Babies and Bagels (cont'd)

Here are some more pictures from Babypalooza:



If anyone wants any of these, let me know and I'll send you the originals.

Gotta go cheer for my Jayhawks!!

Babies and Bagels

We had the first, of I hope many, baby breakfasts yesterday. I have vowed that I will host one myself soon. Nicole, Ben's mommy (far right), was kind enough to have us all over. The rest of the babies are (from left to right): Will, Lucy, Will, and Kyleigh. It was great to spend time with my mommy friends and dish about all the crazy stuff we go through. Not to mention just nice to spend some time with the girls, something that doesn't seem to happen as often as I would like now that baby made three.

In a crazy turn of events, about half the people we know all had babies within a few months of us. Usually you only see that sort of thing after a blizzard or a blackout, but no babymaking weather phenomenon last winter, just amazing timing. Good for Sophie, she has lots of future playmates right about her age. Although the logistics of photographing six infants at the same time where none were crying or fussing or squirming seemed overwhelming, we did manage to get a few good group shots of the wee ones.

When Neil saw this picture he said, "who's that boy making time with our girl?" I love it because it looks like they're having individual conversations while we were getting ready to take their picture. I try to imagine what they might be talking about: diaper rash creams, the relative merits of the different diaper brands, room temperature vs chilled teething toys, maybe even the election or world peace. Ah, from the mouths of babes...

Open Mouth, Insert Everything

We've gotten to the point where EVERYTHING goes into Sophie's mouth. I had one of those idiot "aha" moments yesterday. After two days of changing her clothes three times a day and rubbing Desitin on a rash on her little chest, both the result of her constantly wet shirts, it finally dawned on me to put a bib on her. Up until now, I haven't had much use for any of her bibs, since she's still and exclusively getting her ale straight from the tap, but I'm calling them into service now. They serve two purposes: they give her something to chew on other than her shirt and they catch the copious amounts of drool that pour out of her mouth.

I have a feeling I won't be getting many pictures of the lower portion of her face for a while.

Which Way to Earth?

It must be pretty amazing to be in a world where your greatest discovery this week is your own feet. Sophie spends a lot of time with her right thumb (or whole hand) in her mouth and her other hand holding on to her left foot. I guess just making sure it's still there.

All right. I'm a bit of a sci-fi geek, but I know I'm not the only one who is crazy frakking excited about the return of Battlestar Gallactica tonight. Not to mention the opportunity to say frak all the time. The cliffhangers they left us with at the end of last season, A YEAR AGO, were pretty wild. Is Starbuck alive? Is she a cylon? And what about the four just revealed cylon models? And who is the last one? And does Baltar really think he's Jesus?

I have to admit that when they first announced they were doing a BSG reboot, I was not at all enthused. Pretty much every one of the old TV shows that have been made into new series or movies have been pretty bad. Witness: Starsky and Hutch, Bionic Woman, etc. However, I figured I would give it a go, because it was the Sci-Fi channel, which has some pretty good original programming (Oh, that Richard Dean Anderson). And now I am totally hooked. But they make us wait SOOOO long between seasons. If this show were even the tiniest bit less good, I would stop watching in protest.

Anyways, you know where we'll be tonight at 10pm(!).

Bathing Beauty

We had our second Mommy and Me swim class yesterday. So far Sophie has been a real trooper. She didn't cry at all during the first class and yesterday she only cried a little bit after I dunked her for the third time. She gave me "the pout" after the second dunk and I knew I was really pushing my luck with the third. But I'm a risk taker, what can I say, I had to go for lucky number three. Maybe next time she'll be okay with it. The instructor said that the hardest part for the mommies was having to watch our babies sputter and sometimes cry as they adjust to the water. Amen to that, sister. She is one of the youngest kids in the class and I was really proud at how well she took to the water. When older babies were crying, she just watched them like, "wusses." I was afraid that she would be traumatized from the first session and would be like the cats whenever I try to get them in their carriers, all four limbs spread out as we went through the door, but she was surprisingly calm. (Above photo: "Go ahead, make my day!")

And the good news is that most of the other mommies were not size 2s. I went shopping for a new swimsuit the other day and got one of those tankinis. Sounds like a yummy drink, doesn't it? First off, it was in a size that is painful to even think about, let alone say out loud. Aparna was like, "boy, don't you hope that's too big." And the answer to that is yes, and unfortunately, it wasn't. Now, I love the idea of the tankini, the coverage of a one piece with the convenience of a two piece. However, unless you have rock hard abs, which I don't...yet, the waistband pinches in and then you get the always attractive cinched in look. The tag said it was a "waist minimizer." As far as I can tell, the only part it minimized was under that one inch band of elastic. I've found that if I stick my chest out as far as it will go, it elongates my torso and somewhat eliminates this. Of course, I can't breath and I generally forget to hold it in about 10 seconds after I step away from a mirror, but I feel somewhat better about my appearance. Oh well, I'm hoping Sophie looked so cute (and doesn't she!!) that no one noticed my Un-gelina Jolie body.

Sexy Pig

I would like to add this to the Hall of Fame of Unusual Gifts. It sings a song and if you pull its tail, it squeals. Gomez hates it and beats up on it mercilessly. The pig is only slightly smaller than the cat, nonetheless, he carries it around the house by the ear or the scruff of its neck. The other day I approached the slightly ajar basement door as I heard a bumping sound. I stopped, trying to figure out what it was, and at that moment out came the pig, snout first, pushed by Gomez on his way to taking it upstairs. I later found it sitting, or more accurately, standing at the top of the stairs pointed towards Sophie's room. That was a tiny bit creepy, actually.

Notice my awesome tile job???

In Pursuit of the After Picture

I have a little work out routine that I do every day. It starts with 15 minutes on the step machine. Not exactly the fast track to that "after" picture I'm shooting for, but you have to start somewhere. I generally put Sophie in her little rocking chair about 5 feet away from me. Why, you might ask, don't I do this while she is sleeping. Because, I have to keep the stepper in our bedroom or I won't do it - out of sight, out of mind - and our bedroom is right next to Sophie's room. The stepper, despite being oiled, still makes a squeaking noise with each step and I like watching TV while I do it, so to be heard over the squeaking, the TV has to be pretty loud. Between the squeak, squeak, squeak and the roaring television, there's not much sleeping going on. So she gets to watch me every day. Lucky kid.

For a while the jingly bell and battery operated "Doggie in the Window" pull thingie on her chair will keep her occupied. However, almost every day she starts fussing somewhere around the 10 minute mark. This, of course, makes me anxious. So what do I do? I start going faster. As though I have a destination and if I go faster I will get there sooner. As her crying gets louder, I go even faster, pushing that little step machine to the limits of what it can do. By the end, I'm stepping like I'm being chased by a pack of wild dogs. The upside to this is that thanks to her the last 5 minutes of my step workout is CRAZY. The downside is that my head might explode.

Wild Kingdom

Watch her as she approaches her prey. You can see the determination in her eyes. These animals are experts at the chase. Notice how the prey plays dead to try to throw off its hunter.

Once she has trapped her prey, her jaws unhinge to accommodate it, as it is much larger than her mouth.

She uses her powerful jaw muscles to gradually work it in further and further. These animals eat their prey whole.

Sated, she takes a rest. She lays her head on the carcass to signal to others that this is her kill.

Lunchtime Observations

• Grilled cheese must be cut in twain to be truly enjoyed. And you must say, "cut in twain" while you're doing it.
• One slice of cheese is good, two slices, much better.
• Turning away for just a moment to make googely faces at baby makes a grilled cheese burn.
  
• A slightly burnt grilled cheese makes a lot of smoke.
• When eating a slightly burnt grilled cheese, burnt side up is best.
• String Cheese must be eaten in strings, somehow it doesn't taste as good in bites.
• Sophie starts crying after approximately three bites of a grilled cheese sandwich.
• I can do two "hard" Sudoku puzzles while eating a grilled cheese sandwich, a handful of chips, a string cheese and one pickle spear.
• I think Sophie might be ready for solid food because she watches me eat like a Jenny Craig customer at a pie eating contest.
• I'm starting to think the cat likes being squirted with the water bottle because he gets up on the table so much.
• Whoever said that one cookie is a serving clearly did not like cookies.
  

Ladies Who Lunch

I had a wonderful lunch with my two sisters-in-law, Jen(left) and Karen(middle), my mother-in-law, Gail aka Mammom (right), and my niece, Tara (Sophie's future idol in the orange stripes), who is on Spring Break from school. It was delish, as well as interesting to spend time with the women who helped shape the person my husband is. They just adore Sophie, so if I didn't already think they were great, that would tip me over the edge.

At the end of the meal, I had to take Sophie to the bathroom to change her diaper. This is challenging even at home where the set-up is ideal, because Sophie will simply not lay still. But in a restaurant bathroom where you're working within the confines of a small stall, things are even more complicated. Luckily, they had one of those changing station things, although the stall it was in was only slightly larger than a regular stall. So when I sat down to do my own thing, Sophie was literally laying across my lap on the fold down table. Pretty weird to be staring into my daughter's eyes about one foot away. I felt like the cats when I walk in on them in the litter box.

I did manage to get us both taken care of, though, and get her dressed and all of her diaper gear back in the bag. However, I waited until coming out of the stall to return the changing pad to the bag. A woman comes out of an adjacent stall and walks up to the sinks as I finish wedging the pad in my bag and "wash " my hands with my antibacterial gel. I do this because washing my hands while holding a baby is darn near impossible. Holding baby requires at least one hand, washing hands requires two. Where do I put the baby? Under my arm like a clutch purse? So I use the antibacterial gel. Truth be told, it probably does a better job of de-germing my hands than the pathetic wash I could accomplish one hand at a time while holding Sophie. Meanwhile, this other woman does a cursory rinse of her hands, I don't even think she used soap.

We wind up walking out at the same time, with me ahead of this woman. I hold the door open for her and instead of grabbing it, she awkwardly hits it with her elbow and then her butt so as not to touch with her hands. Now, I understand the desire to avoid contact with germy public bathroom surfaces, but this woman could only marginally have been considered to wash her hands and she was concerned about touching the door after me? At first I was offended, but I have since come to the conclusion that she was actually doing the rest of us a favor by not touching the door with her disgusting hands.

Speaking of bacteria-laden hands, how 'bout this picture of Sophie with most of her hand in her mouth. That's my girl!