intense parental nerd joy.
On the other hand, there is a slight possibility she may start walking and skip the crawling altogether. She'll take a few steps if she holds onto my hands, though she isn't cruising along the edges of furniture yet. The girl IS pulling herself up to stand... and sometimes, just pushing up off her feet from the sitting-on-the-potty position directly to the standing position, with nothing to hold onto. Thankfully, she can't maintain that for more than a few seconds yet. We may yet have time.
Amelia is quite talkative and makes all sorts of speech-like sounds. She does say, "MAMAMAMAMAMAMAAAA!" when distressed, but I don't feel she equates "mama" with me yet. Oh well. My mother is convinced Amelia is starting to imitate our speech because she'd say "gooh" over and over again after reading Goodnight Moon; I, however, remain unconvinced. Though... I will admit that by the end of my visit to Arizona, I did find myself wondering if I was just imagining her saying "geeyuk" everytime she saw a cat and "guhg-guhg" everytime the dog came to visit her. And this morning, I said, "Good morning, Amelia!" and smiled smiled real big and responded, "Gooh!"
So far we have been spared stranger anxiety. For this I am immensely grateful, as travelling alone with a stranger-anxious baby could have been overwhelming. Instead, she is totally confident in herself and flashes grins at all the old ladies everywhere we go. And also any novel-looking people who have such unique qualities like beards, tattoos, sunglasses, or lots of jewelry. Thus, going out and about is always a treat.9
I guess besides Amelia getting wiser and stronger everyday, the only other news is that our family has decided to start eating nutritarian again. Permanently. Yay! I might do another post a bit later explaining what this means and why we're doing it, as well as how we plan to teach Amelia to eat well too. However, I'm beginning to tire of typing, so I'll save that subject matter for yet another day.
Love and nutrients,
Jenna and Amelia
1 Someone comes over every week to see how Amelia and I are doing. They also inform me about stuff going on in the community that might be helpful. To be honest, I decided to do the Healthy Start program because they give out free kids' books. What can I say? I'm a sucker for free books.↩
2 One of the most common pieces of advice I've been given to help Amelia develop gross motor skills is to put a much-desired toy just out of her reach. This has been largely ineffectual. I've discovered though that she is most enthusiastic to get to ME if I am just out of reach.↩
3 I don't know when her teeth will suddenly appear. It's supposed to be largely genetically determined. My mom tells me my teeth started coming in around six months, Becca's a bit after that, and Jessi's were latest around nine months. I don't know when Dilts babies usually get teeth.↩
4 Not to be confused with child-led weaning. Which we are also doing.↩
5 Besides cloth diapering, that is. Thus far, we haven't been doing it solely because it would cost us $3 per load in our apartment complex's communal laundry facilities. Otherwise we'd have done it from the start. We're excited, though, to start cloth diapers in December once we live in a place with washer and dryer hookups. Woot! We are moving up in life! Washer and dryer!↩
6 How this feeling came about, and more specifically, how it lived through Amelia's six months of colic, I couldn't begin to tell you.↩
7 My current fantasy is ten babies. Yes, you read that right. And yes, while I was pregnant, I was the one saying I don't know if I could do it more than one more time. It'll be interesting to see how I feel during my second pregnancy.↩
8 This apparently deliberate spitting makes me wonder how futile a sippy cup would be.↩
9 For Amelia anyway. Sometimes I miss being able to go out in public without people being friendly and talkative at me. Amelia seems to be a people-magnet.↩
In fourteen days, I will have an accurate height and head circumference to give you, but in the meantime, I have only a weight to give you an idea of how giant my baby is. As of this Tuesday, Amelia weighed a jaw-dropping 23 lbs 10.6 oz. My dad tried to measure her length with a tape measure and he got approximately 29 inches, but this might not be entirely accurate. She is wearing 12-month pants, but 18- to 24-month everything else. And 2T dresses fit surprisingly well.
All this means that whenever I'm stupid enough to take Amelia on a walk without a stroller or baby carrier, I get insanely jealous of my friends who have babies just as small as Amelia is big. On the other hand, my biceps are insanely grateful that Amelia has given them a reason to live. They used to be shriveled up pieces of limp bacon in my arms, but now someone might even venture to risk calling these babies muscles. Huzzah!
Just before Amelia and I left for our Utah-Arizona adventure, our home visitor from Healthy Start1 gave her an eight-month developmental assessment. She had extraordinary fine motor skills... but on the other hand, there were some things to worry about. Namely, Amelia had roughly zero interest in food (or even putting anything in her mouth as it seems most babies her age do incessantly) and roughly zero interest in mobility. They gave me tips on how to encourage her to move2 and to mouth things, but I feel like these were fruitless attempts at getting a horse to drink the water I just led it to.
WELL. Fast forward to now. Apparently there was absolutely no need to worry, because now does exhibit interest in these things. It happened suddenly, too... like somebody flipped a switch in her brain.
Amelia is a voracious food-lover, despite having a zero tooth-count3. If I'm eating it, she's gotta have it too. Her first actually swallowed food item was a few soggy green beans from a beef soup at Sizzler while we were in Provo. I wasn't sure whether to believe the disappearance of these green beans meant Amelia had actually consumed them--until, that is, I rediscovered them in her diaper, smelling like decaying flesh.
Zoinks, solid-fed baby poop is exponentially worse than exclusively-breastfed baby poop. I am thus now more enthusiastic than ever about elimination communication. As satisfying as it is to flush breastmilk poop down the toilet without having to wipe more than a dab of it off baby's bum, it is that much more satisfying to NOT have to wipe caked solids poop out of Amelia's many rolls and crevices. Plus, when baby poops directly into the toilet, the blessed water covers the fetid waste so you don't have to smell it so much. Viva toilet seat reducers!
Forgive the TMI tangent there.
Anyway, Amelia has enjoyed everything we've given her tastes of. We've decided that, given her personality, Amelia will do well with baby-led weaning4, so we'll be skipping the pureés entirely. I didn't know there was yet ANOTHER5 nonconformist parenting method we could practice, but there you go. I found yet another. I really need to start hugging trees or something.
Amelia's diet is still mostly breastmilk and I'm hoping to keep it that way at least until she's one year old. And then I will continue to breastfeed on demand until she finally weans herself entirely. There are so many benefits for doing so that I just couldn't imagine weaning early (prior to two years old).
That said, the one disadvantage of breastfeeding (besides Amelia's constant sour cream breath) is that the high prolactin levels my body is producing while breastfeeding are preventing me ovulating still. So no more babies yet. Problem is, I am so pumped and ready for baby number two, it's not even funny.6
I suppose some (or even most) might see lactational amenorrhea as a huge boon, but after heavy consideration I have decided to listen to my instinct: I think my body won't do as well with pregnancy as I get older due to my scoliosis and Harrington rods. A few of my health providers suspect this as well. So in that regard, it will be wiser to have all7 my babies ASAP. James is okay with this plan, so hopefully the next kid'll come soon.
Gosh, I'm just going on all sorts of tangents today. Back to Amelia consuming stuff.
While Amelia and I were in Arizona, she fussed a bit more than usual. At first I was confused, but thankfully it didn't take me long to figure out what she was trying to communicate: I'M RIDICULOUSLY THIRSTY, MOM! PARCHED! I'M SHRIVELLING UP INTO A BABY RAISIN OVER HERE! SAVE ME!
So, she picked up water-drinking skills fairly quickly. She's now fairly proficient at using water bottles and regular cups. She doesn't really get straws, and we haven't even tried a sippy cup yet. But cups and water bottles? Oh man. "Drink the Water" is the best game ever. She'll actually pull the cup or bottle back if you try to take it away, even if her thrist seems to be momentarily quenched. If she's already gorged on water, she'll take more sips anyway, and spit it out all over herself.8
Amelia is... quasi-mobile. By that I mean that she can't purposely move from Point A to Point B. But she definitely moves. She can thus far only scoot backwards while on her hands and knees, so she usually gets further away from her intended destination. This seems to frustrate her to no end.
However, there are signs that she will be fully mobile soon. The desire is clearly there. I've seen her rocking back and forth on her hands and knees several times. Once, after a several-minute concentrated effort of intensely deliberate coordination, I saw her bring one of her knees forward--and then she collapsed. So close, and yet so far.
Amelia also has been experimenting with what I call the Spiderman pose. Both hands on the ground, one leg bent up with foot on the ground, and the other leg fully extended out to the side. Spiderman pose. Part of me hopes she somehow adapts this into a Spiderman crawl, because we'd get so many nerd points that I'd cry many tears of intense parental nerd joy.
On the other hand, there is a slight possibility she may start walking and skip the crawling altogether. She'll take a few steps if she holds onto my hands, though she isn't cruising along the edges of furniture yet. The girl IS pulling herself up to stand... and sometimes, just pushing up off her feet from the sitting-on-the-potty position directly to the standing position, with nothing to hold onto. Thankfully, she can't maintain that for more than a few seconds yet. We may yet have time.
Amelia is quite talkative and makes all sorts of speech-like sounds. She does say, "MAMAMAMAMAMAMAAAA!" when distressed, but I don't feel she equates "mama" with me yet. Oh well. My mother is convinced Amelia is starting to imitate our speech because she'd say "gooh" over and over again after reading Goodnight Moon; I, however, remain unconvinced. Though... I will admit that by the end of my visit to Arizona, I did find myself wondering if I was just imagining her saying "geeyuk" everytime she saw a cat and "guhg-guhg" everytime the dog came to visit her. And this morning, I said, "Good morning, Amelia!" and smiled smiled real big and responded, "Gooh!"
So far we have been spared stranger anxiety. For this I am immensely grateful, as travelling alone with a stranger-anxious baby could have been overwhelming. Instead, she is totally confident in herself and flashes grins at all the old ladies everywhere we go. And also any novel-looking people who have such unique qualities like beards, tattoos, sunglasses, or lots of jewelry. Thus, going out and about is always a treat.9
I guess besides Amelia getting wiser and stronger everyday, the only other news is that our family has decided to start eating nutritarian again. Permanently. Yay! I might do another post a bit later explaining what this means and why we're doing it, as well as how we plan to teach Amelia to eat well too. However, I'm beginning to tire of typing, so I'll save that subject matter for yet another day.
Love and nutrients,
Jenna and Amelia
1 Someone comes over every week to see how Amelia and I are doing. They also inform me about stuff going on in the community that might be helpful. To be honest, I decided to do the Healthy Start program because they give out free kids' books. What can I say? I'm a sucker for free books.↩
2 One of the most common pieces of advice I've been given to help Amelia develop gross motor skills is to put a much-desired toy just out of her reach. This has been largely ineffectual. I've discovered though that she is most enthusiastic to get to ME if I am just out of reach.↩
3 I don't know when her teeth will suddenly appear. It's supposed to be largely genetically determined. My mom tells me my teeth started coming in around six months, Becca's a bit after that, and Jessi's were latest around nine months. I don't know when Dilts babies usually get teeth.↩
4 Not to be confused with child-led weaning. Which we are also doing.↩
5 Besides cloth diapering, that is. Thus far, we haven't been doing it solely because it would cost us $3 per load in our apartment complex's communal laundry facilities. Otherwise we'd have done it from the start. We're excited, though, to start cloth diapers in December once we live in a place with washer and dryer hookups. Woot! We are moving up in life! Washer and dryer!↩
6 How this feeling came about, and more specifically, how it lived through Amelia's six months of colic, I couldn't begin to tell you.↩
7 My current fantasy is ten babies. Yes, you read that right. And yes, while I was pregnant, I was the one saying I don't know if I could do it more than one more time. It'll be interesting to see how I feel during my second pregnancy.↩
8 This apparently deliberate spitting makes me wonder how futile a sippy cup would be.↩
9 For Amelia anyway. Sometimes I miss being able to go out in public without people being friendly and talkative at me. Amelia seems to be a people-magnet.↩
Saturday, April 6, 2013
Still Alive
I've been posting less frequently. I'm not sure why that is, but I think it is paradoxically because things are getting easier. You see, blogging is sometimes a release. And right now I don't really feel a whole bunch that I'd like to release. Okay, that's not true... anything I'd like to release to the general Internet populace. (And you thought I shared everything. Try not to feel too betrayed.) So yeah. We are all, indeed, still alive.
Good news! I am becoming more and more convinced that taking Amelia to the chiropractor has changed her disposition so that she's a super happy baby. It's absolutely wonderful. She smiles so much more. Now, when she smiles at strangers and they say she's a good baby1, I actually agree that yes, Amelia is quite the joy to have around.
She's so good-mannered that I think James has even succumbed to her baby powers. At least once a day I hear him say something along the lines of "She's SO cuuute!" in a high-pitched voice. Before he decided not to check Facebook so often, I had to be careful not to post too many cute baby pictures on Facebook, or else James would no longer be able to concentrate. Once he got Amelia cravings, so we had to visit him at lunchtime.
She's starting to get better at playing alone. And by alone, I mean someone is sitting next to her and she is ignoring them while playing. If you try to go into the next room to, say, cook up a masterpiece of a meal that will make your husband worship your shadow for 3.1415 years, SQUAWK.
Amelia likes books. She's sometimes quite adept at page turning. She's quite studious.
She's still fond of her potty, though yesterday she nearly stood up off of it. Her whole butt was in the air and everything. Eep! I also discovered that she can stand up by holding onto the couch. I guess it's only a matter of time before she's cruising and walking along the edges of furniture. Eep! She's not crawling yet, though. Maybe she'll figure out how to do that while we're at my parents house. There's a dog and some cats she might get motivated to chase.
Amelia can pick up Cheerios with her thumb and forefinger in a pincer grip. Our home visitor and a couple motor development researchers were super impressed. They tell me this takes some pretty complicated brain processing to do, so at her age, it's impressive. Maybe I should brag about her pincer grip more often if it's so impressive... Nah. My face (particularly my nose) does not appreciate that pincer grip very much. Oooh, and neither do my inner upper arms. She like to pinch me there while nursing. I've taken to wearing baby pants on my arms occasionally.
Still not really eating. Whatever. We offer her food to play with. Sometimes she will taste it. So far she seems more fond of vegetables than fruit. Weird. She has even less interest in baby food. Speaking of which, we'd decided not to bother with purées. So. If you live in the Springfield area and have an avid purée-eater, we have tons and tons of jars of baby food and a couple of packages of baby cereal that were all given to us. These need a home. Let me know.
She's making some very speech-like sounds. She sounds like many teenagers I know. ("Blah blah blah blah...") Hmm. What else... Ooh. Amelia reminds me of a little scientist carefully performing trials over and over and over again.
I'm doing all right too. I've been reading a lot. My goal is to read and return all my library books before I leave on my trip to Utah and Arizona.
Love and science,
Jenna and Amelia
1 I know they all mean "easy" baby, but I think it's awful to imply that any baby that isn't easy is a "bad" baby. All babies are good babies.↩
Good news! I am becoming more and more convinced that taking Amelia to the chiropractor has changed her disposition so that she's a super happy baby. It's absolutely wonderful. She smiles so much more. Now, when she smiles at strangers and they say she's a good baby1, I actually agree that yes, Amelia is quite the joy to have around.
She's so good-mannered that I think James has even succumbed to her baby powers. At least once a day I hear him say something along the lines of "She's SO cuuute!" in a high-pitched voice. Before he decided not to check Facebook so often, I had to be careful not to post too many cute baby pictures on Facebook, or else James would no longer be able to concentrate. Once he got Amelia cravings, so we had to visit him at lunchtime.
She's starting to get better at playing alone. And by alone, I mean someone is sitting next to her and she is ignoring them while playing. If you try to go into the next room to, say, cook up a masterpiece of a meal that will make your husband worship your shadow for 3.1415 years, SQUAWK.
Amelia likes books. She's sometimes quite adept at page turning. She's quite studious.
She's still fond of her potty, though yesterday she nearly stood up off of it. Her whole butt was in the air and everything. Eep! I also discovered that she can stand up by holding onto the couch. I guess it's only a matter of time before she's cruising and walking along the edges of furniture. Eep! She's not crawling yet, though. Maybe she'll figure out how to do that while we're at my parents house. There's a dog and some cats she might get motivated to chase.
Amelia can pick up Cheerios with her thumb and forefinger in a pincer grip. Our home visitor and a couple motor development researchers were super impressed. They tell me this takes some pretty complicated brain processing to do, so at her age, it's impressive. Maybe I should brag about her pincer grip more often if it's so impressive... Nah. My face (particularly my nose) does not appreciate that pincer grip very much. Oooh, and neither do my inner upper arms. She like to pinch me there while nursing. I've taken to wearing baby pants on my arms occasionally.
Still not really eating. Whatever. We offer her food to play with. Sometimes she will taste it. So far she seems more fond of vegetables than fruit. Weird. She has even less interest in baby food. Speaking of which, we'd decided not to bother with purées. So. If you live in the Springfield area and have an avid purée-eater, we have tons and tons of jars of baby food and a couple of packages of baby cereal that were all given to us. These need a home. Let me know.
She's making some very speech-like sounds. She sounds like many teenagers I know. ("Blah blah blah blah...") Hmm. What else... Ooh. Amelia reminds me of a little scientist carefully performing trials over and over and over again.
I'm doing all right too. I've been reading a lot. My goal is to read and return all my library books before I leave on my trip to Utah and Arizona.
Love and science,
Jenna and Amelia
1 I know they all mean "easy" baby, but I think it's awful to imply that any baby that isn't easy is a "bad" baby. All babies are good babies.↩
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Upcoming Adventures
Eeee! Because James will be going to several math conferences in the next few months, I decided the coming months would be an ideal time to visit far-away friends and family before Amelia gets too big to share a plane seat with me. I'm super excited!
So the plan is this.
Firstly, I'll fly down to Utah to visit friends at BYU before they all graduate and scatter across the country. Maybe say hello to some family members and such... I'll stay for a week, staying at least part of the time with Clifton, Amanda, and baby Kate. Theoretically I will also say hello to the Copes and get tasty blueberry waffles.
Then Amelia and I will fly down to Arizona where my parents (and several other relatives) are. I'll be there for two weeks or so. I've heard that my home ward was split since I visited last, so I'll visit both wards with heavy fan club populations. I assume I'll go to my parents' ward first, then go to the other ward the subsequent Sunday. I am secretly hoping I'll get tons of invitations for dinner. (Just thought I'd plant that suggestion in your mind.)
Woo! Excited! After those three weeks are up I will return home and be (mildly) gross with James at the baggage claim.
But this isn't all! Most of James' family (with the notable exception of his dad) will be going on a cross-country road trip. They will eventually make it all the way from Pennsylvania to Oregon. Amelia and I may accompany them on the drive back to Pennsylvania and then we can fly back. I'm not sure who we'll see on the way back, but I assume there will be a number of far-flung relatives involved.
And then after all that I will come home... And then pack up all our stuff and put it in a storage unit. Then James, Amelia, and I will likely live in Berkeley, California for three months so that James can hang out with tons of researchers who also research general relativity.
I am pretty excited about this prospect, because when James originally told me about this three-month thingy, we assumed that he would have to go alone, and that I would be living all alone with a baby for the entire fall. I was sad about it, but I had a strong feeling that I should encourage him to go because it was important. I hadn't imagined that we could get funding to go with him! How exciting!
Then, when we get back to the Eugene-Springfield area, we will move into a new apartment. We don't know if it will still be in the same ward, but we figured since we'd be moving anyway, we should move in to a place with a washer and dryer hookup. And carpet. And without stairs. There's a place in our ward jokingly called Little Provo that meets these specifications, but we're far from certain about where we'll end up.
Amelia is pseudo-mobile. She's been scooting along the floor...backwards. She's just gone halfway across the room. And now she's frustrated.
Love and travels,
Jenna and Amelia
P.S. I randomly decided what to call our next child while he our she is in utero... Microraptor. Number three will be Triceratops.
P.P.S. No, I am not pregnant. As far as I know anyway.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Six Months Old Already
Today was Amelia's six month checkup. For the hardcore Amelia fans, here are the stats.
Height: 26.75 inches (90th percentile)
Weight: 21 lbs 9.5 oz (above the 95th percentile)
Head circumference: 17.25 inches (90th percentile)
Shots: one in her right thigh and one in her left thigh (she whine-cried for about five seconds, then promptly shut up once I picked her up)
Development: mostly pretty average, very good at interacting with people, very interested in surroundings... not at all interested in rolling over (she is, however, capable of doing so; I saw her do it once on Monday)
Comments from the pediatrician: "She is always so bright-eyed and intent!"
Diaper size: 4
Shirt size: 12 month (snug) to 2T (somewhat loose)
Pants size: 9 month
Sock size: 18-36 month
Cuteness factor: ludicrously cute
Height: 26.75 inches (90th percentile)
Weight: 21 lbs 9.5 oz (above the 95th percentile)
Head circumference: 17.25 inches (90th percentile)
Shots: one in her right thigh and one in her left thigh (she whine-cried for about five seconds, then promptly shut up once I picked her up)
Development: mostly pretty average, very good at interacting with people, very interested in surroundings... not at all interested in rolling over (she is, however, capable of doing so; I saw her do it once on Monday)
Comments from the pediatrician: "She is always so bright-eyed and intent!"
Diaper size: 4
Shirt size: 12 month (snug) to 2T (somewhat loose)
Pants size: 9 month
Sock size: 18-36 month
Cuteness factor: ludicrously cute
She will also be starting fluoride drops every day since there isn't any fluoride in the water here. And we like pearly white teeth around here.
Oh, and since the doctor's noticed Amelia wheezing on more than one occasion (as have we), we are trying an albuterol inhaler until Monday to see if it helps. The idea is to deal with the wheezing now before she'd need a steroid inhaler, because those have some not so pleasant side effects for kids. The wheezing is probably completely unrelated to Amelia's fussiness. I also asked it she was wheezing because she's so fat. The answer is no. Bum.
Speaking of which, I have to confess I like Amelia's naked baby bum. I always thought it was weird when my dad would tell my bum used to fit in his hand. But now I understand. Baby bums are cute.
Amelia has continued to be regularly fussy. For all of you who were telling me a month and a half ago that she's teething... there are no teeth in that little mouth of hers yet. And things that are supposed to numb the gums don't seem to help. Nor do any traditional teething pain remedies. Oh well.
I assume most, if not all, of you have been following Amelia's progress on Facebook. But in case you haven't been, she underwent a slew a tests, all of which were normal. Lots and lots of blood tests... some stool tests... and a head ultrasound.
So, the only thing left to try, I've decided, is chiropractic adjustment. (The idea is, a baby might get a pinched nerve during a traumatic birth or something. And I don't know if birth was traumatic for Amelia per se, but at the very least her entire head was a giant bruise when she came out. It's possible.) I'd been putting it off, because our insurance doesn't cover a lot of the chiropractors in town, including many of the ones that are good with babies.
But! One of our friends (who also has a baby about six months old) has a dad who is a chiropractor... and he'll adjust her weekly for free for anywhere from six weeks to three months. Also exciting for me? He just happens to be a preferred provider for our insurance, so I can get adjusted too. Woo!
The bad news... Dr. Clifton is fifty minutes away. I should remind you that Amelia has made her feelings about car rides abundantly clear: car rides are akin to torture.
Well, we made the journey on Monday. By the time we got there, I was a wreck. You try driving that long with a screaming baby. Now don't get lost or killed. I did take a wrong turn somewhere too. And, as if that wasn't stressful enough, somehow I ended up with a horn-happy truck behind me who'd honk angrily anytime I braked at all. Not exactly sure how I ticked the driver off so much, but clearly, I did.
We made it, and the chiropractor adjusted a few places for Amelia. Her legs now appear to be the same length, whereas it at first seemed her left leg was shorter.
My adjustment was much more of a process. They took an x-ray of my neck. It is bending the wrong way. "Wow. You DO need to be adjusted," was the doctor's comment. And so I was adjusted in about a gerjillion places. I am suddenly sleeping better, and I don't have any headaches or other aches. Magic. Yes, I do indeed think there should be more chiropractic adjustments in my life.
I'm not sure what to tell you about how Amelia's been since her adjustment. Here are my observations, though. For one, she hasn't cried during any car rides. This is highly unusual. She has had some major crying spells, but besides one exception, those seemed to have obvious causes... like being really, really tired... or really, really bored. There has also been a slight increase in good naps. I was also surprised at how her shots today seemed to be no big deal. (A little deal, yes, but only worth crying about for a few seconds, apparently.)
So, at least for a little while, Amelia and I will be travelling to Lebanon every Monday to see the chiropractor. I'm pretty sure I'll at least benefit from it, even if Amelia doesn't. And she does seem to like the staff. While I was being adjusted, she perfectly happy "helping" the receptionists.
Anyway, I've also been wanting to do another "a day in the life" post, but I'm not sure I have enough time tonight. Instead, I guess, I'll write a letter to Amelia about what she is like now.
Dear Amelia,
I do believe you are developing a sense of humor... and the capacity to giggle. You think it's funny when I make exaggerated chewing sounds, and when I pretend to eat your belly. I don't think you're ticklish. You enjoy sticking your tongue out. Your favorite sounds to make are spit gurgles and raspberries.
One of my favorite things is your face first thing in the morning. Although I admit I dread when you open your eyes because I'd usually like to sleep another four or five hours, I find that my heart melts when I see you twist your head up to see if I'm awake yet. I usually pretend I'm still asleep. You wiggle and wiggle and wiggle impatiently. And when I finally open my eyes, you immediately flash your biggest grin.
I do my best to entertain you all day while dad is at school and while Auntie Beek is at work, but I think you get bored with me pretty quickly. I often find that when I am unable to console, your dad will waltz on in from a long day at work, and you will be just tickled pink to see him. You really like to play with dad. I sometimes think I must be boring.
But perhaps I'm not all that boring. I think you might be the most fun for me after you've gotten bored with dad in the evenings. I'll take you back, and you are all full of grins. This is the time of day when I am most likely to get some giggles out of you. Your giggles are the best, particularly after a long day of mostly just screams.
Sometimes at night you make it way too hot for a blanket. It's okay, though. You're a pretty good cuddle buddy. You somehow push both of us across the bed at least a foot during the night. I think this happens because I move over a few inches when you're done nursing in the night. And then I wake up to find you snug up against me, bobbing for nipples.
We are getting kind of good at communicating. You've gotten into the habit of leaving your mouth wide, wide open if you're hungry. Sometimes you will try to suck on my cheeks or my chin when you're hungry. Or sometimes, you try to latch on through my shirt. You are never successful.
Yesterday you sat up unsupported for nearly three minutes. You only sit up when you are in the mood to do so, though. It's fairly often that we will try to sit you up, but you lock your legs and refuse to do anything but stand. You also seem to enjoy being held upside down. Strange child.
You are terrified of the blender. Also the popcorn popper. You cling to me when those make noise. And, if you're asleep, you scream yourself awake like you just had a nightmare of mechanical horrors.
You do not like diapers. I caught you yesterday morning with your diaper half-off, and this morning I found you scratching at it. You much prefer to use the potty. I don't blame you. You also seem to dislike clothing. I have discovered that it is far easier and far less traumatic to wrap you in a blanket when going outside than to try and strap you into a sweater or coat.
You like going to storytime at the library. Not only do you enjoy the songs, I think you particularly like to watch all the toddlers be exciting. It also seems that, among strangers, kids are your biggest fans. Today while we were at the pharmacy, some little girls came up and told me how cute you were. They danced for you while I was preoccupied with the pharmacist. Just before that when I was strapping you in the shopping cart seat, a boy told me how cute you were. Then he told me all about what he was going to buy in the store. At the doctors office, some other kids stared at you, then tugged on their parents' sleeves and pointed you out. Things like this happen all the time.
It seems you would really like to crawl, but so far you fail miserably at it. Instead, you do a kind of Army scoot... you dig your face into the ground, essentially smothering yourself, and then you push yourself forward a few inches with your feet. You don't roll over very much. I've only seen you do it once. I think you only did it because you were avoiding getting your eyes clawed out by another baby. (Your eyes are shiny, you know.) You particularly enjoy playing your feet.
You haven't started eating solid foods yet, although I suppose you are technically old enough now. Your only interest in food seems to be in watching us intently when we eat it... and I think you were determined to squish yourself some sweet, messy raspberries tonight. You are always very confused if we ever offer you any food to eat. You are definitely a mama's milk girl.
I love you lots, Amelia. I think you must be pretty smart, because you're always so intently studying everything. You are so studious. Sometimes I suspect you'll have everything figured out by the end of the week.
Love you forever and like you for always,
Mom
Speaking of which, I have to confess I like Amelia's naked baby bum. I always thought it was weird when my dad would tell my bum used to fit in his hand. But now I understand. Baby bums are cute.
Amelia has continued to be regularly fussy. For all of you who were telling me a month and a half ago that she's teething... there are no teeth in that little mouth of hers yet. And things that are supposed to numb the gums don't seem to help. Nor do any traditional teething pain remedies. Oh well.
I assume most, if not all, of you have been following Amelia's progress on Facebook. But in case you haven't been, she underwent a slew a tests, all of which were normal. Lots and lots of blood tests... some stool tests... and a head ultrasound.
So, the only thing left to try, I've decided, is chiropractic adjustment. (The idea is, a baby might get a pinched nerve during a traumatic birth or something. And I don't know if birth was traumatic for Amelia per se, but at the very least her entire head was a giant bruise when she came out. It's possible.) I'd been putting it off, because our insurance doesn't cover a lot of the chiropractors in town, including many of the ones that are good with babies.
But! One of our friends (who also has a baby about six months old) has a dad who is a chiropractor... and he'll adjust her weekly for free for anywhere from six weeks to three months. Also exciting for me? He just happens to be a preferred provider for our insurance, so I can get adjusted too. Woo!
The bad news... Dr. Clifton is fifty minutes away. I should remind you that Amelia has made her feelings about car rides abundantly clear: car rides are akin to torture.
Well, we made the journey on Monday. By the time we got there, I was a wreck. You try driving that long with a screaming baby. Now don't get lost or killed. I did take a wrong turn somewhere too. And, as if that wasn't stressful enough, somehow I ended up with a horn-happy truck behind me who'd honk angrily anytime I braked at all. Not exactly sure how I ticked the driver off so much, but clearly, I did.
We made it, and the chiropractor adjusted a few places for Amelia. Her legs now appear to be the same length, whereas it at first seemed her left leg was shorter.
My adjustment was much more of a process. They took an x-ray of my neck. It is bending the wrong way. "Wow. You DO need to be adjusted," was the doctor's comment. And so I was adjusted in about a gerjillion places. I am suddenly sleeping better, and I don't have any headaches or other aches. Magic. Yes, I do indeed think there should be more chiropractic adjustments in my life.
I'm not sure what to tell you about how Amelia's been since her adjustment. Here are my observations, though. For one, she hasn't cried during any car rides. This is highly unusual. She has had some major crying spells, but besides one exception, those seemed to have obvious causes... like being really, really tired... or really, really bored. There has also been a slight increase in good naps. I was also surprised at how her shots today seemed to be no big deal. (A little deal, yes, but only worth crying about for a few seconds, apparently.)
So, at least for a little while, Amelia and I will be travelling to Lebanon every Monday to see the chiropractor. I'm pretty sure I'll at least benefit from it, even if Amelia doesn't. And she does seem to like the staff. While I was being adjusted, she perfectly happy "helping" the receptionists.
Anyway, I've also been wanting to do another "a day in the life" post, but I'm not sure I have enough time tonight. Instead, I guess, I'll write a letter to Amelia about what she is like now.
Dear Amelia,
I do believe you are developing a sense of humor... and the capacity to giggle. You think it's funny when I make exaggerated chewing sounds, and when I pretend to eat your belly. I don't think you're ticklish. You enjoy sticking your tongue out. Your favorite sounds to make are spit gurgles and raspberries.
One of my favorite things is your face first thing in the morning. Although I admit I dread when you open your eyes because I'd usually like to sleep another four or five hours, I find that my heart melts when I see you twist your head up to see if I'm awake yet. I usually pretend I'm still asleep. You wiggle and wiggle and wiggle impatiently. And when I finally open my eyes, you immediately flash your biggest grin.
I do my best to entertain you all day while dad is at school and while Auntie Beek is at work, but I think you get bored with me pretty quickly. I often find that when I am unable to console, your dad will waltz on in from a long day at work, and you will be just tickled pink to see him. You really like to play with dad. I sometimes think I must be boring.
But perhaps I'm not all that boring. I think you might be the most fun for me after you've gotten bored with dad in the evenings. I'll take you back, and you are all full of grins. This is the time of day when I am most likely to get some giggles out of you. Your giggles are the best, particularly after a long day of mostly just screams.
Sometimes at night you make it way too hot for a blanket. It's okay, though. You're a pretty good cuddle buddy. You somehow push both of us across the bed at least a foot during the night. I think this happens because I move over a few inches when you're done nursing in the night. And then I wake up to find you snug up against me, bobbing for nipples.
We are getting kind of good at communicating. You've gotten into the habit of leaving your mouth wide, wide open if you're hungry. Sometimes you will try to suck on my cheeks or my chin when you're hungry. Or sometimes, you try to latch on through my shirt. You are never successful.
Yesterday you sat up unsupported for nearly three minutes. You only sit up when you are in the mood to do so, though. It's fairly often that we will try to sit you up, but you lock your legs and refuse to do anything but stand. You also seem to enjoy being held upside down. Strange child.
You are terrified of the blender. Also the popcorn popper. You cling to me when those make noise. And, if you're asleep, you scream yourself awake like you just had a nightmare of mechanical horrors.
You do not like diapers. I caught you yesterday morning with your diaper half-off, and this morning I found you scratching at it. You much prefer to use the potty. I don't blame you. You also seem to dislike clothing. I have discovered that it is far easier and far less traumatic to wrap you in a blanket when going outside than to try and strap you into a sweater or coat.
You like going to storytime at the library. Not only do you enjoy the songs, I think you particularly like to watch all the toddlers be exciting. It also seems that, among strangers, kids are your biggest fans. Today while we were at the pharmacy, some little girls came up and told me how cute you were. They danced for you while I was preoccupied with the pharmacist. Just before that when I was strapping you in the shopping cart seat, a boy told me how cute you were. Then he told me all about what he was going to buy in the store. At the doctors office, some other kids stared at you, then tugged on their parents' sleeves and pointed you out. Things like this happen all the time.
It seems you would really like to crawl, but so far you fail miserably at it. Instead, you do a kind of Army scoot... you dig your face into the ground, essentially smothering yourself, and then you push yourself forward a few inches with your feet. You don't roll over very much. I've only seen you do it once. I think you only did it because you were avoiding getting your eyes clawed out by another baby. (Your eyes are shiny, you know.) You particularly enjoy playing your feet.
You haven't started eating solid foods yet, although I suppose you are technically old enough now. Your only interest in food seems to be in watching us intently when we eat it... and I think you were determined to squish yourself some sweet, messy raspberries tonight. You are always very confused if we ever offer you any food to eat. You are definitely a mama's milk girl.
I love you lots, Amelia. I think you must be pretty smart, because you're always so intently studying everything. You are so studious. Sometimes I suspect you'll have everything figured out by the end of the week.
Love you forever and like you for always,
Mom
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