Pants at 7 months. Photo by Peg Speth. 

New funny thing she does!

We're feeding Lucy dinner last night: oatmeal, carrots and peaches, I think. She's ravenous, since she refused to eat much of her previous two bottles of milk. Which means that I have exactly three seconds from the time I deposit one spoonful of glop into her mouth, until the next spoonful arrives lipside, before she starts to squawk.
Now, she's always been good about opening her mouth for the spoon. But last night she started, in Joel's words, "taking it to the next level" by kind of, well, trying to open her mouth sideways as well. Urgh! It's so hard to describe. So here's an exercise:
Open your mouth wide (as you would if someone were spoon-feeding you).
Pull the muscles of your lower lip sideways, kind of large-mouth bass-like.

That's what she was doing. I'm not sure if she thought she could get more food that way, or what, but it was soooo funny.

Softbaaallllll!

It was kind of an exhausting weekend at our house. We didn't have any set plans, or even goals in mind (like "re-roof the house" or "paint the bathroom" or "flush the toilet"), and although sometimes this unstructured approach works well, sometimes we just end up waking up Monday morning with sorted piles of dirty laundry and Dorito crumbs between our toes.
One of the toughest parts about spring weekends is the unpredictability of the weather. It could have been 80 and sunny, or it could easily have snowed. Or it could do both, within about three hours. This weekend was kind of sneaky, with the previous week all lovely and warm, and us waking up on Saturday to happy sunshiny... and 35 degrees. Yipes! And Lucy just wasn't herself this weekend -- crying uncontrollably but then refusing to eat... waking up at 4 AM... it just wasn't the same Lucy we've grown to know and REALLY APPRECIATE in the last couple of months. Well, she started the weekend with SIX POOPS on Friday, and it was kind of downhill from there. We think she might be teething or something. Poor hoot. But otherwise she's really an angel. She sat and watched Jean and Joel and I hit softballs at each other on Sunday (only occasionally commenting on our respective swings), and she *did* wolf down anything we tried to feed her that didn't come in a bottle -- go figure.

My good deed for the weekend was taking Hobo and the Watsons' chocolate lab Sonja for a walk on Sunday morning. The first two blocks were the toughest, with Hobo in full-bore pulling mode and Sonja chomping madly on her leash. We did settle into a nice pace, though, until the LAST two blocks when we came upon a ceramic Cocker Spaniel in a neighbor's yard. Holy buckets, for a ceramic dog, she sure whipped Hobo and Sonja into a frenzy. I wound up at the Watsons' front door with one leash around my ankles and my left elbow pinned behind my ear.

So here it is Monday morning and due to the unsettled weather and my aching hips and shins I am wearing the closest thing to pajamas, a decidedly anti-springy black-on-black ensemble guaranteed to make me look as though I've dropped those last 5 pounds of baby weight, which I assure you I most certainly have NOT dropped and I'll thank you not to mention it again.

Softball starts tonight. Can't wait!!

I wrote this last Friday and never posted it.

...And it hardly seems worth it to post it now. But I'm gonna.
I have The Vapors greatest hits CD in my player at work right now. Who? You ask. You know, the one-hit '80s wonders who gave us the classic "Turning Japanese." Anyway, it's actually a pretty good pop CD! It starts with "Turning Japanese," and features a rousing "Waiting for the Weekend" (perfect for Friday!) and something called "Jimmy Jones" which, with their British accents, sounds like "Jimmy John's" which is a chain sandwich place whose quality products and chipper staff make me very happy.

An Exercise In Futility

So Joel's in Atlanta this week on business, giving me the perfect opportunity to prove my Superwomanness. Perfect mom, perfect housekeeper, perfect dog-owner, perfect marketing client service specialist for creative services... I can't wait!

This morning I leap out of bed at 5:23 on the nose, bound and determined to get a fresh start on the day. OK, it was less of a leap and more of a drag, since I'd already hit snooze twice, but ONLY twice and not three times like normal. And I hadn't actually snoozed since the alarm first went off, because Hobo was scratching his freshly-shaven (shaven?) neck and shaking the entire bed in the process. But! Just got to get Lucy and myself dressed in identical pink ensembles and trot out the door!

After deciding TO make coffee (cons: it takes a couple minutes, and there's only me drinking it so it will have to be a very small pot, and I'll have to remember to turn it off ... pros: I NEED COFFEE), and letting Hobo out, and feeding him, and building a bowl of oatmeal with sprinkles for myself, Lucy starts to cry. "Thank goodness," I think, because it means she hasn't smothered in the night, which is always good because it freaks me out a little how she can go from wide-awake at 7:57 PM, to rubbing-her-eyes-with-her-little-fists at 7:59, to placed in her crib at 8:00 and making not a single peep until 5:50 AM. It's just not natural.

So I quick grab the paper from the front walk and then fill up the sink with hot water to wash the dishes with, because I'm Super Mom!! and I let Hobo out again, but there are still some adorable hacking noises coming from the baby's room, so I go in and feed her. These morning feedings are the BEST -- no fussing, no fighting, just businesslike eating. Plus then I don't feel like I have two overstuffed balloons popping out of my chest wall.

It's 6:10 by the time we're done, so I lay Lucy back in her crib (it's still dark in her room, thanks to the quilts we've clipped over the windows because those super-cute dragonfly curtains do NOTHING to ward off sunlight and we haven't had a free moment to purchase proper shades) and turn on her little bubbling musical fishy thing. I hop in the shower, then get dressed and hair-gelled and toothbrushed and I hear the music turning on and off in the crib so I know Lucy hasn't smothered.

"Yo, mom, about this diaper!"

Right! I strip Lucy of her jammies and soggy Pampers and select an outfit that doesn't match mine AT ALL; in fact it barely matches itself, and pry her into it. I haul the exersaucer (her "office") into the kitchen and put Lucy in it, and I realize I have no lunch packed, nor have the dishes washed themselves yet. Strange, and I also have no lipstick on. And it's 6:45, the time I'm supposed to be walking out the door. ARGGH! I cannot imagine how single parents manage. At all.

Anyway, it's Wendy's for lunch for me, and I'm guessing the dishes will still be there when Joel gets back tomorrow. I CAN'T WAIT.

Deceiving the Baby

Well, I guess it starts now and ends with "Really, honey, I WANT to be in a nursing home..." ...the necessary lies we tell our offspring.

Tried to feed Lucy some peas last night. They were delightful peas, really, quite sweet and a palatable shade of green. But she wanted NOTHING of it. I have never really seen her NOT open her mouth for food before, but there she was, determinedly ignoring the spoon poised in front of her adorable little lips. And crying of course, because she could see the box of yummy rice cereal right on the table. So we mixed up a batch of what Joel likes to call "breastmilk cereal" (the phrase has a nice rhythm about it) and then clandestinely spooned the peas into the mixture. And, of course, she gobbled it down in her usual way.

Lucy was, in Joel's words, "up to her elbows in grandparents" over the weekend. My mom and dad came in on Thursday to play day-care on Good Friday, and on Sunday we helped Joel's sister Jamie move into her new townhouse, so Gramps and Gram Gronau got their time in too. It was a fun weekend, and Lucy was a dutiful sweetheart. She even slept through the night last night. YESS!

We just have to do this 12 more times until school starts

Well, we've hit the 6-month mark... 1/12 of the way to 1st grade! Amazing. Joel found a "ticklish spot" on Lucy's tummy the other night -- he *zrbrts* her there and she lets out these pealing giggles. It's awesome.

Had her 6-month checkup yesterday, and here are her vitals:
Head: 16.5" (45th%)
Weight: 16# (50th%)
Height: 26.5" (75th%)

Amazingly, she's showing no ill effects following this round of immunizations. No fever, no crabbies, and she ate and slept just wonderfully last night.

We're really getting to see some wonderful parts of her personality. She's so interested in everything we do now -- last night I was carrying her in one arm and a glass of water in my other hand, and she just stuck her hand right in the water. (Note to self not to carry her and hot coffee simultaneously.) She sits up so eagerly when it's time to eat her "dinner" (rice cereal and carrots last night) and she opens her mouth so wide when that spoon's coming in.

Day after tomorrow, we're leaving for a week in Puerto Rico. I am very nervous about vacationing with Pants at this age -- she's so much more active and demanding than she was in Orlando in December.

Ooops! Gotta run...

Things TO Feel Guilty About

So I got the latest issue of BabyTalk magazine in the mail yesterday, and they had an article called "103 Things Not To Feel Guilty About."

Once again, we are bombarded with this culture of entitlement. Maybe we wouldn't be going down the tubes as a society if people weren't encouraged NOT to feel guilty about ANYTHING. Maybe a little dose of guilt keeps us in line.

Some of the "things" mentioned in the article:

#31. Choosing to bottle-feed.

I REALIZE that I am a Nursing Nazi. But I think a little bit of guilt is in order for mothers who do not give breastfeeding their very best shot. Could you have tried harder to make it work? Could you have toughed it out and made it work? I don't think formula-feeders are bad parents, and I know sometimes it's necessary... but I know if I quit breastfeeding today, I would feel guilty. And I think that's all right.

#42. Using a video to keep your baby entertained... so you can shower or eat a little lunch.

Now, I'm ALL about getting some "me" time, even though I spend all day at work. But I feel like I SHOULD have some guilt about that. Today it's one Disney video -- tomorrow, could an hour of CSI: Miami really hurt? See, it's a slippery slope.

I mean, what's next? Don't feel guilty about not using the car seat every single time you drive with your kid? Don't feel guilty about shaking your baby that one time you were REALLY mad? Don't feel guilty about drinking and driving just once or twice? Alls I'm saying is, a little guilt is not a waste of time. It makes us reflect on our actions and keeps us in check, so that we know better or try harder next time. So the next time we have an opportunity to choose one course of action or another, we choose the one that's better for our baby, better for our neighbors, better for society as a whole.

Lacto-ingestion Parental Summoning Specialist

Joel's being transitioned into a new job within his company. His new title is Key Relationship Support Specialist. Which bumps me out of the lead for Stupidest Title In Our Household. I'm a "Client Service Specialist for Creative Services."

In other news, after three years of solid service in the Gaseous Excrement department, Hobo has been promoted to Quadriped Halitosis Specialist.

You Gotta Have a Fiddle in the Band

So Lucy's been on amoxycillin for a few days now b/c of her bronchitis. She seems to be about a zillion times better -- she's back smiling and making new noises all the time. Anyway, to get the medicine into her mouth with a minimum of spilling, we've been spoon-feeding it to her. She loves the novelty of eating with a spoon, and it's so cute how she opens her mouth so wide with each bite. Usually to feed her, we just sit her in her high chair. We've been using the chair for several months -- the seat reclines way back so she's been able to sit in it since she was very little. Well, recently we've been sitting the chair almost straight-up since she's been getting such good head- and upper-body control. So this morning, she started leaning forward for the spoon! Meaning she's really sitting up, all on her own. This seems like a big milestone to me, because I *think* that once she can sit up, we won't absolutely need a special baby chair any time we want to put her down for a sec.

Also this morning, I was trying to think of a goofy song to sing to Lucy as I was getting ready in the kitchen (so she wouldn't realize I was getting MY stuff ready rather than actually playing with her). And somehow I came up with "If you're gonna play in Texas, you gotta have a fiddle in the band..." well unfortunately those are the only words I know to that song. So I stopped there, and then out of the bathroom comes Joel, booming the next line: "That lead guitar is hot but not for Louisiana man..."
WHAT!?!? Mr. "I Don't Know Any Songs and I HATE Country Music" knows ALL the words to "If you're gonna play in Texas."

Today we're getting rid of the wagon (donating it to, I hope, some reputable charity), which happens to be the car I learned to drive in. Sad.

Life, ALTAFIED

So my company renamed itself ALTAFI (www.altafimarketing.com) and we had the big renaming launch yesterday -- the office was decked out in lime green, and they brought in subs and cake and there were some contests and whatnot. It was pretty fun actually. :) Anyway, the point of this is there was a happy hour after work yesterday at a local restaurant and when I got in my car at 5:30pm to drive home I peek at my cell phone and I see I have FOUR missed calls, which is a LOT, and one new message so I'm dialing in and I can't get the message to play and finally I do and it's Jean saying "Oh hey, someone got shot in your neighborhood just now." So I see that the other THREE messages are from Joel (who was just supposed to pick Lucy up at 4:45 and go home) so I start to freak out and I call home and the conversation went something like:
Me: "Omigod what's wrong??"
Joel: "Oh, I have SO much to tell you! Well Randy Moss got traded..."
Me: "WHAT!?!? I need these stories in DESCENDING order of importance, please. Now!!"
Joel: "Are you at home now?"
Me (forgetting that I had CALLED HIM at home): "You're not HOME!!? Where ARE you?!?!"
Joel: "Well got called into a meeting right at 4, and let me read you this letter..."
(long letter-reading ensues... phrases like "your position has been eliminated, we have a new opportunity for you... should you choose not to accept it, your employment will be terminated...)
Me: "OK, well that doesn't sound so bad. Now who got shot?"
Joel: "Oh, a Ramsey county police officer."
Me: "Like right by our house?? Like can I even get home?"
Joel: "Oh, no, up north of Lake Phalen" (which is like three MILES from us)
Me: OK, so you still have a job, nobody's dead, and you're just sitting at home?
Joel: Right.

ARRGH! Well anyway. He had gotten a little more worked-up about the job thing than was maybe merited -- the phrasing of "eliminated" and "terminated" were just HR mumbo-jumbo (we think), and it's all going to be OK. Phew!

Her Second Cold :(

Or maybe just an extension of the first one.

Yup, we have a very sick little Hoot on our hands. Oh, but she's a brave little panda, pushing out those smiles through the snuffles and coughing fits. Joel ran out through the snowstorm on Sunday morning to pick up a new bulb-suctioner (and it came with an ear-wax removal device which I have been forbidden to use -- MUAHahaha!!), so we happily sucked boogers all day yesterday. Or rather, Joel and his p's did -- I was closing my show.

In other Father-of-the-Year news, you know what Joel said the other day? I was whining about being away from him and Lucy, again, because of the show, and he said that he was so grateful for all the extra time he got to spend, one-on-one, with Lucy. How many other fathers, he asked, get to spend all this time alone with their kid? If mom's around, mom tends to hover. Joel said he was so lucky to have that extra daddy-daughter alone time.

How the HECK did I get so lucky?? Seriously. Counting our blessings...

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Louise Erdrich

When I was pregnant, I read Louise Erdrich’s The Blue Jays Dance. It was an OK book. But it made me realize that I am not the woman I thought I would be.

I had visions of becoming Louise Erdrich – an herbal-tea-drinking jogger with a home in the country, a vegetable garden and a sensitive musician husband with gorgeous hair.

Instead, I live in the city, work in a cube, drink coffee every morning, and my husband watches a LOT of television. We never play cards in the evening. We never sit around listening to music.

I recognize and, on the surface, envy the beauty of Louise Erdrich’s life. Her life is something out of a picture book, a hand-hewn scrapbook decorated with pressed leaves and photos of sunrises. But it is not my life. And my life, while more commercialized and less picturesque, is just as beautiful.

Grabby-hands Gronau

Hi again. Lucy learned a new trick! She's now grabbing everything within reach of her stubby little arms. You wouldn't imagine that simply picking things up could cause such joy, but think about it -- say your WHOLE LIFE you had no opposable thumbs and could only bat at things... and then one day you learn to close your hand around something -- well, you'd be picking things up right and left, all day long too.

I'm making a bold prediction, by the way: I think she's left-handed. Joel is doing his best to thwart this, possibly because I think he fears it'll be harder to teach her to swing a golf club correctly from the left side since neither of us is a lefty.

Last night we had reservations at White Castle (really!) for Valentine's Day. It was super fun and just perfect. They had tablecloths on the tables, and candles, and waiters all dressed up, taking our orders. Tons of fun. Lucy kept grabbing the sandwich boxes and throwing them on the floor -- she thought it was hilarious. She also held on tight to the mylar-balloon string and stared up at the floating shiny red heart above. It was like magic to her. So it's like magic to us too.

Her First Cold!

So I went to pick up Lucy from daycare on Friday, and she just didn't look like herself... pale, kind of sad of eye... anyway, she had her first cold! Sneezy, boogery, a little coughy all weekend. Poor little hoot. It wasn't that bad, though; she just slept a little more than usual. It didn't seem to affect her appetite at all, and she never did get much of a fever (it stayed under 101). All in all, we all survived and she's almost back to her old tricks again.

If I look fresh and so delicious, Don't expect me to do the dishes.

Hey there -- well things are crazy busy this week. My show opens tomorrow night and I'm terribly nervous, not even to mention very harried with work and stuff. I apologize for not posting as much as I'd like.

All I have are some random musings. I apologize for their incompleteness.

--> One minute I'm holding her, and I find myself fighting off a wish to have someplace to GO tonight. Thirty minutes later I am laying her down to sleep, wishing it wasn't bedtime yet. What is UP with me? Why do I have these terrible mixed feelings?

--> So I started reading Vicky Iovine's book "The Girlfriends Guide to Motherhood: The First Year" and I think I might be reading it about 6 months too late. It's totally mostly about "surviving the first month" with the new baby and obviously, we are WELL past that point. What I really need is "How to make it from month four through twelve". I mean, who's got time to read a BOOK when you have a brand new baby??

--> And I'm starting to get the impression that I might actually BE one of the Breastfeeding Nazis. I don't know, I guess when all the books and doctors and nurses said your should breastfeed for a full year, I just took their word for it. I am astounded that so many people give up so quickly. I mean, I know it's not easy, or convenient, to keep nursing after a few months, but I guess I think it's worth it. I mean, I'm not certain how much longer I'll be able to nurse (working and being in the show are certainly taking their toll on my supply)... but I want to try, and it sure would help to have an ally or two.

Anyway, as I said, just rambling.


Come see

A Chorus Line

!

www.bloomingtoncivictheatre.org

A tribute to the costumes:

http://www.beatgreets.com/view.pd?i=187180001&m=1387&rr=y&source=bgeg999

Bliss.

Went to visit the Dalys' new bambina yesterday. Wow, there is just nothing like a brand-new, perfect baby. She is really very pretty and you can tell C&P are just totally blissed-out. :) So fun.

Lucy's been great the last few days -- she gazes at us with those big blues and we just melt into big puddles. The other morning, Joel and I got up at like 8:00 and she was still sleeping, so we crept into her room and watched her wake up. She saw our faces and let out this big, gummy grin... oh, man, there is nothing cooler.

Nursing has been going better, too -- my new trick is, I put my free thumb into her free hand and we squeeze each other back and forth. It seems to really comfort her and let her focus on eating. I'm still not allowed to speak while she's nursing though -- I don't know if it's the noise or the vibration in my chest but she gets SO MAD! It's really endearing, actually, and it's nice to be forced to simply be quiet and enjoy the time together.

The other night I'm feeding her in her room, and Joel comes over to see how it's going. Lucy hears his voice and pulls off to turn and look at him, then she grins and chomps back on. It was so funny, so sweet.

Taking some half-days this week was THE BEST idea. I didn't get panicky at rehearsal, thinking "I COULD BE SLEEPING!" and I got some extra quality time with the Pants, which rocked. The one stinker was using vacation time to get laundry and dishes done... but at least it got done.

Tuesday Blues

Hey all. Lucy was up screaming for several hours last night. She was in bed by 8 but howling at 9, crying at 10:30 when I got home, bawling again at 11, screaming at 3 and I'm not sure she stopped at all until I got up to feed her at 5:30. It was horrid. And then at 6AM she's sitting in her high chair, grinning and stretching and completely pleased with herself. ARGH!

Gassy? Just wanting to be held? That's all we can think of. Our deepest apologies to Ellen, sleeping in the next room.

OK, I've had several complaints on not being able to comment. Yes, you do have to set up a profile first. But it only takes like a minute.

1. Click on the "comments" on the post you'd like to comment on.
2. Click on Post A Comment.
3. Now, if you don't HAVE a user name/password at blogspot.com you will have to make one first. So scroll down under "No Blogger Account?" until you see the blue box that says "Get One Now". Click on that and fill out the five boxes, being sure to follow the directions at right.
4. Make sure to check "I accept the Terms of Service".
5. Click "Continue"

Then when you want to comment AGAIN, you can do so with the user name and password you just created.

Let me know if you have further problems.