This Was The Year That Was

Holy crap, what a ride 2009 has been. I find that when I look back each New Year's Eve, there tends to be a theme to the year that may or may not have been apparent while it was happening. This year's theme? 2009: The Quest For Sleep.

When it began, I was sleeping for none and Rob was sleeping for 3. Two weeks later we were both sleeping on eggshells. In the subsequent months, we came to realize that at some point we would need to sleep more than 3 hours at a time (or total) in the night. So we consulted our team of experts and learned how to Train Our Child How To Sleep. It involved a really awful week of being awakened around 1AM, checking to make sure there was Nothing Actually Wrong, and letting her learn how to get herself back to sleep, all the while checking on her in 2 minutes, then 5 minutes, then 10, then 20, then 40, then (one awful, exhausting night) another 40. The theory is that the baby will figure out that it's OK to go back to sleep. And after a few days, it worked.

So now we gauge how we're all doing by whether or not Ava sleeps through the night. Whenever something is up, she evidently needs our undivided attention, which is most easily accessible between the hours of 1 and 4:30AM. This is when we learn about teeth, fevers, rashes, and various other potential unpleasantries. We find that the helplessness we feel at not knowing what to do about whatever is going on is compounded nicely by not being able to call anyone for help because it's the middle of the night.

Sleep begets sleep, we've found. When she has a good nap during the day, there's better sleep at night for all of us. And that's our year.

Happy New Year from Las Vegas. We won't make it to midnight--Ava's down by 9:00, and we'll wear out long before the tape-delayed ball drops on the west coast. But that's OK. Because a good night's sleep beats the crap out of Ryan Seacrest and the Black-Eyed Peas.

Whoever invents these toys is my hero.

Watch, as Ava amuses herself for six entire minutes.




Awesome.

Earlier tonight, we watched Cinderella together. She danced to the Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo song and clapped when it was over.

Oh hey look, on Christmas Eve at my dad's house? She climbed the steps.




Such a big girl!

Christmas Wrap-up (Get it? Christmas? Wrap? That's a joke, son)

So it wasn't too crazy.  I think she's still too young to really lose her mind over Christmas.  We're still at the point where everything is still so we can get pictures of her doing stuff rather than her being aware of what's happening.  But it was awesome.  There was no wistful wishing for what comes next, no drama, nothing that took the focus away from Ava's First Christmas.  It was magical.

We had Christmas Eve with Grams&Gramps, and Ava got her first baby doll (awww...).

And then Christmas Day we were at home.  And we had the perfect Christmas morning.  Seriously.  I was sitting there, watching her surrounded by her new toys...

...in her monkey pajamas, thinking that this? is perfect.

We did learn a few things for next year:

1. Take the stupid presents out of the stupid packaging before you wrap them.  This was OK for her this year, but next year when she KNOWS that it's HER PRESENT, I doubt she'll be very patient about waiting for Mama and Daddy to untwist 17 twisties so as to release each component of a 43 piece set.
2. There is no drive too long to go see a cool Christmas Lights display.  Sometimes the search for a house we've heard about that has amazing lights and music is part of the fun, and it's always worth it.  
   
3. Grams's loaner Christmas tree is pre-lit, and fits perfectly on the table.  Festive?  Check.  Lovely?  Check.  Entirely out of reach from small grabby hands?  CHECK.

So it was wonderful.  And our friends had wonderful Christmases too.  There's a lot of joy in this world right now, and we're very thankful to be a part of it.

Baby's First Christmas

Merry Christmas from Rob, Kristie and Ava!

She had quite a haul, pictures and film will be up shortly.  We're watching Christmas movies and dinner is already in the oven (ribs YUM).  Best. Christmas. Ever.

We have words!

There is much rejoicing, as Ava's first words were not related in any way to the 90 minutes a day we spend in the car together and the morons with whom we share the roads!

Ball.  She said ball.  Actually, she said "baw", but she was pointing at a ball when she said it, so it counts.  Because it's close enough, and she meant what she said.  She was talking about that ball, right there.  So, as you can plainly and unmistakeably see (because you just said "baw" out loud to test weather it qualifies as "ball"), a word was spoken.

We also hear Mama and Dada a lot.  And they're not just random sounds anymore.  When she says them, she looks for us.  When she hears Rob talk from the other room, she says "Dada" and squeals. And it's adorable.

Smartest. baby. ever.

We? Are in trouble.

So today about 10:30, Daycare Lady calls me at work.  It seems Ava got a bit tangled up in a toy bin while she was reaching for The Toy That Was Furthest From Her.  When they attempted to extricate her she kind of, well, lost her mind.  We hadn't seen Hulk Baby for a while.   Things have been pretty uneventful.  We're back on a fairly regular sleep schedule that actually involves everybody getting some sleep.  We were lulled into a false sense of security.  We got cocky.

So today, when the batphone rang, it kind of caught me off guard.

She's OK.  Daycare lady called just to let me know that Something had happened, but there didn't seem to be any lingering effects.  She calmed down after maybe 10 minutes (with the help of a bottle and some Cheerios).  She had her normal nap and lunch and snack.  She was a little edgy for the rest of the day, though.  At pick-up, I picked my first battle: Ava doesn't want the coat? Ava does not have to wear the coat.  All righty then.

In the past 11 months (precisely 11 months, in fact...) I have worried about many things where Ava is concerned.  Today, I worry that my kid is going to handle anger and frustration in much the same way as I do.  That is, she's going to explode like a grenade as her first reaction, and when that passes, and it will pass quickly, she'll be over it, she'll be fine, and everyone around her will be like "what the hell was that?!".  I want to make sure she learns how to handle stuff like that in a way that doesn't alienate everyone and perhaps trigger a semi-negative component to a performance review at her job (don't ask.). 

Or, maybe, she's just a toddler and we just have to suck it up for a few years.  It could also be that.

So 11 months ago, to the minute, I had a contraction.  I didn't know it was a contraction.  I thought it was my dinner settling.  Dinner on January 11, 2009, was In & Out Burger, which I am convinced is what put me into labor.  So at 9:30 PM that night, I stood up and stretched and felt something ODD.  Like I was being stabbed by my burger (double-double with onions).  And then nothing happened for probably an hour.  And then everything happened all at once.

It's been 11 months of astonishment.  We know Ava pretty well now.  But she's changing so quickly that sometimes we don't keep up like we should.  I looked at her the other day, and she's not a chubby little baby anymore.  She's a (still somewhat chubby but less so) little girl.  She's about to take off walking (OMG we are doomed) and one day soon the babbling is going to pause and she's going to say a word and mean what that word means (hopefully it's not something she picked up whilst riding with me...).

Thanksgiving 2009

We had a wonderful time in San Diego with Rob's family. AJ, UK, and BA made sure that Ava's first Thanksgiving was just magical. They even put up a Christmas tree and had a present ready for her (thank-you note is forthcoming...).


Such a fuss! They went all out, as they usually do, and we can't thank them enough for spending so much time with us throughout the week.

I'd also like to give up a shout-out to Hampton Inn for their almost entirely childproof rooms and the fact that the coffee table is the exact length of the distance between the bed and the dresser. We had a little Ava Corral that helped us all keep our sanity :)

We also had a little fun with giggling.



Surprisingly, this was after a Night Of No Sleep and a Day of No Naps. OMG we were exhausted, all of us. I think part of the laughter is just out of delirium.
Friday we went to Birch Aquarium at Scripps in La Jolla. Ava likes watching fish when they're on Discovery Channel, so we figured she'd really be into watching actual fish. She loved it! Even though it was crowded, we had a great time watching her watch everything else.

She got eaten by a shark...

And she giggled quite a bit more...


We have so much to be thankful for. It sounds kind of cliche', but Ava has made our lives amazing. Every day is an adventure that we are thrilled to share with our families and friends. We're SO excited for Christmas, and we're starting to plan a birthday party (shhhh..... don't tell her! It's a surprise!).

'Twas The Month Before Christmas

It's been a little hectic.

To recap, with bullet points...

• It wasn't a tooth; it was roseola. Roseola is a stupid illness.
  
• Her gastronomic repertoire of solid food consists of sausage, pancakes, quesadillas, string cheese, rice, honeydew melon, tilapia, chicken (grilled, baked, fried, and nuggeted), bananas, cheerios, peas, fish sticks (but she's not a gay fish, and if you don't get this, you don't watch South Park), soft tacos, bean burritos, spaghetti & meatballs, ravioli, and just about anything else we can cut up small enough for her to feed to herself
  
• Twenty-one pounds, nine ounces,
• First haircut happened and, no, I didn't save it. It was just a trim of a strand that was hanging in her eyes.
• The crawling is out of control, and she is officially faster than we are.
• She really doesn't like people. If you're not me, Rob, Grams & Gramps after about 20 minutes, or any of the Daycare Ladies, don't get too close.
  

I think that's it.

Last night, we went to the opening night of the Opportunity Village Magical Forest. We figured it wouldn't be too busy (see above RE: don't get too close...) and it wasn't too chilly outside. Grams & Gramps were there too, and I'm so glad they came with us. Ava got her first taste of Christmas. She saw Santa in his sleigh with his reindeer and 4 showgirls in elf suits (hey, it's Vegas, whatever) and her first Christmas tree, 40 feet tall, covered in lights and all twinkly. She saw all the things that make Christmas look like Christmas. And she loved it.

One of the attractions is a train, and we thought she might like it. She likes to look at stuff and at people (as long as they don't get too close...). I think it was a success :)




How cute is that! We had so much fun! Toward the end of the night, she even smiled at people she didn't even know. Her heart grew three sizes that night!


So now our quest is to find any Christmas light display that we can find and show it to her.

Tuesday we're driving to San Diego for Thanksgiving. Ava will have her first turkey and mashed potatoes (we have rubber bibs locked and loaded) and we're looking forward to getting out of town and seeing the folks. Safe travels and Happy Turkey to all!

If This Happens For Every Tooth, I'm Going To Need A Bigger Wine Fridge.

This is going to be a terribly interesting summary of Ava's first fever, which will also serve the purpose of reminding me about what to do when future fevers happen. Blog = baby book.

So Friday morning we got up and Ava was warm. Rob noticed it first. We took her temperature and it was 98.5 under her arm which means her core temperature (I just learned this phrase, thank you Auntie Nurse Amy) was 99.5. She usually runs about 2 degrees cooler, so we knew something was up. She didn't sleep worth a damn last week, so between that and a higher temperature, we figured it was teeth. When her bottom teeth came in over the summer, she ran a little warmer than usual.

At 4:00 Daycare Lady called me at work. We were on deck to take advantage of a delightful thing they occasionally do at Daycare called Parents Night Out, where they host a slumber party and watch movies until 10:30. Their threshold for Calling Parents and Sending Children Home is 101 degrees, and Ava hit it. OMG. So I wrapped up the week, shut stuff down, and picked her up a little early. I walk in, and they all look at me like "There's Little Miss CrankyPants's mom now." Evidently she spent the day glaring at everyone. Parents Night Out (a nice relaxing sushi dinner, in our case) was abruptly cancelled.

Over the course of the weekend, Ava's temperature steadily rose. I got some great advice from the aforementioned Nurse Amy, and another BFF called to give some fantastic info about fevers and Baby Tylenol (a freaking miracle drug...) and between the two of them, we felt pretty confident about what to look for and when to start calling doctors or running to the ER.

Saturday sucked. She just flat didn't feel good. Poor little boopy, she tried to play but quickly realized that she preferred to sit quietly and cuddle. This was alarming. Saturday night she woke up at 3 and the thermometer stopped at 101.9 which adding one for armpit (even simple math at 3AM was very trying--I'm going to put a sticky on the thermometer that says "just add 1"). Had it hit 102 (meaning 103...) that's when you call doctors or run to the ER. But it stayed at 101.9. She didn't have any other symptoms, either. Just a freakishly high Fever Of Unknown Origin (OMG DO NOT LET ME GO ON WEBMD AT 3AM). We could feel the heat radiating from her poor little head. It was awful.

Today she was better. No fever at all since we got up this morning. She just went to bed, and is a nice cool 97.5 (oh just do the freaking math...). So we're all better, and very optimistic about getting some sleep tonight.

Last night (it counts as "last night" rather than "this morning" because I did go back to bed after she went to sleep) I suddenly felt like a mom. As upset, uncomfortable, unhappy, and generally pissed of she was, she held on to me because Mama Makes it Better. There wasn't a lot I could do about the fever, but she didn't care. She couldn't rest in the crib, but she calmed down and was able to fall (and stay) asleep in my lap. She was holding on to me with one hot little hand, and holding on to the binky with the other. Mama and Binky. We're a good team.

She's OK now. I'm still taking her temperature at every diaper change, but she's cool to the touch. And it's weird--suddenly, I can tell if she's got a fever just by putting my hand on her head. I've always wondered How They Do That. And I still don't know. But now I can do that too. Because I'm the mama, and Mama Makes It Better.

Oh and that freaking tooth better be the best goddamn tooth ever to break through a gum when it ever shows up.

R2D2

Ava's favorite uncles Mike and Clay loaned us R2D2 to help us complete her inaugural Halloween costume theme. He is a functioning voice-activated robot droid thingy, and he'll do what you tell him to do if you know what to say. He beeps and pings and rolls forward and back, and when Ava knocks him over he makes this farty sound that cracks Ava up.

:)

Halloween 2009

The Force is strong in this one.


Halloween turned out to be pretty uneventful, which turned out to be OK with us. Our trick-or-treating plans fell through so we went over to Dad&Florence's for pizza and then came home and went to bed. It seems that two of us are too old and one of us is too young to really get into Halloween right now. We'll try again next year.

Ava had her 9 month check up a couple of weeks ago. She's 21 pounds, 27 inches, and is growing just like she should. She's all over the place, so when she's awake, we are generally involved in some sort of surveillance and pursuit. She did get a flu shot, but the H1N1 shot is elusive. I don't know that we'll have the opportunity to get that for her, and I'm not too thrilled about that. I'm a big believer in vaccines, and while I'd be unhappy if I got H1N1 myself, I'd be devastated if she came down with it. We're being super careful about handwashing and basic hygiene--that's generally a good way to avoid getting sick. Daycare sanitizes everything every day in her classroom, and they keep the little kids away from the bigger kids, so we're hoping that helps her stay safe. Ugh. I'll be glad when this flu season is behind us.

She eats what we eat, and I love that. This morning, we all sat down to breakfast and we all had pancakes and sausage. She can feed herself--I think she prefers to, actually. So whatever we're eating, we break it up into little bits and put it on her tray. She takes it from there

The holiday season is officially upon us, I suppose. This year, she's mostly indifferent to anything that doesn't directly happen to her, so anything we do, we do for our benefit and for the purposes of pictures. So we weren't too upset when we ended up being home early last night. We'll be in San Diego for Thanksgiving and home for Christmas. And I think we're going to keep it all as low-key as we can for as long as we can. Next year, all bets are off.

Top Ten Things I Say To Ava Over and Over Every Day

1. Whatcha doing Boopy?
2. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeere's the baby? THERE SHE IS.
3. LALALALALALALALA (repeat ad nauseum)
   
4. Boop boop boop
5. What do you see? Do you see the sky (or cars or people or clouds or trees)
   
6. The Itsy-Bitsy spider went up the water spout...
7. MMMmmmm tasty sock
   
8. Nom nom nom apples!
9. USE YOUR DAMN TURN SIGNAL!!! (actually, this one is not so much to her, per se, but she hears it a lot in the car and there's a good chance it will be her first full sentence)
10. Are you ready to play?

Pumpkin Patches Are Disgusting Places

We went to Gilcrease Orchard yesterday because I was all geeked out about getting a super cute picture of Ava sitting among a bunch of pumpkins and autumn-type stuff. Right. So it's like 85 degrees and 2% humidity so it's all hot and dusty and rather disappointing. And the place was a zoo, both literally and figuratively. Literally, in that they have chickens and turkeys and this poor sad pony with its tail and mane dyed bright orange (envision the Vegas holiday version of a Tijuana Zonkey) that was schlepping ill-mannered children around a pen. Figuratively, in that it was packed with the aforementioned ill-mannered children and their equally ill-mannered parents and they were handling the pumpkins after wiping their noses (and God only knows what else) and eating what passes for autumn-themed food here (what the hell are "pumpkin chips"?). We were in and out in probably 10 minutes, sans picture. Ugh. We may try again but maybe not. It was not fun and I think we've decided that we're not going to kill ourselves just to orchestrate minor holiday pictures.

So what about other holidays? Are we going to do Crying Baby With Santa? Easter Bunny? Are there more holidays with people dressed up who are waiting for me to bring my poor unsuspecting child to them so I can plop her on their laps and hope she doesn't freak out before they get a picture that doesn't end up here?

Jeez.

Our jury is still out on the whole Santa Picture thing. I've always thought that the Easter bunny costumes are scary, so there's really no question of that picture ever happening. But Santa troubles me. I hate to miss out on it entirely, because they can be such amazing pictures. I hear tales of the Perfect Santa at this mall or that and I want to at least try it, and then I watch movies like Bad Santa (OMG this movie kills me...) and A Christmas Story (HO HO HO) and I just don't know.

Holidays are stressful indeed.

The Ava Workout

Quick tempo, maybe 160 beats per minute. GO!

And 1 and 2 and don't forget to breathe and pick her up and move her over and move the toys and check to see if she has a fist full of dog hair and check the dog to make sure she's not pissed or sporting a new bald spot and bend and lift and twist and release and move the cup and get the phone and call them back later and pick her up and move her over and find the remote to turn down the damn TV and change a diaper and make a bottle and set up the high chair (because lord knows we can't leave it set up all the time anymore) and heat some apples and feed and wipe and feed and wipe and put her in her crib with a binky and rest for 90 minutes.

Repeat 3 times, for 2 hours at a time.

We will pay you ONE MEEEEEEEELLION DOLLARS...

...to come over and effectively childproof our house.

Thank you and good day.

Battlestations! Red Alert!

It begins.



Busy, isn't she? She's spent the last 8 1/2 months looking at everything in the world and soaking it all in, and now she's going to go check it out.

She's pretty cute, too, huh?

The past couple of weeks have been kind of crazy. The whole work/home balance thing is bigger than we thought it would be. Some days, I wish we could narrow it down to just the Rock and the Hard Place. But, this is the business we have chosen. Not all of it is going to be perfect, but we're managing.

Last week was Parents Night at Daycare. They said it was going to be an opportunity for the parents and teachers to get together to discuss curriculum and transitions. Since we didn't know what any of that meant, we eagerly attended :). And we learned a lot. Evidently, curriculum exists even at the infant level. Every day, Ava learns stuff and not much of it is accidental. She learns how to interact socially because she spends her day playing with other babies who are all at different stages. She's about in the middle, as far as development goes. So she's been watching babies hit their own milestones (this is Daycare's language, but it makes sense) and that apparently inspires her to reach her own. Hence the crawling and clapping.

"Transitions" means "when do we move Ava to the next room". It's not based on age; rather it's determined by development. Some one-year-olds are running around like monkeys while others aren't quite there. They told us what she needs to be doing before putting her in the Toddler Room. Long story short, she needs to be walking steadily and be drinking from a sippy cup instead of a bottle. In the Toddler Room (it sounds important so I'll capitalize it) they all nap at the same time. They eat together, family style, and they learn how to use utensils and serve themselves and share blah blah blah.

Honestly, it sounds like a prime opportunity for food fights and chaos, but they know what they're doing so we're not going to argue too much until we see it for ourselves. If it works, everybody wins.

That's about it. It's cooling off (yay for the end of oppressive heat!) so there will be more evening walks and meals on the patio. We're looking forward to the holidays--I already have her Halloween costume. She's going to be Princess Leia. The Force is strong in this one, you know.

She has interesting musical tastes.

Yeah, given the fact that her father is a dyed-in-the-wool easy listener and I'm the queen of 80s top 40 pop radio, it shouldn't be such a shocker. The song that makes her the happiest? Rosie the Stripper.

The Stripper - Joe Loss

Awesome.

But now, thanks to Rosie the Stripper, we have proof of her teeth, because when I sing the song to her, she laughs.



We're all very proud.

Teeth Are A Pain In The Patootie.

Well, you know what I mean.

Ava has 2 teeth. We're working on getting pictures, but she's sneaky and not very forthcoming with Big Smiles when we have camera in hand. They're on the bottom, in front. She plays with them with her tongue quite a bit, which is super cute. Her sleep has been off for a while, so I asked some experts (i.e. Moms Who Have Been Here Before) what could be causing that. Everyone said teeth were coming and boy, were they right. I'm sure it's not news to most of the universe, but jeez, teething sucks.

She hurts, poor little boopy, and we don't want to get her hooked on painkillers yet (how many droppers of Baby Tylenol does it take to make a junkie? Let me know...) but we don't want her to hurt more than is absolutely necessary (or at all). So we have a freezer full of frozen teethers, which she loves, and Daycare Lady told us about these marvelous little things called Teething Tablets that seem to help. I don't know what's in them. They're homeopathic, which means they probably contain ground-up rhinoceros horn and moose dust and God only knows what else, but she sees us coming with the bottle in our hands and she opens her mouth like a good little princess and she takes them with not a lot of drama.

That's really all that's going on. Her sleep is all jacked up and therefore ours is too. Night before last, she woke up and I slept through it and Rob evidently sleepwalked to her room, got her out of the crib, gave her a binky, and then he woke up in the rocker holding her. So that's not good. We're a little tired. But she's still amazing and wonderful. She's starting to babble more, and her favorite word (I'll call it a word because I'm mom and what I say goes...) is Mamamamamama and I love hearing that :).

True Mom Confessions Can Bite Me.

I'm a semi-regular reader of this great blog--Motherhood Is Not For Wimps--and she just had a post where she made her own confessions and called for the confessions of other moms. A year ago, I would have been horrified by some of them. What kind of person doesn't change sheets regularly?! Cobwebs are an abomination! Etc...

Seven months in, I have a few of my own.

• The guilt I felt about going back to work and putting Ava in daycare was balanced by an equal amount of relief. Three months of staying home and being at her beck and call was exhausting. Work was, and often still is, like a mini-vacation. I have come to see the 4 Daycare Ladies as my colleagues. They are an integral part of the village that it takes to raise Ava.
• That said, the best part of my day is invariably the moment where I walk into her classroom and she sees me and literally drops what she's doing and smiles.
  
• Rob does a disproportionate amount of late night feedings and dirty diaper changes (sometimes simultaneously). I'm aware of it, and once he sees this admission I'll likely never hear the end of it.
• I keep the house clean at the expense of getting sleep. After some serious reflecting about this, I've come to realize that it's my way of ensuring that even though I'm a mom now, and my priorities don't come first, I'm still in here. I like a clean house, dammit, and therefore the house will be as clean as I can keep it.
• When people tell me how cute/happy/wonderful Ava is, I get all gracious and humble, when what I really want to say is "Yeah, I know."

There are a ton more, but these came to mind first.

It is interesting that revelations like mine (and those on that other blog) are presented as "confessions", rather than "this is how our family functions; deal with it". When did it become necessary to put on a show and make it seem like we're in complete control with little effort? I'm reminded of an email I received from my friend Amy (hi Amy!) near the end of my pregnancy. I've known Amy since 6th grade. There aren't a lot of secrets or surprises between us anymore. So this email that I received on January 6, a day after my due date and 4 days after another friend had just given birth and I was so jealous and tired and sore and BLAH... this email that so very nicely praised how well I was handling the home stretch of pregnancy and how zen I sounded, triggered something in me, and my reply was this total stream-of-consciousness spew of wrath that GOD I would have loved to post here but it probably would have raised eyebrows and inspired some well-intentioned but poorly-received advice.

What stopped me from writing about how tired and scared and sore I was? Why couldn't I be honest here about how irritating the teasing and questions (jeez, people, my cervix is NONE of your business) were getting? Why should we be embarrassed when we talk about how hard this is and how sometimes it's vitally important to keep a little bit of ourselves in the spotlight.

I've mentioned that I'm part of an online community. The original topic that brought us together is not related to pregnancy or childrearing, but that's the most common bond. Recently, another new mom and I were discussing how hard the first weeks are, and how sometimes you just feel alone because after the first couple of weeks, people stop bringing food over and gushing and visiting and suddenly you're on your own and it's fucking terrifying (it's my blog, I can use the F-word once in a while). Within a few minutes, others joined in, echoing the sentiment of "why don't we tell other soon-to-be moms this?!" Why is it so hard to admit that it's a struggle? Why is there this feeling of needing to defend the decisions we make and when we finally own them, why do we have to call them "confessions"?

Dammit, we're doing the best we can. All of us. Any day that ends with your whole family going to bed in one piece is a victory, and anyone who says "Oh, you stay at home? Really? Hmm..." can piss off. Anyone who says "How long did you try to breastfeed?" can just blow it out their asses. Everyone we see is fighting some kind of battle, and nobody has the right to make anyone feel like they have to defend their strategy.

Blog As Baby Book

I have one of those baby books that you're supposed to update with pictures and milestones. It's been on the shelf since mid-March. This has become the official record of Ava's development.

Milestones that seem to be happening all at once:

• Today a tooth broke the surface. Bottom left front. Pictures will hopefully follow, but she's tricky so we haven't caught a shot yet.
• She is moments away from crawling. She'll get on two arms and a leg but one leg is in the wrong place and she can't quite maneuver around it. But it's close.
• Last week I was sitting on the floor with her. She took both my hands and pulled herself up to a standing position. This freaked us out completely
• Right now? She's clapping. For no reason other than it makes her happy
• She likes watching people wave, and sometimes she waves back

Big things are coming.

The Sponge Migration

You've seen it on Discovery Channel when they show the ocean floor--these creatures that seem completely stationary actually do move, but they have to use time-lapse photography to show it. So they set a camera up and film for 8 hours and then they speed it up and it looks like rush hour. This is what we have going on in our living room.

Ava is not crawling. She never was too thrilled about "tummy time", which is what all the Advice Givers tell you that is THE MOST IMPORTANT THING YOU CAN DO FOR YOUR BABY'S DEVELOPMENT because it forces babies to learn to push up off the floor with their arms. Yeah, we hate that here. But she does love to sit and play with her toys. We plop her down on the floor and put some toys within reach, or just out of it, and she will amuse herself for half an hour. She doesn't topple over very often anymore. She'll just sit and play and talk to us and to herself and to her toys and everybody's happy.

This week I noticed that she wasn't where I put her. She was in the same position, but instead of being next to her playmat, she was 3 feet away playing with the fishbowl that Auntie Beth gave her (she loves it!). And then 15 minutes later, she was next to the Jungle Thingy with the spinning balls but she didn't creep over, she didn't roll. I don't know how she moves.






She just kind of rotates and reaches for something and when she sits back up she's a foot away. I don't know how she does it. We lack the technology (and patience) to do time lapse, and if our video camera can speed up I don't know how to do it. But she moves. I don't know how she moves, but she moves and it's FREAKING ME OUT.

In a related story, we're going to start childproofing the house this weekend. Because if she's this sneaky at 7 months (holy crap, 7 months!) we are totally screwed once she can get up and walk around.

Hot Town, Summer In The City

On Sunday, we were at Bob&Katie's to celebrate their son's 9th birthday. He was the first baby born in our circle of friends, and we often marvel at how hard it must have been to be the first parents out of all of us. I don't know what we'd do if we didn't have the wisdom and support of our close friends who have done this before.

Ava wore a fancy dress and had a lovely time :)


She spent the afternoon watching the kids run around. She watched the grandmothers sit and chat. She watches everything. She's always craning her neck, looking around, taking it all in. Daycare Lady told me that sometimes, she's so tired and just barely awake, but she keeps one eye open so she can see what the other babies are doing.

We're going to skip town this weekend and head back up to the cabin to get out of the heat. August in Las Vegas is not for the faint of heart!

Perhaps The Answer Is More Obvious Than That

There have been times in the past 6 months where we proceeded with much fanfare and confidence in an entirely incorrect direction. Early on, we tried to stop hysterical, purple-faced crying with a binky and a 3AM car ride, under the auspices of "She's tired, and this will soothe her." The appropriate solution to such a situation was, in fact, feeding her.

And then we had a terrible issue with "How are we going to keep her from getting spit-up all over her clothes and causing a rash if we don't change her quickly enough?" Yeah. That's what bibs are for, genius.

The most recent example of the view of the trees being blocked by the forest is in the previous post regarding orange food. Ava did not sleep on two days when she ate orange food. Ava hates orange food! No more orange food! Hooray!



I'm reminded of a scene from one of my favorite movies:



Orange food is like the cans. Ava is the guy with the gun. And we're Navin Johnson.

Hey, Einstein, maybe she's teething. Maybe the reason her sleep is changing is that she's 6-1/2 months old and her freaking teeth are coming in. Maybe her little mouth is starting to hurt because underneath the surface of her little gums ARE TEETH.

Oof.

In a related story, Baby Tylenol is a marvelous solution, allowing her to sleep, which allows us to sleep. And since sleep begets sleep, she is now back in the habit of sleeping through a big chunk of night. And so are we.

Rhymes with Orange

You know what rhymes with orange? No sleep. That's what rhymes with orange. As demonstrated in the following original biographical poem:

When Ava eats foods that are orange
There is no sleep.

She likes the orange foods. Yams? Good. Pumpkin? Gooooooood. But the night after eating orange food? NO SLEEP. Or, rather, lots of sleep, but in 17-minute increments and quite frankly we don't think that counts. AT ALL. This is why they tell you to introduce new foods to Baby one at a time and one new food every four days. So you know if something is causing a problem. So last week after yams, there was No Sleep. And the next day after we reviewed Ava's ups and downs (seriously, we do this: "How was her day? What did she eat? How much did she sleep?" we decided No More Yams for a while, because she was awake and gassy (don't ask). So yesterday I gave her some pumpkin and she loved it. Last night? NO SLEEP.

Orange foods contain vitamin A and beta carotene, and if babies eat a lot of these foods, there is evidently a chance that they will turn orange. Fortunately for us, there's no risk of that because we won't be eating any more orange food for a while. She likes the broccoli (I'm quite smug about this...) and the acorn squash (yeah) and we're still a big fan of bananas. Today, we may try some peaches. I also have some plums pureed and ready to eat, but they're a pretty significant shade of purple, and we need some time to recover from the havoc that orange hath wreaked on us before we move on to any other bold colors.

A Double Feature

Long overdue, I know.

We went to Utah for July 4th, and we had a mostly good time. There were some baby tummy issues (you do NOT want to know...) but she handled the altitude all right (10,000 feet above sea level) and we learned a few good lessons about traveling with a baby. The cabin is about 5 miles from a ski resort (Brian Head, to be specific) and we stayed at a condo there and visited Dad & Florence each day. It worked out, as the cabin had no running water, and running water is a key component of an Optimal Baby Environment.



I like hummingbirds, hence the inclusion of the hummingbird clip. It was a great weekend and we're hoping to get back up there soon. The last part (it went kind of Blair Witchy, didn't it, and I'm not so thrilled about that...) happened on the evening of the 4th. There was this huge fireworks show that happened right in front of our condo. It was crazy and we were freaking out because HI WE HAVE A SLEEPING BABY YOU MORONS but she slept right through it. Rock on, kid.

Our evening entertainment lately is all about The Ava Show. She's a funny kid and does cute little funny things.



That bouncy thing is about the best hundred bucks we'll ever spend. She. Loves. It. She still kicks her legs all the time, and she's all about being jostled and bumped around so it really is fun to watch her catch a bouncy wave and go to town.

We've started feeding her Real People Food, not just formula. My friend Tammy told me about a great website that is all about making your own baby food. It sounds kind of earthy-chunky-granola, but you can buy an entire acorn squash for the price of two jars of it prepared by a corporation with who knows what additives. And it's easy. Cut stuff into chunks, steam it, puree it, spoon it into an ice cube tray and freeze it. So far, we have done broccoli, the aforementioned acorn squash, and a yam. Broccoli seems to be kind of hit or miss (as it is for many of us), acorn squash seems to be pretty well received, but the yam? Oh she loves the yam. NOM NOM NOM YAM. She'll also chow down a third of a banana pretty easily for breakfast. My kid loves food. No shock there, huh? I really do love doing family dinners--we feed Ava while we eat and it's just cool :).

Ava had her six month check-up (and vaccinations because we don't want the Polio...). Little missy is 24 inches long and 17 pounds 9 ounces. She's grown almost 5 inches and she's gained 10 pounds, mostly in her cheeks and thighs. Very Wise Doctor seems pleased with her progress--she's still a little on the short side for her weight (runs in the family) but well within the normal range. We talked about her milestones: laughing, babbling, reaching, grabbing, sitting up unassisted. She's not so much into rolling over yet, and that's evidently an important precursor to the whole Crawling Thing, but I think we're close. We're about to start childproofing the house, mostly because we want to be ahead of the curve and if she does suddenly take off, we don't want to be running around the house with a drill like a couple of crazy handymen. Yeah. It's about to get fun.

More Kool-Aid, Please

I have joined a cult.

Anyone who knows me knows that I'm not a joiner. I'm not a people person. I don't like daily affirmations and I really get suspicious of anyone who is too enthusiastic about anything.

But my house was a mess. Not like on Clean Sweep, which I actually cannot even watch because it makes me angsty. It was more of a consistently piley cluttery step-over-stuffy sort of environment. And that stresses me out, especially when I'm carrying a baby in one hand and an armful of stuff in the other.

Enter the Flylady.

Flylady wants us to have a clean house. Not OCD clean. Not clean at the expense of your family's sanity and all your spare time clean. Flylady believes that if I spend 15 minutes a day tidying up and one hour a week with a vacuum and a duster, the house will become clean and stay clean.

Flylady emails me friendly reminders about things like "rebooting the laundry". Cute, huh? Rebooting it means that if it's not folded and put away, I need to get off my tuckus and move it one step closer to that status. Flylady wants the last thing I do every day to be a ritual Shining of my Sink. Not a metaphor. A shiny kitchen sink is the key to a clean house. Flylady wants me to sort the junkmail before it even gets inside the house so it doesn't pile up. Flylady wants me to set a timer for 15 minutes, walk into the Room of the Week, and, working clockwise (NEVER COUNTER-CLOCKWISE ONLY CLOCKWISE), I should hum a merry tune whilst "blessing my home" with cleanliness.

What pisses me off is that it works. Instead of spending a big chunk of time every evening stomping around with a Swiffer and clearing off the table (again) and getting frustrated with what doesn't get done, I spend less than half an hour focusing on whatever today's mission is and then I'm done.

I'll be damned if the house isn't clean and the laundry isn't folded and put away.

Sometimes she gets a bit Thankful To Our Lord, and the stuff she has for "WOHMs" (work outside-the home moms, as opposed to stay at home moms) is obviously attached as an afterthought, but I like that she advocates the creation of a system. Her methods require the creation and implementation of routines, and that makes me very happy. I love systems and routines like nobody's business.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go shine my stupid sink.

Angels On Earth And Up Above

There are things about being a parent that nothing can prepare you for. I mean, in the months preceding Ava's birth, we were inundated with advice. And a lot of it was useful. Like how one of my besties recommended Aquaphor for diaper rash issues. Best advice ever. And how someone said to take pictures of us holding the baby, not just of the baby. Awesome.

Nobody warned me about how time would slip away as it does. Ava and I get home around 6:15 and before I know it it's midnight and time to go to bed and hope that she sleeps through the night (she still does most nights) so that Rob and I can get 6 good hours of sleep before we start all over again.

Nobody warned me about how her milestones would affect me. One day a couple of months ago, it's like she just woke up and became this little person. She's aware of us, of herself, of her hands, of her feet, of the dog, of the world. Last weekend we were at the cabin (yeah, I know, pics and video will be up at some point) and Grams reached for her and she gave this big smile and opened her arms so wide and was so happy to be picked up. It was the first time she had done this, and while she'll do it a thousand times or more in her life, this felt so important. She didn't passively get passed around. She wanted to be where she was going.

Nobody warned me about how my heart would break when learning about a child drowning (or being found IN A FREAKING DUMPSTER OMG WORST STORY EVER) on the news. I get this cold, tangibly sharp fear that just courses through me for a second like a knife when I think of anything happening to Ava or any of my friends' kids or just about any kid at all.

Nobody warned me about how I would feel when learning about a friend's miscarriage. Oh, this was a bad week for that. I'm part of an online community, and this week, two of the ladies who I've gotten to know (there are probably a hundred total) lost their babies. One was 20 weeks along and it's not the first time it has happened to her and hearing that awful news was almost more than I could bear. If you have a minute, say a prayer for Alma and sweet baby Brooke.

Must. Lighten. Up.

Nobody warned me about how hard it would be to pull out the little clothes that once seemed so big on our little girl that are now too small for her and put them in storage to make room for the next size up. Ava is now 17-1/2 pounds, and in the 6-9 month sizes. For such a little punkin, she's awfully big :). Switching out the clothes forces us to see just how much she's grown--she's gained 10 pounds! Such a big girl :).

Nobody warned me about what it would be like to see my father holding my daughter and pointing out the things that he thinks are important for her to see. It's so funny to see him shift into Gramps mode.

I'm realizing that we all waited such a long time for Ava to join us, like we were in a holding pattern until she got here. We were just killing time, and now we're scrambling to slow it down.

Hit The Road, Jack!

So we went to San Diego last weekend. We left on Friday after work, and we'd had two nights of not-great sleep. I had some real anxiety about leaving town. I knew we'd be OK, but when we were almost to Barstow and the sun was going down, I felt completely out of my element. But the drive wasn't bad--Ava slept most of the way and we were going against traffic so it was pretty easy on all of us.

A video summary of the trip:



Saturday morning we went to Coronado and had lunch at the Del. It was a little rainy, but we did get to walk outside. They had an art exhibit on their courtyard--Dr. Seuss characters cast in bronze. Ava experienced her first Green Eggs and Ham :)


We went to the Padres game, and it was great until the Padres scored a couple of runs. We were sitting in the outfield bleachers, so when 40,000 people cheered, they were yelling directly at us.


We stayed until the top of the fourth. Ava had a good time until the screaming (she yelled right back at all those people...).

Sunday we had a great, relaxing day. We met one of my friends and her family for brunch at Wings & Things (YUM--beer & wings !) and then we went to Aunt Janice's for a Father's Day barbeque with Rob's family.

Monday, we had our Griswold moment. The San Diego County Fair is going on, and Rob really wanted to take us. I've never been to a big fair, but I know they have food so I'm a big fan of such things. We were pretty excited. So we plan our day around it, and we head towards the fairgrounds and there's no traffic. Cool! And we turn into the parking lot and it's nearly empty! Cool! We can park right up front!


And then we realize that maybe it's a little too empty. And then we see the sign:


They were closed. Sadly, there was no moose out front to tell us the news; we had to figure it out on our own. I thought it was pretty funny--Rob? Not so much.

So we went up the road to the beach, and I introduced Ava to the ocean.


She loved it. She likes to watch things that move (like the ceiling fan and the television) so this was a lot of fun!


It was a great trip! We have decided that we need to allow more time after we get back in order to recover--we drove back to town on Tuesday, and that was a really long day. We got home about 6:00 and we were all just exhausted. So there's our lesson.

Next weekend we're going up to Utah to see Grams & Gramps at the cabin. I spent a lot of time there when I was growing up, and while I didn't always love it up there (picture it: I'm 14 and all of my friends are having fun with each other all summer and I get to spend 3 month with no electricity and no phone and nobody to talk to except for my sister) I now see the value of having a place to go that's far enough away to be a vacation but close enough to be an easy run for a weekend.

Just a Fly-by

We had a great time in San Diego--more on that later when there's time to sort thru pics and video. We actually did have a Griswold moment :).

Daycare Lady just emailed me this picture of Ava that she took yesterday.


I KNOW. If there's anything more precious in this world than this child, I can't imagine what it could be.

The Swing Gets a Reprieve

Seriously, I was about to consign the damn thing. It's a perfectly good swing, but we don't have the space to just hang on to stuff that we aren't using. Ava has hated it almost without exception since the first time she was in it. So it lives in her closet and we have to climb around it to get to the stuff that lives behind it and it's a pain and I had just about had it. HAD IT.

This morning, however, it redeemed itself.




Ava had not yet had a nap this morning. On a normal day, she would have had 2 by now--one on the way to daycare, and one after her second bottle. But today? Nope. Usually when she's awake, she's happy. But today? Nope. It was kind of a long morning. In a moment of desperation, I pulled the swing out of the closet and put her in it, which she hates because it has a 5-point harness (I guess in case another swing gets up under her bumper and flips her over?) and so that was an extra burst of unhappiness. But then she got into it. She spent a good 30 minutes in the swing, much of it asleep, before she woke up, scored a fresh diaper and a bottle and then immediately went right back to sleep. She is currently sound asleep in her crib and all is right with the world.

The swing shall remain in our Repertoire of Desperate Acts In Times Of Shrieking, at least until she exceeds the weight limit.

Today is Rob's birthday. We're keeping it pretty low-key. We had a special dinner last night (Roberto's Taco Shop, featured frequently in the local Health Department weekly report of repeat offenders). We'll have family dinner and dessert today--Dad & Florence will come over, officially to celebrate the birthday but they're not fooling anybody and we all know that they really just want to see Ava all dressed up.

Next weekend is our first Big Road Trip. We're going to San Diego and I am SO EXCITED. I haven't been out of the city limits since freaking LABOR DAY and as fabulous as Fabulous Las Vegas is, I'm dying to leave it behind for a few days. We're driving down Friday after work and will be back on Tuesday. We're a little antsy about a 6 hour (with stops--anyone who knows me knows I could make it in 4 if it were just me...) road trip with a baby. I'm hoping it will be fantastic like when the Brady Bunch went to Hawaii (without the freaky cursed tiki thing that caused Greg to lose the surfing contest) and not a comedy of errors like the Griswolds. We'll see. If we land somewhere between Bradys and Griswolds, I'll be happy. We've got a lot planned--Ava's going to meet Great Aunt Janice and Uncle Ken, and she'll go to her first baseball game (I hear it's free hat night, so everybody wins even if the Padres don't), and we'll go to the beach and I think there will be quite a bit of aimlessly futzing around San Diego with no plan at all. Awesome.

Where's That Doggie?

Be sure to catch the action at the end. No animals were harmed in the filming of this picture.



Have a good weekend.

So what's Ava like, really?

Really? She's happy. She's a happy girl. She likes to look out windows and see the world and what people are doing. She doesn't sleep in the car as much as she used to, because she likes to look outside and talk to me and babble while we drive. She's a lot like this:




All the time.

She likes to sit up. She reaches for the things that look interesting to her, and she ignores the things that don't. She likes people and she looks them in the eye and she holds her gaze until somebody smiles (somebody always does) and then she smiles back with her whole face and the world lights up.

She's starting to laugh. Not full on baby giggles, but we're close. She has a very tickly belly, and when we tickle her she grunts and smiles and every now and then a little bubbly giggle comes out for just a moment.

She's growing so quickly. Clothes are sized by weight, and she's in the 3-6 month size, but she'll likely be out of them before she's 6 months old. She has tiny hands and feet--size 1 shoes are too big so she just doesn't wear shoes (much like the how the British Royals keep their heirs barefoot until they walk--we're just like them, only fewer tiaras are involved in our daily operations).

Ava has been in daycare for almost 8 weeks, and we made the right choice about them. Oh, they're wonderful. They take such good care of her. She has little friends and they smile when they see each other each morning. She's learning baby sign language--just the basics, no Unbearable Lightness of Being in our futures, but at some point before she talks, she may be able to tell us if she wants more of something (what if she wants less? I don't know. Hmm.). There are a few other signs that they said she'll learn and naturally I forgot what they are so hopefully they'll do a tutorial for parents. If not, please look for a video where she's gesturing madly and rolling her eyes at how her parents already don't understand her.

Rob and I are doing all right. Both our jobs occasionally (frequently...) tend to suck our souls so we're very happy about Ava's tendency to sleep through the night (YAY!) almost every night (still 11PM until 6:30AM God bless her) and her willingness to have a regular feeding schedule around which we can plan our own meals. We're unbelievably happy and lucky and not terribly tired and we try to stay in the moment while anxiously anticipating what's next.

How I Met Your Father

Dear Ava,

Today is your father's and my third wedding anniversary. I thought I'd tell you how we got started.

In 2003, I was working at UNLV at the front counter of admissions. It was my first job at the university, and I was glad to have it even though it sucked my soul every single day. The lady who sat next to me became a good friend, and I got to know her husband over time as well. They seemed nice (more on that later...).

One day, the lady said "My husband's company has a softball team, and they play every Friday night at the fields at the corner of Warm Springs & Eastern in Henderson. There's a guy he works with who seems really nice and I think you'd like him." This was in March. I remember this, because I couldn't go that week because I had concert tickets--Beastie Boys at House of Blues. I went with Jay&Tina, back when they were just Jay and Tina. I couldn't go the next week because it was your Aunt Katie's 30th birthday and a group of us went to a spa in Scottsdale for the weekend to celebrate.

So I had two very important reasons for not meeting your father until April 18.

But when I did go, I saw him. I remember it--he had nice legs. Still does. After the game, everybody went to a bar down the way for beers and wings. He sat on the end, and I was on his left. We talked a little. I don't think he knew it was a set-up necessarily. You know, just in case. When a girl introduces a girlfriend to a potential boyfriend, it's a good idea not to let him know that he's on the spot. We'll talk about this more when you're older.



Anyway, he left before I did. I gave one of his co-workers my number. That was Friday. He called within a couple of days. Our first date was to the Chicago Brewing Company on Fort Apache, and then we came back to my place and watched National Lampoon's Vacation. Seriously. That's what we did. That's how it all started.

Love,
Mama

Four Months Old

This was Ava's first picture, taken just over a year ago. My, how she's grown.

In spite of some really really long days and nights, we're always surprised to look at the calendar and realize that Ava's been with us for such a short time. Some quick stats, as of last week's well-check and vaccination extravaganza:

• 23 inches long, from a debut size of 19-1/2 inches
• 14 pounds 13 ounces, up from 7 pounds 8 ounces
• Important milestones include sitting up with minimal assistance, smiling, reaching for stuff and then holding on to it, almost rolling over, the discovery of her feet and the subsequent kicking of everything within a surprisingly large radius
• Establishment and implementation of a regular eating/sleeping schedule, which includes sleeping most nights from, get this, 10:30 or 11:00 PM until AFTER SIX AM. I'll say that again: Ava sleeps nearly eight hours at a time, and she does it at night, almost every night.

We take absolutely no credit for that last one. In talking to our Friends Who Have Kids, we've learned that this is quite unusual and we should expect some sort of retribution later on, perhaps when she learns to drive or becomes a Raiders fan (RAIDERS SUCK!). Right now? Yeah, she's asleep in her bouncy chair. Most nights, we wake her up for her last bottle between 9 and 11 and then she goes back to sleep, either in somebody's lap in the rocking chair, or on her own in her crib. We hit Baby Lotto with this kid, and we know it.

There's not a lot else going on. We're planning a trip to San Diego next month, and that will be our first family road trip. I'm estimating what four days worth of infant gear will look like, and what will be a good idea to pack (like the bouncy chair--yea or nay?) or overkill (play mat? boppy pillow?). I generally overpack as it is (for example, last year I went to NYC and Washington DC for just over a week for a conference and had an entire suitcase of just shoes...) so the car is likely to be loaded down pretty significantly. But we're looking forward to getting out of town--the last time I was away for more than an afternoon was Labor Day weekend. I'm needing a change of scenery, for sure.

This week is our anniversary. Three years, on Wednesday. We'll go out to dinner, and we'll have Ava with us. We generally keep it pretty low-key; usually just lunch at the golf course where we got married. We'll probably get up there in the next week or so. Last year on May 20, we had known I was pregnant for about 2 weeks, and I don't think we had told anybody yet (I may be wrong--it's kind of a blur). There was this undercurrent of excitement about the coming months. But really, we had no idea what we were in for. It's been amazing. And the next few months are going to fly by even more quickly than the last four have. We'll take as many pictures and videos as we can, because there is already stuff that she no longer does that I'm so glad we have a record of (like the nightly kicking before sleep no longer happens). It really does go so fast. We make a point of stopping and looking around because we don't want to miss it.

And now a word from our sponsors...

OK right over there ---> is a button that is my entry to win a super cute quilt, and if anyone clicks on it they can enter as well.

Seriously, how marvelous is that quilt!? Love it!

It's a day just for mothers. And that means me.

It's been a wonderful day. I'm blessed, and that's really all there is to it.

Ava's big gift to me was lots of sleep this weekend. Between her reasonable midnight-to-five sleep schedule, and Rob's willingness to take care of that first early bottle, I slept until almost 9 both days. Booyah.

And then this morning, I got up to open cards from one supercute daughter and one awesome husband. Evidently Ava also snuck out and procured a gorgeous azalea plant and a gift card to Dead Poet Books, a fantastic used/vintage bookstore that I drool over every time I drive past.

Here is evidence of her early morning subterfuge:




I'll teach her later about destroying all photographic evidence.

We went to breakfast at our neighborhood Jewish deli and it was really nice. I really like this place. As an added bonus in honor of the day, mothers received a free piece of breakfast cake. NOM NOM NOM DELICIOUS CAKE. That's one of the percs of being a grown-up: I can have cake for breakfast and ain't nobody gonna stop me.

I've decided that becoming a mom has been like joining a cult. In a good way, of course. But all of a sudden, the other cult members start conversations with me about Ava (how old is she, does she sleep, etc), about our family (is she our first, our last, our everything?), about my pregnancy (a week overdue? Goodness! I'm a trooper!) and stuff like that. I first noticed it at the pediatrician's office, when we were all sitting there with our infants discussing poop and breastmilk. It happens a lot. Today's cult meeting took place at breakfast, when the mom at the table next to us struck up a conversation involving her daughter (probably 2-1/2?) and how neat it is to have a first Mother's Day. And then our daughters met (well, hers met ours while ours slept peacefully...) and for just a few minutes, we were all part of the great Circle of Life.

After breakfast we visited Dad & Florence and had a lovely visit, dominated of course by Ava's babbly charm. Seriously, the kid chatters like a parrot and it's the sweetest sound I know. We've been getting the occasional giggle out of her as well, usually by taking advantage of her tickly belly. She freezes up when we turn on the video camera, but I'll get a shot of it eventually.

I'm so glad to be rediscovering holidays (even unofficial ones like Mother's Day, which, let's face it, was created and is promoted in order to sell greeting cards) that I've ignored for years. Rob and I have embarked upon this parenting thing with a clean slate--we're not going to carry over family drama and let any of it cast a shadow over Ava's future memories. As far as we're concerned, we're batting a thousand for joyous holidays.

We have a new feature over to the right --->. It's Ava's Playlist, which is going to be how I keep track of what we sing to her before she goes to sleep at night. Rob and I both know about a bajillion songs between the two of us, but we don't always remember the words at crunch time. So far, these are the ones that we knew off the top of our heads. We'll add more as time goes by.

Happy Mother's Day to my fellow cult-members, past, present and future.

Blah Blah Blah Pictures

Enough about me. Take a look at Ava!

Ava got to meet more grandparents this week! Doug and Toni came up for a quick visit.




Ava's first NFL draft. Everyone wore team colors :).



One of my good friends was pregnant at the same time I was. Darius was born 10 days before Ava (oh, I was so jealous for 10 days...) and here is where they finally met. Oh, the cute!



I keep trying to catch one of Ava's Big Smiles. I never time it right but I get some cute almost-smiles in the process. Here are a couple. If you look closely, you can see her little topknot (I need to get her in front of a lighter background). She's got this lock of hair right on top of her head that just won't lay flat. Ever.




I can't believe it's already May. It's going by so quickly. She's growing and is becoming this little person and we're so amazed by her every day. Her teachers at daycare just love her--she's low maintenance and happy most of the time. She's starting to reach for things that are in front of her (evidently a Very Significant Milestone) and recently became aware of the dog (who has been glaring at her for almost 4 months now--jealous much?).

Lazy Sunday starts.....NOW!

We Do The Best We Can With What We Have

I have time to blog at work (shhhhhh don't tell my boss) but I have pictures and video at home. I've been trying to somehow coordinate the two, but it's just not happening. I'll get pictures up later this week. Or next week, because it's already Thursday. Crap. I'm almost out of week.

I honestly thought I knew what it was to be busy. I had no idea. There's no way to predict just how much stuff would need to be crammed into a 24-hour period. My going back to work has really caused us to take a hard look at what is actually important--what really truly honestly needs to happen. The initial guilt of putting a Very Small Baby into full-time daycare was soon overshadowed by an overwhelming need to re-evaluate everything I do in the time spent away from her. One day, as I was looking at the picture I have of her on my desk, I just felt so sad. I didn't feel like what I was doing (probably playing Bejeweled on Facebook or reading Perez Hilton) was worthy of filling the time. I missed her so much, and in order make the time away from her count, I realized that I better damn well do my job the best way I know how.

It was like a lightning bolt. Because the reality of our situation is that we both work. Being sad about having to work and pissing away the time does not change that. Ava is not in daycare so as to allow me to watch the TV shows that I miss because I need to get some sleep.

My job is not my dream job--I'm not actually sure what my dream job would be. But I do like what I do. It's interesting. I meet so many fascinating people and I learn about different cultures and places. There is a lot of bureaucratic BS to cull through, but I like the part of my job that requires me to figure stuff out and break it down in a way that people who don't speak much English can figure out. Before, I came to work, I did my job, and went home and got on with my life.

It's different now. I'm on committees (well, one committee, but I've only been back a month; there are more committees forthcoming, I'm sure). I return phone calls (ugh, I hate voicemail) promptly. I take a more active role in the daily operations of my office and I actually contributed to the birthday fund instead of quietly avoiding the collection requests and tactfully refusing cake (most of the time...). I don't know if anybody has noticed, but I feel better for doing it. It makes the time spent away from that precious girl go faster, and I feel better about why I'm not with her all day every day.

It's after 5 now. I'm off to go pick her up and get a big squirmy gummy-grinned hug before we embark on the schlep home. Incidentally, the schlep home is less of an ordeal because of a carpool lane with a 2-person requirement--and a baby in a carseat? Totally counts as a second person.