She's too sexy for her clothes

My baby's a stripper at the age of five months. Okay, she doesn't take off her own clothes (yet)--and it's certainly not for money--but she's clearly much happier when she's completely, 100% buck naked. Clothes just don't cut it for her, I guess; she prefers to flaunt what she's got to anyone within sight of her changing table. She's going to be that four-year-old who runs out into the front yard without a thread of clothing on, isn't she?

Anyway, this latest amusement of hers cracks me up even more because she'll almost always reach down and pinch the fat on her inner thighs, which seems to make her even happier. I lean down and tell her that it's possible it's just baby fat and will go away eventually, but there's a very good chance she's inherited her mother's unslim thighs, and I apologize profusely for both that and the wide hips that it's almost certain I've passed along. Hopefully I've passed along a few good traits to make up for ones like these.

Rubber ducky, you're the one

Baby B is so fun to watch in the bath now. We still have her in her infant tub, but we've got it in our regular bathtub now so she can splash as much as she wants without getting the kitchen counter soaked. We've got a rubber duck that tells us whether her bath water is too hot, and it also works well as a bath toy. (Note to self: Must buy more bath toys now that she's taking an interest in them.) I place it in the water at Baby B's feet and she kicks her feet wildly to draw the duck near, batting at it until she's got it within reach, then she grabs it with her hands (and of course puts it in her mouth). The first couple times she did this, I thought it was a fluke that she was making it look like she was purposely kicking at the duck to bring it closer but it was really just a coincidence. However, after doing it several times in a row and on different days, it's clear that's exactly what she's doing. It's actually kind of amazing to watch her and see that she's figured out how this works.

A different world view

Over the past couple of days, Baby B has been rolling around like she's been doing it for years! She's better at moving from her back to her stomach, but she's started to master the stomach-to-back roll a little better over the past couple days. Of course, this has made bedtime a little more difficult because now she rolls onto her stomach in her crib and gets upset if her arm gets in the way and she can't roll back on her own. I suspect she's also finally figured out that if she cries enough, we'll come back into her room. We're going to have to start discussing a plan of action for these moments in the future.

But the big news is that Baby B sat unassisted for the first time yesterday, for about a full minute, and I was able to get a picture of it. Looking at that picture makes her seem so much older than she is in my head; to me, she's still the delicate, tiny baby I held back in January. She's not to the point of doing it on her own all the time yet, as she still has some balance issues, but she'll be doing it before we know it. We're going to have to take a serious look at things we need to do to childproof the house soon. Thankfully we have a dog and two cats, so the house is at least pet-proof. That's a good start, but there's still much more to do.

(Oh yeah, in this picture you can see the bib that I was talking about the other day, the one that says, "More like Mommy everyday.")

Things I could sit and stare at for hours

*A warm, crackling fire

*A gorgeous sunset that paints the sky in hues of purple, pink, orange, and red

*Ocean waves gently lapping on the sandy shore

*The jellyfish tank at the aquarium

*Snowflakes falling gently on the frozen grass

*Baby B sleeping peacefully in her crib

Baby babble

There are some days that I swear I'm never going to know when Baby B's first word is spoken, because there are so many times now when it sounds like she's already saying a few real words among her nearly-constant babbling. (Now, I know she's advanced [*wink*], but not quite that advanced!)

I am making a prediction that her first word is going to be "hi," as both The Husband and I say it to her all the time. It doesn't require any complex mouth/tongue positions to say, so I'd say there's a good chance that might be it. Incidentally, though, that's one of the words I'm sometimes convinced she says right now, so who knows if I'll recognize it if she actually says it for real at some point.

This is the kind of publicity—your name in print—that makes people!

Back in January, we agreed to let our newspaper print Baby B's birth announcement so we could put it in her baby book. When there was a notice in our company newsletter a few months later to send in birth annoucements to be published, I submitted Baby B's information, and it was printed along with a picture of the two of us in the June edition.

But look out, folks, because Baby B has made the big-time now. I copy-edit a 1,000-page almanac every year, and her birth was announced and she was mentioned by name in the foreword, which was written by our editorial director to thank everyone who worked hard on the almanac. Of course, I'm convinced that there are only about three readers of our almanac (and I'm one of them because I have to be), but hey, it's a real book that's in real bookstores! Fame and glory before she's five months old. If only riches came along with it!

Oh yeah, and speaking of copy editing and babies, that reminds me of something I've been meaning to mention here. One of the great bibs we have says, "More like Mommy everyday." I've come close to stashing the bib in the back of the drawer because "everyday" in this case should actually be two words: every day. Not everyday. A small point, yes, but for a copy editor, it's quite annoying. Anyone else get the irony of a baby wearing a grammatically incorrect bib that says she's more like Mommy every day when her mom is a copy editor?

Show me those pearly whites

I have a suspicion that Baby B may be starting to teethe. Yesterday I decided to feel her gums and think I might have felt a place on the bottom where a bud might be approaching the surface. But, it's hard to tell because I can't keep my finger in there very long before she gets upset from it, and I certainly can't keep her mouth open long enough to get a good look for red, puffy gums that might indicate impending activity.

But there were several other possible clues today. Her daycare teacher said she was a little irritible today--not super-fussy, but fussy for her normal, happy self--and hardly slept at all. She doesn't sleep that much at daycare but usually will take at least a couple short (less than an hour) naps. I brought her home after work, and she just seemed "off" all night. Minor things would upset her--very out of character--and her cries just seemed different than normal.

In testing out different things to make her happy again, I gave her a cool teething ring, and she went to town on it. She'll usually put things in her mouth for a few minutes, but she rarely keeps them in her mouth longer than that. But she held a tight grip on the teething ring and gummed at it for well over an hour tonight, which helped take her fussiness down a couple notches, and then eventually it passed.

I tried looking for other signs, which have included increased drooling over the past couple weeks (could just be her salivary glands kicking into gear), a slightly runny nose today (though, The Husband and I were both sick this week, so maybe it's just that, though she hasn't shown any other signs of having a cold), and sometimes grabbing at her ear (but I think that's just where her hand ended up when I was observing...I'm not reading too much into that right now).

One thing is certain: we'll find out whether or not it's teething before long.

Missing kissing

I ended up feeling the beginnings of a head cold on Sunday night, started feeling it more on Monday, then it hit full force on early on Tuesday morning. The sinus pressure, sneezing, and general icky feeling were bad enough that I probably would have stayed home from work (a rare thing for me), but unfortunately I had to be in the office to finish a project by deadline...on just one hour of sleep (if that), it turned out. I was told by a couple different people that I looked like crap (no offense taken...I really did!), and I felt horrible. Tuesday night at home is kind of a blur because I was so out of it; it's a good thing we have a regular evening routine, because all I was doing was going through the motions between blowing my nose. I got much better sleep last night and still feel kind of crummy today, but much better in comparison to yesterday. The Husband woke up this morning with a head cold, as well, and ended up taking the day off work so he didn't infect co-workers. Hopefully his symptoms will be less miserable tomorrow. I figure as long as Baby B doesn't end up getting sick, then I'll put up with a quick cold.

But you know what's really sucked about having a cold? I can't kiss my sweet girl nearly as much as I want to. I kiss her all the time, but I've had to be more conservative with it over the past couple days. I've been thinking recently that I cannot wait until the time comes when she kisses me back on her own. I'll be completely wrapped around her little finger when that day comes.

Sketchy gift

As promised, here is The Husband's Father's Day gift, a pencil sketch of Baby B done from a photo of her after her first bath. (And no, I don't have the talent to do this. I paid to have it done.)

The "trouble" with having the happiest baby on the block

First of all, this post is not a complaint; we realize we're very fortunate to have such a happy baby. It's just sort of a funny observation that I realized recently.

So, yeah, the trouble with having a happy baby? When she does start to fuss, it sort of makes you wonder if something is seriously wrong with her since it's so out of character. We're used to getting smiles and laughs and coos all the time, so when she doesn't display those behaviors, it just seems like it must be something big causing her to act like that. I know that's not likely to be the case, but I also can't help but think it.

******

Happy Father's Day to The Husband. I'll try to get a picture posted of Baby B's gift to him tomorrow. (She earns an allowance, don't you know. For every smile, she gets $1. For every genuine laugh, she gets $3. For every night she sleeps through the night, she gets $10. But, for every dirty diaper, she gets 50 cents taken away. With being as happy a baby as she is, she has accumulated quite a bit of money and was easily able to buy a Father's Day gift and card.)

Back soon

Just a quick note to mention that all is well, but things are crazy busy at work right now, so the last thing I want to do is get on the computer for the spare hour I have at the end of the night right before bed. Translation: I don't have time to make full posts right now. I'll get back to it this weekend, I hope.

Three decades in the making

Today, at the stroke of 3:15 p.m., I turned 30 years old. I can hear my bones creaking as I type this. I'm kidding, of course; I actually have had an easy time with this milestone age, and I know I can chalk it up to the fact that I am about where I expected/hoped to be in my life at this point. If I weren't married, for example, I might have having a more difficult time of it.

But this birthday is an interesting one, because it's my first since giving birth myself. And having gone through that, I now see things so much more different than I did before. Previously, birthdays were about the person born. But this birthday, I have so much more of an appreciation for my own mom (and I've told her this very thing), and it's really her who should be celebrating instead of me. Me? I didn't do anything. She's the one who gave me life. All I did was go through a birth canal and cried at the end.

I am the firstborn child, and my parents tried for ten years (with one known miscarriage in the mix) to have me. Now, infertility now is certainly different from infertility 30 to 40 years ago because options to remedy the problems weren't nearly as prevalent back then. However, ten childless years is still ten childless years, and I know it must have been hard for my parents to want a family so badly for that long but not be able to achieve it. However, with the news of my impending arrival came some difficult news for my mother: She was diagnosed with cervical cancer at age 29.

Again, medical advances weren't as good back then, and she was strongly encouraged to abort the baby that would become me, as I was a severe risk to her health. But she did not give up on me; she refused an abortion and said she would take the chance. Three days past the due date, on June 12, 1977, at 3:15 p.m., yours truly was born. This must have been quite a fantastic moment for my parents; I have always appreciated knowing all they went through to have me, as I can't tell you how loved and wanted it has made me feel all these years. They were able to remove my mom's cervical cancer after I was born, though she had another flare-up when she found out she was (accidentally) pregnant with my sister, who is 18 months younger than I am. This time, she had to have a full hysterectomy so the cancer wouldn't return. Like it or not, she was done with her child-bearing years, though she did have two daughters to show for it.

After all she went through to have me, it's really my mom that should be lighting the candles on a fantastic birthday cake today, not me. As for me, my true celebrating will come on January 27, the anniversary of Baby B's entrance into this world.

Zoinks! The case of the phantom dirty diaper

Here's a case that not even Shaggy and Scooby would be able to solve.

Picture it: You're sitting in the recliner with your adorable infant, either letting her relax or doing something to entertain her (it doesn't matter which). All of a sudden, the airflow shifts just enough that you catch the scent of something foul, and you quickly remember all of the butt sounds you'd recently heard. The smell is faint at first, but then becomes unmistakeable in nature--something that rancid could come only from a baby's butt. All activity (or non-activity) ceases, and a quick break is made for the changing table to remedy the situation. The baby kicks happily as you detach the diaper tabs and prepare for the horror that awaits down below. You pull the front of the diaper down and there it is...

Nothing.

It's another case of THE PHANTOM DIAPER!

There's not a bit of dirtiness in the vicinity of the diaper. The smell sometimes lingers, but not always. You start to question why you even thought there could possibly be a dirty diaper in the first place, yet you were so sure of it at the time. There is no explanation, so you must chalk it up to yet another case of the phantom dirty diaper!

Baby raspberries

I'm sure it'll be very rewarding when we teach Baby B her ABCs. I'm sure we'll be so proud when we teach her how to count. And it'll be a big day when we teach her all the colors. Those milestones are still a while down the road, so I have to take pride in what she's learning now: funny sounds.

The latest funny sound I've taught Baby B is similiar to blowing a raspberry, except usually she doesn't stick her tongue out when she does it. Oh yes, my babe can make butt sounds with her mouth, imitating the sound that I directed at her first. Leonardo da Vinci, look out. Albert Einstein, move over. William Shakespeare, make room. This girl has real talent!

The small things

It's amazing the small things you get excited about as a parent...things that you'd never come close to getting excited about before the short, milk-drinking person entered your life. I was insanely eager to receive the ExerSaucer we'd ordered and couldn't wait for Baby B to try it out. The Husband put it together last night after she went to bed, and we tried it out for the first time today after work. She seemed a little overwhelmed by some of the options at first, but I think once she gets used to sitting in it, she's going to love it and it'll be good entertainment for her.

Off to bed for me. For the second night in a row, I'm up way later than I should be (however, this is the second night in a row that we've had friends visiting, so that puts me behind in getting other things done), so I need to hit the sack. I briefly fell asleep when pumping a few minutes ago, so I suspect that my path to DreamLand will be a short one.

Baby B continues to do well and doesn't seem to be spitting up or vomiting nearly as much as earlier in the week.

This is where a creative title would be if I had one

I'm tired and up much later than I should be, but I had company tonight and am just now getting around to computer stuff. Just a brief update before I head to bed...Baby B seemed to be doing better today and wasn't spitting up nearly as much. Hopefully the Zantac is helping, plus we changed her feeding schedule at daycare, so that may have helped, too.

Her daycare had a picture day two weeks ago, and the photos were ready for purchase today. They had three poses to choose from, and I ended up getting the whole package because they turned out really good! We didn't end up getting professional pics done at 3 months like a lot of people do, so that's why I ended up getting all the pics because this was when she was four months old. Maybe we'll do four months, eight months, and a year instead of the usual three months, six months, nine months, and one year.

Reflux redux

Baby B's daycare teacher called me this afternoon at 12:30 p.m. and said that she wasn't acting like herself and that she'd spit up and vomited four times in half an hour after waking up from a long nap (and it's unusual that she actually takes long naps there). They recommended that we take her to the doctor, so I gave the pediatrician a call and they said they could get us in at 1:30. So, despite being pretty busy at work, I packed up and headed out to pick up Baby B for our second doctor's visit in three days.

As expected, they don't really know what's wrong. She had lost 4 1/2 ounces since Monday, but the doctor wasn't really concerned by it. They're just guessing that it's her reflux acting up again, so they doubled the strength of her Zantac. She's not acting like she's distressed by this spitting up/vomiting, so that's good at least. She woke up at 4:30 this morning and had some trouble getting back to sleep, which is very unusual. She's had a slight fever at times for a couple days, but that could be related to the shots. That's another guess from the doctor on what's wrong, that she's still a little bit off from the shots. Or he said it could be because we recently increased the size of her daytime bottles from 6 ounces to 8 ounces. He said to give the stronger Zantac and play around with the amounts that we're feeding her and see what that does. Even though the doctor says it's too early, both of Baby B's teachers mentioned that a lot of her "symptoms" right now are teething symptoms and that she could be in the early stages of that. It's not likely at 4 1/2 months, but it's not out of the question.

She and I went home and I got some work done that I'd brought home with me while she napped in the swing for a couple hours. She was fairly fussy this evening, including one spell for about 20 minutes where she couldn't be consoled at all, but she still had plenty of happy moments this evening, too. She seemed mostly better after getting her bath and her last feeding, so hopefully this will pass soon. I can't imagine that her teachers like having to change her clothes three times in half an hour.

Capture the flag

We play a fun game each night that we call "baby capture the flag." Like the traditional version of the game, this one involves trying to, well, capture the flag--but the "flag" in our case is Baby B's bib.

See, we put a bib on her after she's dressed for bed because, even though her reflux has been a lot better lately, she does tend to spit up if she lies down too soon after eating. We've been putting her to bed about half an hour after her last feeding of the day, so the spit-up risk is still there. Instead of worrying about having to change her whole outfit and risk waking her up, we just put on a bib. However, with her able to use her hands to move the bib, we can't leave it on her all night because it's too much of a suffocation risk. (I'm very paranoid about that; we've opted not to use bumpers in her crib unless it looks like it's going to be truly necessary.) So, we wait until she's in a deep enough sleep, then the game begins.

The goal, of course, is to capture the "flag" without waking her up. I've learned that the best way to do this is in two or three different stages. First we unfasten the velco closure and she stirs just a bit. We take a step away from the crib and wait for her to settle down, then make the move to remove the bib from around her neck, again with the goal of not waking her up. It's actually really easy to do, but it sometimes feel so risky!

Speaking of bibs, I'm happy to report that I've finally found some that are perfect for our needs. They're the Carter's dribblehappy bibs (pictured above) that have a waterproof lining on the inside (but are soft cloth on the front and back) to prevent wetness from getting to the baby's clothes. I really like that the closure is on the side instead of the back, especially since Baby B still spends most of her time on her back. With the bibs that have the velcro closure in the back, it sometimes doesn't lay right when she's laying down and can bother her sometimes. Plus this side closure makes it a lot easier to remove the bib at night.

Stick it to me (well, to her)

Baby B had her four-month check-up today, and it went really well. We answered a questionnaire about milestones (she'd met all the ones listed) and the nurse got her measurements (see below). The doctor came in to examine her and asked about her feeding and sleeping schedules, how her reflux was, milestones, and other miscellaneous things. Naturally, she picked during this visit to spit up all over both herself and me, so I was a mess (and stinky) by the time the doctor came in. He gave us a feeding guide and said we could start solids anytime we wanted, though I still think we're going to wait until closer to six months to give her digestive system more time to develop. The doctor kept commenting on how pretty she was (I'm sure he says that to everyone) and what a happy baby she seemed like. You know, she really is a happy baby.

Then the nurse came back in and it was time for the dreaded shots.

She took the oral rotavirus vaccine fine, though she made a funny face from the taste of it. The nurse did the next three shots in her upper thighs in quick succession, and poor Baby B was red-faced and crying during this time. The Band-Aids were applied and I was able to pick her up to comfort her, and the funniest thing happened. Like flipping a switch, she stopped her crying, looked around at us with a neutral look, then started BEAMING AND LAUGHING when looking at the nurse! I started dying laughing myself. The nurse said, "I wish all of my patients were that good with their shots! I claim dibs on being the one to give her six-month shots!" She got a little fussy when I was checking out and on the drive home, but the last half of the drive she fell asleep and has been asleep in her carseat for the last hour (I don't want to wake her up since she missed her morning nap). She was sleepy throughout the day after her two-month shots, so I suspect the same thing may happen today.

Height: 24 7/8 inches (75th percentile)
Weight: 14 pounds, 1.5 ounces (50th to 75th percentile)
Head circumference: 16 inches (25th to 50th percentile)

The p word

I know a lot of people are fond of calling their daughter a "princess," but that is strictly a forbidden word in the House o' Baby B. There's just something about it that really rubs me the wrong way. Perhaps it's the implication that she gets whatever she wants without having to really ever earn it. Maybe it's the idea that whenever she's in distress, she'll always have someone magically come to her rescue and get her out of trouble. Or maybe it's the unreal expectation of a perfect fairy-tale life ahead of her, complete with a handsome Prince Charming awaiting her just around the corner. It seems a bit out there and too much of a fantasy for my taste, so I'm always careful not to call her my little princess, whether when we're alone or around other people. And you know, it's a shame because it seems like half of the cute onesies out there have some cutesy saying like "Daddy's little princess" or "High maintenance" on them. Call me crazy, but it's just not the image I want my daughter to be conveying to others.

A day in the life of

Inspired by a recent similar post by Bella Loves Pink, I'm going to detail a typical weekday in the life of our family from start to finish, mostly to document it for myself, as I know I'll forget things like this down the road.

5:30 a.m. - First alarm goes off.
5:50 a.m. - Get out of bed and take my shower.
6:10 a.m. - Wake up The Husband, blow-dry hair, put on make-up.
6:20 a.m. - The Husband wakes up Baby B and changes her diaper.
6:30 a.m. - Nurse Baby B for 15 to 20 minutes while The Husband takes shower and gets ready for work.
7:05 a.m. - Pick out clothes for Baby B, put bottles in daycare bag, change diaper, and dress Baby B.
7:15 a.m. - Put Baby B in car seat and send her and The Husband off.
7:20 a.m. - Grab something I can eat one-handed for breakfast (English muffin, granola bar, something like that) and pump the other side.
7:30 a.m. - The Husband and Baby B arrive at daycare and he spends 10 to 15 minutes with her there to make sure she's happy and comfortable before he leaves. During the day, she gets bottles at 9:30 a.m., 12:30 p.m., and 3:30 p.m. right now.
7:40 a.m. - Finish getting dressed and gather my pump (including ice pack for bottles I'll pump during the day) and work tote bag.
7:55 a.m. - Leave for work.
8:00 a.m. - Arrive at work; often the first one there.
10:30 a.m. - Pumping break (usually 15 minutes).
1:00 p.m. - Go home for lunch break. Fix something quick to eat, then try to get some baby-related tasks done, like folding laundry, starting laundry, replenishing diaper supply, adding more wipes to the container, washing bottles, etc.
3:30 p.m. - Pumping break (usually 15 minutes).
5:00 p.m. - Leave work.
5:05 p.m. - Arrive at daycare to pick up Baby B. Chat with teacher and ask how things went during the day.
5:20 p.m. - Arrive home. Change Baby B's diaper and possibly her clothes. Boil water for bedtime formula bottle so it has time to cool before feeding.
5:30 p.m. - Play with Baby B, usually on a blanket on the floor, practicing rolling over both ways and sitting up and standing.
6:00 p.m. - Nurse Baby B for 20 or 25 minutes. Sometimes both of us doze off briefly after the feeding. The Husband starts making dinner during the feeding and also starts washing some bottles and dishes.
6:40 p.m. - Eat dinner.
7:00 p.m. - Play with Baby B and/or go for a walk with the whole family.
7:15 p.m. - Bath time (if it's a bath night). If it's not a bath night, then the playing continues. Sometimes it's storytime.
7:30 p.m. - The Husband takes care of Baby B by putting her diaper on, getting her dressed, and making sure she stays calm after her bath. During this time, I prepare the formula bottle.
7:40 p.m. - The Husband and Baby B sit down in the recliner and I bring them the bottle and he feeds her. During this time, I go to the kitchen and make bottles for the next day, wash empty bottles, and usually clean up from dinner. I then fill the tank to the humidifier in her room.
8:15 p.m. - The Husband performs the final diaper check and puts a sleeper on Baby B. He cradles her in his arms and walks the length of the house a few times in order to get her to the point of being drowsy but still awake.
8:20 p.m. - The Husband puts Baby B in her crib, turns on the crib aquarium and her mobile, and leaves the room. She's usually completely zonked out within minutes.
8:30 p.m. - Finally a chance to check e-mail, check my parenting message boards, pay bills, do baby laundry, and prepare things for the next day's dinner if possible (even if it's just taking something out of the freezer). Take a bath if there's time. Sometimes plead for a backrub.
9:45 p.m. - Pump both sides one last time before going to bed.
11 p.m. (ideally) - Go to bed.

Encore!

For Baby B's encore to rolling from back to tummy last night, she did it the other way tonight--from belly to back! This time I really wasn't expecting it, as she virtually launched herself over with a big, sudden kick from those strong legs. Two nights in a row and two big milestones. At this rate, she'll be walking and talking by the end of the weekend. She's very advanced, you know. ;)

(On a sort of related note, I love to ask Baby B ridiculous questions all the time. One of my favorites is, "So when are you going to start talking, anyway? We're waiting!" Okay, maybe you just have to be there to hear how it comes out.)