u8ashark

Anyone who knows me knows I’m just a little bit expressive in the face when I talk . . . OK, really, really expressive. I was apparently making this face tonight while talking and babygirl was watching me intently. Suddenly she screwed up her face and made the same series of expressions. When we laughed in delight it was just fuel for the little entertainer in her and she kept it up long enough for me to get the camera.

The best part is she’s got my sound effects down pat.

Damn, those eyes are blue, babygirl!

Babygirl had her first meal of solid food today.

I mixed up a whole 1/4 teaspoon of rice cereal. Here is what 1/4 teaspoon looks like:

Well you have to start somewhere.

She did much better than I thought she would. I expected the whole mess to come flying back out of her mouth at mach speed but she didn’t spit up any of it. Only a tiny bit, in greatly diluted form, drooled out. She was so cute the way she chewed the cereal before she swollowed — entirely unnecessay at this point in her solid-eating career but adorable none-the-less. She would open her mouth wide like a baby bird every time the spoon came towards her mouth. She must have been watching us for a while. You could tell she was really enjoying the experience.

Right now babygirl is watching the copy of The Little Mermaid my father bought me forever ago for my birthday. He bought me one of the later versions sans the infamous alleged phallus on the cover. Babygirl loves the movie and will kick her legs and emit her baby laugh while watching. It’s funny how she demonstrates definite preferences even this early. Must be the starring red-head.

For the past week, babygirl has been ’singing’ to us at night time. It’s her regular baby coos but they are higher pitched and the sounds are modulated. She’ll sometimes go on quite a tear. It’s so cute! We used the new digital camera my hubby bought me for Mother’s Day to record some of her sessions. She very likely has been singing to me for longer than just this last week but I couldn’t hear her over the coughing.

Babygirl has been working on getting her foot into her mouth for a while now. Last night was her first success!

The thumb sucking thing really hasn’t been enough satisfaction for her and she doesn’t do it that often. She prefers to stick her thumb in the side of her mouth and gnaw. Several fingers are also good. The pacifier remains the all-time favorite. There is still the old standby of trying to put her whole baby fist, or both of them, in her mouth. It will make a great party trick when she’s a co-ed.

Babygirl discovered the purpose of her thumb today and not just for chomping on like in the past. There’s actual suckage going on. It only took her 9 months of in-utero plus 5 on the planet to figure it out.

Nugget,

I think the 5th month you’ve been breathing on the planet can best be described as the month your daddy came home sick and gave it to your mommy who inevitably gave it to you and your nose was so filled with snot and your eyes got so bad we had to take you to the CHOA ER in the middle of the night and they told us you had a cold and pink eye and we needed to put drops in your eyes three times a day for a week but then your daddy was getting better and your mommy was getting better too when your daddy brought home another cold and gave it to your mommy right before he left for Mexico and your mommy got so sick she coughed and coughed and coughed till she threw up and she had to go to the doctor and your Daddy was sick in Mexico and had to visit a Mexican Clinicia and Farmacía and the whole time you had awful snot and a pitiful little cough.

I felt so awful that I gave you my cold. While mommy was sick and hacking up her lungs you were the sweetest, most cuddly, wanting-to-be-held baby you’ve ever been and mommy wanted to just eat you up. Previously momma would have said that caring for you in the first three months of your life, especially the first one when we were still on round-the-clock-duty, was the hardest thing she’s ever done. Now your momma would say that caring for a sick infant who can’t sleep all night because she’s sick and inconsolable while being sick herself and having your daddy out of the country is the hardest thing she’s ever done. If I could have sucked the offending snot out of your head like a dementor will suck out a soul I certainly would have just to comfort you and make you feel better. Finally momma had to go on antibiotics, which scared her to death because of the thrush, just to get well enough to care for you. Then I had to give you up. Your aunt cared for you for two days and I felt like a piece of me was somewhere far away. I slept, got a tiny bit better, and then had a shot of mommy adrenaline when she called and said your little cousin had strep. I left to get you that same second. I had been on antibiotics for 48 hours at that point so I could cover you with all the kisses you deserved. Your aunt said you were a perfect angel and didn’t cry the whole time she kept you which is what you started doing right when I got there. Momma wondered what was so awful about momma but she’s just insecure like that. You just had gas, right?

Physically you just seem determined to push the limits. This whole month you’ve pulled yourself to standing after your “baby sit-up” and momma has the Bob Marley song, “Get Up; Stand Up” stuck in her head. You don’t have to tense your whole body up to do a baby sit-up anymore; you just roll up as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Of course, you’ve been doing it more than half your life now. You watch your momma intently as she eats and I think this is a sign you’re ready to try solids which the Dr told us to do but we haven’t tried yet because 1. Your cousin got married and we didn’t want you to have new digestive side effects while away from home 2. We’ve all been sick and I didn’t think that was a good time to try anything new and 3. momma’s not really looking forward to the change in poo stank momma’s been told you’ll have. Also momma feels like she’s kinda got caring for you down to a manageable routine, finally, and she doesn’t want to let that go. However such is life and you seem determined to chew everything in reach, especially the bottle nipple and your entire baby fist. Here is a picture of you reading your “Poop Happens” sign.

I made a whole batch of larger swaddle blankets with room to grow for you because it’s still the best way to soothe your tired little person. You don’t really look into my eyes anymore while you eat (or chew). You want to look at everything but me. I’m glad you still want to hold momma’s finger. When I’m looking down into your face I’ve been struck lately with how you look less like a baby sometimes and more like a miniature person. Your face is so serious. It’s great that we can get you cracked up and giggly and your baby cackle is a pleasure. You still love having your feet rubbed and although you rolled over from front to back for the first time a month ago you haven’t started doing it on a regular basis until recently. I have to watch you now when you’re on the bed. You drool constantly and I’ve found that bibs are my new friend. Standing is your all time favorite activity. You still haven’t tired of Language Nursery and your Aquarium Bouncer still entertains you while I shower. On the way to the wedding you sat in a highchair for the first time at Smoakey’s B.B.Q.

I’ve talked to a lot of mommies who admit they didn’t much like being a mommy during the first year when things were so hard but they didn’t admit this until later. I can honestly say, kiddo, that I really enjoy being your mommy. We spent my first Mother’s Day just the two of us because your daddy was still south of the border and although I thought it would be kinda sad it turned out to be just fine. People were nice to us while we were out and you were cuddly. You are so much work and daily I’m having to become stronger and more disciplined and less selfish and lots of things I’ve never been before. Thanks for doing it to me kiddo. I love you more than these words can express.

Love,

Momma

I read in the news this morning that Paul McCartney and his second wife, Heather Mills McCartney are separating after nearly four years of marriage. The dissolution of a marriage is always a sad occasion; I hate to see it happen to anyone. However, one part of the news article struck me as funny.

“Mills McCartney has been accused [by observers] of meddling in her husband’s career . . . and even of influencing him on issues as diverse as dying his hair and plastic surgery.”

So what. She’s his wife, right? You know, aka, “life partner?” What kind of life partner would she be if she didn’t have an influence on her husband when he wanted to change his hair or go through major surgery? Not exactly “meddling” in my book.

As a married couple you would definitely discuss major surgery together, and plastic surgery involving general anesthesia is definitely major surgery with all it’s inherent risks. It’s something that requires a joint decision by a couple.

The other part is what really worries me . . . she influences him on “dying his hair.” How AWFUL! Call out the wife police, we’ve got a renegade wife here who wants a say in how her husband looks! Come on people! Most guys NEED our help here and the ones that don’t, like my husband for example, will still seek out a second opinion. A man who was capable of dressing himself before we got married will still check if a new pants and shirt combo is appropriate. Guys definitely want approval from us ladies. They want us to think they are attractive and wonderful and pulled together. It’s our JOB to give them this support.

This was from an AP article so no credit was given. I’m guessing “single” and “male” and in for a real shock when he takes the plunge.

I went to Whole Paycheck Foods after dropping off babygirl because I needed to buy the worlds largest jar of acidopolous and yogurt with “active and live cultures;’ I’m NOT getting thrush again. Ever. I asked a man working in the dairy section for help finding the type of yogurt I was looking for. He had the darkest skin and an accent that gave away his African birthplace — well that and the ritualistic scars on his face. I asked him where he was from and he said The Sudan. I told him “I’d noticed the” and pointed to the areas of my face that related to his scarification. “Yes, the scars,” he smiled. Sounded like “yahs, dhe skahs.” I just adore listening to heavily accented people speak but really I was just stalling for time here.

Now, I CAN tell you that The Sudan is just south of Egypt and the place of unspeakable civil war and human rights atrocities but not much more than that. Unsure if asking him if he’s from the north or the south would be a rude question to ask considering the north’s genocide against the south the only thing I could think to ask him was how long he’d been here. When he told me seven years I profoundly said “Oh. Well, welcome.” I felt like such a huge, ignorant American idiot. Even the worst parts of my childhood pale to what forced him to immigrate; I’ve rarely felt so, so, inconsequential . . . and so meaningless in my life. I was embarrassed at my relatively frivolous and carefree life, although this life I’ve been given is a blessing not to be shamed.

He told me he’d look in the back to see if they have any more yogurt; we’d already picked out about a case worth of different flavors. Not understanding exactly what he meant I still waited for him to come back. Out of the cooler he walked with a whole case of Key Lime Pie flavored yogurt. I didn’t want anymore, I had so much already, but when he handed me the case and said, “thes is my favorit,” I didn’t refuse. When the man from The Sudan who’se escaped true horror tells you that something here in America is his favorite, you don’t refuse.

Babygirl’s new trick today is smacking her lips. She’s done it four times already. OK, make that five.

Babygirl has the only ‘pink’ you don’t want to have as a little girl — pink eye. The ‘24 hours till she’s no longer contagious’ ends roughly 24 hours from the 1st dose of medicated drops we gave her when we got home from the ER last night at 2:30 am. To quote a line from a Pulitzer Prize winning novel her eyes look like “two piss holes in the snow.” She looks so pitiful swaddled up to keep her hands out of her eyes. Babygirl and I won’t be going ANYWHERE today.