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.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
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.
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.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
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.
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.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
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.
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)