Come Visit the Land of Bean

It took a little work, but I've got the new Land of Bean up and running. Although this address will continue to operate, I have transferred all old posts and will be posting all future posts at:

www.landofbean.blogspot.com

Thanks for visiting!

Yes, You're in the Right Place

After much blog crawling and soul searching, I have decided to reinvent Bevies of Blevies as the Land of Bean. Its a name I've been rolling around in my head for a while now and have finally decided to pull the trigger. As soon as I figure out how to redirect traffic from the old address to the new one, I'll change that, too. If anyone has any tips on that, I would appreciate them!

Bean is the nickname given to Sophie by my BFF, Aparna. We love it so much that it has become the foundation for many of her other nicknames. (Incidentally, Neil added to the list today with Beanderella.) It seems appropriate that since she is the reason we are now a "bevy" and has in almost every way taken over our lives, that the blog be named after her.

Hillbilly Bean

We've had a couple of major developments in the Land of Bean in the last few days. First off, her third tooth has finally come through. And because my girl refuses to be one of those sheep who grows their teeth in the normal order, it is not one of the expected front two. No, it is her left side incisor. I know I should just be happy that she's getting another tooth, but I have a bit of an OCD thing for symmetry and having this tooth off to the side bothers me. I keep looking at where the middle two will be and thinking, "please come out!" because then she won't look quite so hillbilly. When she smiled with just the two bottom teeth, it was so cute, but now she's going to look like Granny Clampett.

The next big development is that she is beginning to understand that when I put a spoonful of something up to her mouth, that it is okay to let me put the spoon in her mouth. She won't close her mouth around the spoon, though, so I have to sort of scrape the food off on her gums. Clearly she's doesn't quite get the mechanics of this style of food delivery yet, but it's another step in the right direction. We tried peas today and they were not a big success. Although I don't like peas normally, I was so pleasantly surprised by the tastiness of the sweet potatoes that I figured these might turn out to be good, too. Wrong again. They were just as yucky as I expected them to be. No wonder she didn't respond very well to them. I'm going to finally follow everyone's advice and get her some fruit. If nothing else, I'm fairly certain that when I have to show her how, that at least I will like eating them.

Testify!

Yesterday was supposed to be my big day in court. As many of you know, one of the people that used to clean our house took a liking to my fab diamond bracelet and absconded with it. By an amazing twist of fate, I got it back (sometimes I am unbelievably lucky) and they are now prosecuting her for it. Unfortunately, I wasn't the only one, she cleaned a lot of people's houses and liked a lot of their jewelry, too. Well, yesterday was the date set for her trial and I was to go in and testify. (I can't even think that word without hearing a preacher-y voice say it - TESTIFY!) I was pretty excited (and nervous), but when there's a baby involved, planning anything is complicated. Neil had some medical testing yesterday that could not be rescheduled so we had to have someone else watch Sophie. Luckily, Neil's sister, Jen, was kind enough to offer to watch her for the afternoon. This was to be the longest she had been away from both Neil and I.

When I had gotten home from my visit to Aparna's house on Friday, there was a message on the answering machine from the State's Attorney's office regarding the trial. Due to our extremely static-y phone line, I could only understand about every third word (I hate Verizon, I hate Verizon), but the gist of the message seemed to be that he thought the trial would be postponed, either that or he likes peanut butter. It was after hours by the time I got this message, though, so I couldn't call back to get clarification. The trial was scheduled for 1pm on Monday and Jen was planning on coming over around 11:30 to give me plenty of time to get to the courthouse. With no clear idea of what was going on, I didn't want to tell Jen that she was off the hook and then have the trial still be happening.

So, first thing Monday morning I called the State's Attorney office. I wasn't able to talk to my guy, but the legal assistant told me the trial was still a go, so plan on coming in. So, in preparation, I got dressed and squeezed (squoze?) my arse into a pair of pantyhose (blurg). At 11:30 sharp, Jen arrived at our house. As I was closing the door behind her, the phone rings (I swear to god, as good as my luck is, my timing is terrible) and its the State's Attorney calling to tell me that the thief, I mean, defendant, has asked for a postponement because she didn't have a lawyer yet. Now, she'd had several months to make this happen, it's not like they sprung this on her, but clearly she's not the sharpest tool in the box and waited until the last minute. This might be a legal strategy, but what do I know. So, since it wasn't guaranteed that she would get it, they needed me to stay "on call" until 3:30. Fortunately, Jen was able to stay until Neil got home around 2. I finally got a phone call at 4 saying that she had been granted a postponement and the trial is set for July 28th.

The upside to all of this is that Jen and I got to spend several hours playing with Sophie. And Sophie was loving the attention. Jen would hold Sophie over her head and make this sort of dolphin noise and Sophie would just laugh and laugh. Like about a million other moments, I wish that I had caught it on video, but no. These moments are often too fast for me to go get the camera and recreating them almost never works. I should just keep the camera in my pocket at all times. Yeah, because we don't have enough pictures of Sophie - we had to add another network drive on our computer just to accommodate them all. Anyways, two solid hours of playing with Jen and beanie was TIRED. She slept for almost three hours after Jen left. In the end it was almost worth squeezing into pantyhose to have the whole afternoon to myself. Almost.

Unbearable Cuteness of Being

I know I'm partial, but is this kid the Gerber baby or what?

Another Go

So we gave it another go this morning with the sweet potatoes and I can't say with absolute certainty, but I'm pretty sure she actually swallowed some. Which, compared to our previous attempts, feels like we just found a cure for AIDS and solved the riddle of cold fusion all in one.

She began with enthusiasm:However, there was some doubt:
And some resistance:
And some "what you talking 'bout, Willis" attitude:But in the end, she was smiling, so I don't think she was traumatized by the event:More potatoes tomorrow.

Let's Try This Again

Thinking the rice cereal might not be the most appealing first meal, I decided to break down and delve into one of the teeny tiny jars of baby food. The sweet potato seemed like the best choice. I have never been much of a sweet potato fan, but I was hoping that Sophie would be. Much like the rice cereal, I decided to show her how it was done. Only this time I actually ate it, and I have to say, that stuff is awesome! Why have I been depriving myself of this oh-so-tasty treat all these years? Do all sweet potatoes taste this good or is it only mashed up ones in itty bitty jars? So for every bite I attempted to give her, I think I ate two. I'm working on the theory that she needs to see me eat it to understand whats to be done, so really I'm obligated as a mother to do this.

Unfortunately, Sophie did not go for the sweet potatoes either. However, she did not spit them out over the side of the chair, which I consider an improvement. This time she just pushed it out of her mouth and let it ooze down her chin. So I'm thinking we may be on to something. Tomorrow, more sweet potatoes.

A Visit With Amamma

Before they headed off on a mother-daughter trip to Mexico, Sophie and I went to visit Pinni and Amamma. Of course, I'm terribly jealous that they're spending a week in paradise, and will only be mollified by fabulous gifts from the Yucatan (ahem). Because of the weather, Sophie got to wear one of her cute little skirts for the first time. Of course, I was more excited about it than she was, although she loves having her feet bare.

Sophie was in a rare form for the visit. She was absolutely charming the whole time. In fact, you might even say she was giddy - laughing, smiling, and very playful. She even stayed calm and cool through lunch at Panera. However, in a move starkly out of character, I decided not to push my luck and brought her home immediately afterwards even though a trip to Target was in the plans. Ah, Target, how I love thee, let me count the ways. Oh well, another day.

Thanks, Parvathi, for the super cute outfits for Sophie, I can't wait to get her in them!

Open Mouth, Insert NOTHING

Following our doctor visit on Tuesday, where Dr. B told us we could start feeding Sophie solid food, we were both excited to get the party started. In preparation for this celebrated event, I had purchased rice cereal and several teeny tiny jars of organic baby food on the way home from the doctor's office. Organic because now that I'm a mommy I have converted to the all natural cult. The irony there is that I love, LOVE, Dr. Pepper and will eat the bejesus out of a box of ho-ho's. Whatever. The doctor had recommended that we start her with rice cereal since it has the lowest incidence of allergic reaction and even though I suspect it tastes like poo, I'll take the doctor's advice on this one. (That's Gomez waiting his turn in Sophie's high chair. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't eat the rice cereal either.)

Once we had everything together, we sat her down in her Bumbo with the tray. Then, to whet her appetite I pretended to eat it. I say pretended because I had prepared this fine concoction with breastmilk, and I'm more than a little skeeved out by the idea of eating that. Which is weird because I'm okay with drinking cow's milk and that's pretty nasty when you think about it. Anyways, she loves it and it's a familiar taste, so it seemed the natural base for her first meal.

Well, as you'll see, Beanie watched me mime eating and kindof looked interested. But when it came to actually putting it in her mouth, she was like "unh unh, no way jose." I'm not sure we even got one spoonful in successfully. And her face on that first bite is absolutely priceless. But what I just love is that she leaned over the side to spit it out.



Stay tuned. I have a feeling this isn't going to happen overnight.

Why, Why, Why?

So I know I can't expect the world to stop so that my baby can take a nap, but why the frak is it that just as my darling bean is settling in for a long afternoon nap, the neighbor has to start chainsawing his tree into itty bitty pieces. If he weren't so nice, I'd be out there with my squirt gun.
What? It works on the cats.

What's Up Doc?

The day started at 5:45am when Sophie Bean woke up raring to go - damn daylight savings time. Needless to say, I was a little less than enthused to be up at this hour but there's no reasoning with a gurgling, chatty baby at that hour of the morning. (As if there were reasoning with a baby at any other hour.) By the time she finally went down for her morning nap, there was no way I could lay back down myself and have time to get ready, so I just resigned myself to being a wee bit groggy. You'd think I would be used to the sleep deprivation by this time, but somehow it still gets me.

I was a little nervous about the doctor visit because Sophie had to get three vaccination shots, which has been pretty rough on us during past visits. And by rough, I mean agonized crying, with big, giant tears rolling down my face. It's pretty hard on her, too. However, she was in a really good mood all morning, smiling and flirting with everyone we came into contact with, so I was optimistic that maybe things would go a little smoother this time. Ahhh, but then.

But then the doctor made us wait for 45 minutes in the exam room. She had already been weighed and measured, so she was naked except for her diaper. So there I am with a wriggling, naked baby in a room with no place to set her down except on the exam table. But she kept trying to eat the paper cover, so the only other place was in her car seat. Which isn't weird except that she was naked. I don't know why I felt weird about that except that it reminded me of this time I wound up driving home in just my underclothes due to a very large mud puddle. I can't even begin to explain that here, but suffice to say it was uncomfortable for me...and the neighbors who saw me run into the house from the car. Anyways, by the time the doctor got in there, we were both more than a little restless. The exam itself is nothing, though, just a few pokes and some questions. The doctor pointed out that her top gums were very swollen indicating that she would likely be cutting her top teeth very soon. As I am still breastfeeding, all I can say is, YIPPEE.

Then we had to wait ANOTHER 10 minutes for the nurse to come along with the vaccinations. By this time, we had crossed from restless to cranky. Sophie only has a couple of good waking hours between naps and we were at the two hour mark before the nurse even walked in. So there was pretty much no way she was going to take those shots easily. And she didn't. She wailed and cried. I hate it so much. There's nothing worse than to see your baby cry. So, on the way home we stopped at Wendy's and got a frosty. The doctors tell me that anything I eat, she eats, so really it's as a treat for both of us.

At least we don't have to do that again for a while.

Anyways, current stats: 14 pounds and 25 inches. She's a bit light for her age but nothing to be worried about. More interestingly, her head circumference is in the 75th percentile, while her weight is in the 15th. So my beautiful little girl is the proverbial orange on a toothpick. Maybe that's why she's having trouble sitting up. The good news is we got the okay to start her on solid foods. Let the hilarity ensue.

Neil had a run-in with a tree the other day while mowing, which explains that big scrape on his forehead. I'll blame that funny smile on too much caffeine.

The Artist Formerly Known As...

Dear Dad,

Remember when I was 10 and I went to see Purple Rain like 7 times and had the record and played it constantly? And remember when I tried to convince you that Prince was WAY better than the Beatles? And you patiently explained that this was not the case and never would be.

Well, you were right.

Happy Birthday!

Love,
Cara

Little Voices

When Sophie was 3 or 4 weeks old, I had a sort of breakdown. I don't want to call it Postpartum Depression, because I don't think it was. I think it was more that I was going stir crazy from spending too much time indoors with the baby and not getting much (or any) time to myself either inside the house or out. Not to mention all the postpartum hormones that sent me on an emotional rollercoaster. Smiling and laughing one minute and screaming or crying the next. I was pretty even keeled all through pregnancy, I think my body let it all out after the baby was born. Needless to say, Neil was a tad unsure about how to deal with me.

So after one particularly nasty episode, it was agreed that I get at least one outing a week where Neil watches the baby while I go do something fun. I think that conversation went something like this:

Me: I. (sob) Need. (sob) To. (sob) Get. (sob) Out. (sob) Of. (sob) The. (sob) House. (sob).
Neil: (nodding frantically).

These outings do not include grocery shopping or other mundane but necessary activities. So far Neil has been really good about keeping his end of the bargain, probably because he likes being married. However, due to circumstances beyond our control, I haven't had an outing in a couple of weeks. So, as you can imagine, I was raging to get out on my own by yesterday morning.

These trips usually include Aparna and movies are often our destination. So yesterday we went to go see Forgetting Sarah Marshall. I won't go into too much detail about the movie other than to say that it was very funny. And there was full frontal male nudity, in a comic setting, not sexual. Jason Segel, the lead actor and writer who also stars in How I Met Your Mother (another very funny show), was just great. And did I mention there was full frontal male nudity? Definitely not for the kiddies.

Anyways, we went to the 11:20 am show because it's cheap and no one is there. Does that make us really smart or really lame? We were almost late because I had it in my head it was showing at 11:45. Luckily, the theater plays 20 minutes of previews and commercials before the feature. A fact that normally really irritates me. I mean, come on, I go to movies to AVOID commercials. But often if you show up late enough to miss some or all of these you have to sit in crappy seats. Like the time we had to sit in the front row of the 800-seat theater to watch Lord of the Rings. It was like watching a tennis match, not to mention that a woman next to us had brought her 2 year old and allowed him to jump in his seat and run around in the open area in front of the screen for the WHOLE three hours. I have a pretty low threshold for those sorts of shenanigans and I was ready to strangle the mother by the end. Who brings a 2 year old to a three hour movie? There's a reason kids movies are only an hour long and its not because they don't feel like making longer ones. That will not be me and my kid(s), even if it means that Neil and I don't get to see a movie together again until the kids go off to college. But I digress.

There weren't a ton of people there yesterday, but enough that in order for us not to sit next to anyone, we wound up on the aisle. A couple of rows in front of us, there was a 40ish fellow sitting by himself. He talked, quietly, throughout the whole movie. It wasn't loud enough to bother us, really, but loud enough for us to be aware of him. The first time he said something, Aparna looked at me and we kind of smiled. The next time, we gave each other a "what the?" look. From then on, we would just sort of giggle whenever we heard him say something. Not because what he was saying was funny, because we couldn't really understand him, but just that here's this normal looking guy talking to himself at the movie. I'll admit to doing that occasionally (all right, all the time) at home, but not out.

So about an hour and a half into the movie, just as things were winding up to the crescendo, he gets up, grabs his drink and popcorn, and walks out. We watched him leave and I thought, well, the drinks are HUGE, maybe he has to pee. Fast forward 15 minutes to when the credits were rolling, and we realized that he never came back. He sat (and chatted) through an hour and a half of a movie and then left just before the end. Not that anybody was surprised by the direction the story took, but still, who leaves after an hour and a half? Maybe it was a sudden illness that prompted his departure although you'd think we would have picked up on that from his running commentary. Or maybe he got a call on his spy watch/phone and had to leave to go save the world. Or the little voices in his head, the ones that were maybe talking back to him during the movie, told him that he had to leave.

Whatever the case, he left both of us wondering. Prior to this we just thought he was eccentric, but now I'm not so sure. Maybe next time we'll look out for guys sitting by themselves.

How cute is that picture of Sophie and Aparna? She stopped by for a cuddle (with the baby, not me) after the movie and Sophie was totally eating it up.

At the Car Wash

Because of Verizon (worst company EVER), we missed swim class on Tuesday. I won’t go into the whys of that, I’m still too frustrated to talk about it. So we made it up yesterday. Swim class is only a half hour and, frankly, I’m doing all the work, but that girl is dog tired after. Sophie is almost guaranteed to take a 2-3 hour nap afterwards.

We had some running around to do. So to make sure everyone was happy while we were out, we waited until after Sophie’s long post-swim nap to go. This did ensure her sunny disposition lasted through all of our scheduled outings. And then I had to push things that one step too far, as usual. There’s a car wash on the way home that has an automatic touchless wash and since I’m all for anything that keeps me comfortably in my seat and my car was one step away from “wash me” on the window, I paid the $10 and we rolled into the bay.

At first things were okay. But then Sophie started to pout. Now a pout doesn’t always turn into crying but crying is always preceded by a pout. If I can get to her fast enough and comfort her, often I can divert a meltdown. Not always, as the many people who have witnessed one of my delicate flower’s episodes can attest. However, locked in her car seat in the back, with me up front, there was absolutely no chance that I was getting to her in time.

I have to admit that at first I thought she was unhappy with my choice of singalong material, which happened to be Kix “Don’t Close Your Eyes.” I thought, well heck, maybe she doesn’t enjoy 80s hair bands. Fair enough. So I changed the station and the crying didn’t stop. That was when I noticed that the big cries came following each pass of the jets. I was more than a little anxious at this point as we weren’t even half way done because I HAD to get the super deluxe wash and there are 42 steps in the super deluxe wash. As each pass of the jets went by, she wailed louder, probably thinking we were in the middle of an air raid, while I awkwardly reached back and tried to console her as best I could. All to no avail. A baby crying in a car is misery…for the other occupants of the car. Between the blasts of soap, water, wax, and whatever else they shoot out and her screams, it was absolutely deafening.

In the end, we both survived, albeit just a tad frazzled, the car was cleaner than when it went in and I have probably lost yet a little bit more of my hearing...and sanity.

Parenting Lesson #457: Don’t take baby in automatic car wash.

A Trip to Storyville

We celebrated Sophie's half birthday yesterday with a trip to Storyville at the library. We met Sophie's friends Lucy (8 months) and Gwen (almost 3!) there, who were of course brought by their mommy (and my friend), Chrissy. Storyville is a really great place for kids to play and be introduced to books. They also have a special area just for little babies. No surprise, there aren't many books in that area, but lots of fun things for babies to look at and touch. I should start by saying that Storyville is a pretty popular place. There was a wait to get in - a little throwback to my clubbing days. Of course the bouncer in this case was a 70 year old lady who could probably stare down a Hells Angel, but I doubt she would get far in a rumble. I was pretty sure I could take her, but I decided to be a good example for my daughter and wait my turn. (I love this picture because Sophie has a "caught in the act" look about her.)

Sophie spent most of the time watching the other kids run around, kicking her little legs and waving her arms around like she wanted to play with them. I think it was a really good experience for her to see other kids playing. That's one of my big worries staying home with her is that she won't be as socialized as kids who go to day care. I do try to get her in situations with other babies regularly, but I'm not sure it's the same as spending all day with them. (That's Lucy showing off her legs.)

At any rate, it was a good time and we'll definitely be going back to Storyville.

Six Mois Aujourd'hui

Sophie is six months today - my goodness the time has flown. I still feel like she’s that miniature human we brought home from the hospital but she’s turning into a kid, albeit a slobbering, completely irrational one. True to form, here is her much anticipated six month picture. I put the bumper back on to get perspective, otherwise she now sleeps in a bare crib. So very blah - I want frills, frill, frills! Oh well. See how much she's changed since she was five months old.

She loves standing these days. I can’t hold her on my lap for long without her pushing back because she wants to stand. She does a pretty good job of pulling herself up from a sitting position to a standing one, with a little help from mommy, of course. I'll try to get a video of it, because she looks so pleased with herself afterwards that you can't help but smile with her and I'm all for more smiles.

Meanwhile she is still chewing on everything. This morning I was watching her attack the attachments on her exersaucer and the zeal with which she went after them caused a flashback to the other night when we were watching Resident Evil 3: Extinction (don’t ask, Neil picked it). The way the zombies in that movie behaved reminds me just a bit of Sophie. They would crane their necks and flail their arms in their quest to get at the throats of their intended victims with a single minded focus. Watching Sophie, she does pretty much the same thing. Although her victims are plastic thingamajigs, not humans, fortunately. She hasn’t gone for my throat yet, but I’m keeping an eye on her.

Mammom and Grandy stopped by for a visit yesterday. Although it was a rocky start, Sophie warmed up after a bit. I think she has some separation anxiety issues. I have to admit a tiny little part of me loves it that she likes being held by me the best. Am I subconsciously encouraging her? I swear I don't chant "ONLY MOMMY, ONLY MOMMY!" when its just the two of us. It will be nice when she gets to be a bit more comfortable being held by other people, though.

Future All American

When we found out we were having a girl, I was happy. Secretly, I had been hoping it would be a girl. As one myself, and with only sisters, I have a much better understanding of the workings of the female anatomy and mind than of the male. In addition to the fact that girls have much cuter clothes. I am literally frothing at the bit to get Sophie in her less functional and more frilly outfits. However, I know that Neil had dreams of playing ball in the backyard with junior.

So that day walking out of the hospital after the sonogram, I asked him if he was disappointed. I knew that even if he was, he wouldn't say it, but I figured I could read his mood by the tone of his response if not the actual words. True to his ever optimistic form, he said that he was just happy that everything was okay and that there was no rule he couldn't play ball with a daughter. He finished up by saying that he would just have to learn the rules of girl's Lacrosse, a sport he played growing up and still enjoys. And by enjoy, I mean absolutely fanatical about. I, for one, don't get it at all. We didn't have it in Kansas and despite having attended a number of our nephew Zack's games, I still don't quite understand the positions and rules. However, he loves it and thanks to Miss Debbie, Sophie has the beginnings of what will no doubt be a not inconsiderable wardrobe of lacrosse themed apparel.

Meanwhile, I don't think a daddy could love his daughter more than Neil does. She absolutely has him wrapped around her little finger. He lives for her smile (as do I) and would do anything to make her happy. In the end, she's just about the best thing to ever happen to us. Well, her and Tivo.

Rock Chalk Jayhawk!!!

My boys in blue pulled out the National Championship last night! It was a really exciting game, so close throughout the whole thing. We went up to watch it in bed after halftime. While Neil fell asleep pretty quickly, I stayed up. I spent the last few minutes literally crouched on the bed with the bedsheets clutched in my hands. I woke the baby up with my shouting, "Oh, my God!" after they scored the 3 pointer to tie and go into overtime. I know there was some serious celebrating in Lawrence last night and probably today, too. I wish I had a cute little KU outfit for Sophie, but I don't. So her bunny outfit will have to do.

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!

In a Mommy Moment

I had my first truly ditzy mommy moment yesterday. Mondays are generally grocery store day, give or take three days, and so I bundled the child up and off we went. We have four grocery stores within about 2 minutes of our house and I go through phases where one is my favorite and I will go to it all the time. But then something will happen, they stop carrying Campbell's Supper Bakes(gasp!), for instance, and we will break up. Amicably, of course, because I might want to take them back. Safeway is my grocery store du jour.

Sophie had just woken up from a nap when we left, so I knew we had a good solid hour, maybe even two, before the cranks set in. We wandered through all of the aisles, grabbing things we didn't need and generally had a pleasant shopping experience. Sophie looked around, wide-eyed, and gurgled the whole time. When we got to the check-out, I politely let both a man and a woman, who each had only one or two things, go ahead of me. I was feeling terribly magnanimous, sort of like that give it back commercial. You know, where people do something nice and someone sees them do it and they do something nice and so on. I wanted to start that chain.

I finally get to the conveyor belt and laid out all of my food. The checker starts ringing things up and I reach into my purse to grab my wallet so I can scan my Safeway card, but its not there. And that's when I realize that, horror of horrors, I have forgotten my wallet. I stand there sheepishly for a moment, watching him run items across the scanner, and then I check my purse again. Maybe I've overlooked it and it is in there. But, no. Plenty of diapers, but no wallet.

I tell the kid how sorry I am but I've forgotten my wallet and he looks at me like I'm the biggest moron ever. It was obvious even before this that here was a person who was not happy. Whether it was just the job or it extended beyond to a general dissatisfaction with life, I can't say. I ask him if we could just put the stuff to the side and I could run home and come right back. He doesn't say anything, just starts putting everything back in the cart. Despite my urge to tell him where he could stick his bad attitude, I continue to apologize profusely saying I've never done this before, I just switched purses and so on. Another checker/bagger comes by and starts helping us re-load the cart and he tells me that they'll put the cart over to the side for me. He says not to worry, it happens all the time.

The worst part is that I hadn't really dressed up for this outing. I had showered, but had just allowed my hair to air dry, had no make-up on and I don't think my clothes really matched. So I couldn't even be the cute, dumb girl. I seriously contemplated not going back and just moving on to the next grocery store, but my conscience got the better of me and back we went. I wish I could say the kid was nicer the second time around but he wasn't. However, the bagger and the other checker who had witnessed the event were surprised and happy to see me back. I know I'm going to feel goofy the next time I go there, maybe it's time for a switch.

The moral of the story is never forget to wear mascara, because you're going to do stupid things, but its much better to look good and feel stupid than to feel stupid and look bad while you're at it.

G

We had a pretty exciting event this weekend. For the first time, we left Sophie with someone while we left the house! We are doing some tiling in the basement and needed to go to Lowe's to pick up all of the supplies, which not surprisingly, would be much easier without the baby. So, Neil calls up his parents and asks them if they could come over for an hour or two so we could go.

I have this picture in my head of how that call went through on their side. Mammom puts down the phone after telling Neil that they'll be over in an hour and hits the grandparent alarm button. A giant G spotlight immediately shows out onto the clouds and Grandy, working his way through the back nine, recognizes the sign. He finishes the round, let it not be said the man walked away from a golf game unfinished, and then hops in the G-mobile to pick up Mammom. They barrel over here at breakneck speeds, whip into the driveway with flourish and are at the door in exactly an hour.

Sophie was a little fussy when we left, it seemed like she knew that we were leaving her. I had absolute confidence in Grandy and Mammom's ability to take care of her, but that didn't mean that the desire to call about 10 times during that hour at Lowe's went away. Somehow I managed to restrain myself, though. When we got back, she was sitting contentedly on Grandy's lap with one of her teething toys in her mouth.

Here's a picture of the tile so far. Do I rock the hizzy or what? I got it all down and all that's left is to grout it. I'm pretty excited to be done with it. Except that I am so sore. Every. Muscle. In. My. Body. Hurts.

I am dreading doing the grouting because it means more pain.

And yes, that's a cat door leading into the laundry room. I know, ingenious.

If at first...

"I read my horoscope. The first line said, 'Ignore bad advice.' Fine. I stopped reading my horoscope." - Dan Spencer

I made a startling revelation the other day, one that just might change the future of my life as a parent. I think I am probably way behind the curve on this one, but the realization is still pretty liberating. Parenting books are crap.

For nearly six months, as well as most of the previous nine, I have read and reread a half dozen books looking for guidance and inspiration for how to deal with the myriad of unforeseen circumstances that parents encounter. And let's face it, as a new parent, they're ALL unforeseen circumstances. However, they all seem to be so specific, "your child should be sleeping through the night by 6 months, four days and 8 hours" or they're so vague "your child might be sleeping through the night between 5 and 9 months," that they just don't seem to be practically applicable.

I think the best comparison is to newspaper horoscopes. Here's mine for today: "The labor of your hard work will show great rewards this morning. Perhaps you have been working in the garden or you have prepared the house for a reception of some sort--perhaps a birthday party or a celebration. You put a lot of effort and forethought into whatever it is you are doing today. Your personality is magnetic and can be passed very easily to another person today. You will be highly successful in the results that you set out to achieve. Allow your positive energy to work through you now. Emotions today as well as the feelings of those around you, may become very clear. If you are not cleaning up this evening, you will most certainly find yourself relaxing and having fun with friends. Start the evening out with laughter."

Something I've been working on, hmm, I am tiling the basement...my personality is magnetic, gee, it's like they know me...If I'm not cleaning, I'll be relaxing this evening, true, true...start the evening out with laughter, wow, have they read my mind? It's absolute merde.

And so goes the books, I'm sorry Doctors Sears, Spock, Weisbluth, et al. I appreciate the effort you put into creating these magnum opuses (opi?), but I think we'll just figure it out as we go.

This picture was in the slide show from Friday's post, but I am so in love with it that I had to put it in here again.

Summertime, Wherefore Art Thou?

After the whole Verizon experience I needed a little sunshine and puppies, so I had Sophie try on one of her summer outfits, just for fun. I couldn't decide which photo I liked the best and they were awfully darn cute as a show, so here is the whole experience.

RIP

I would like to take a moment to mourn the loss of customer service in America. I just spent the better part of an hour on the phone with various “customer service” agents from Verizon trying to explain the problem we are having with our DSL service. Basically, some sort of static on the line is causing our DSL to frequently disconnect. On two occasions, they directed me to call the same number I had just called to reach the person I was speaking with. What? On one occasion, the woman had me repeat myself because, wait for it, there was static on the line.

After an hour, I was on the verge of tears from frustration and trying not to yell at these poor people whose only sin was to agree to work for Verizon, which might be sin enough, now that I think about it. By this time, however, the baby actually was crying, quite loudly, and I decided it was time to take a break. All of this could be solved if you could just talk to a person without going through a 15 step automated menu and their service departments weren't so fragmented all over the world.

Sorry, there’s no cute baby story here.

I need a Ho Ho.

Booga Booga

Sophie just loves to be vertical these days. Her favorite thing is for one of us to hold her so that she is supporting her weight on her feet and then bounce her up and down. So, thinking this meant she was primed and ready for the exersaucer, I plunked her down in it. The first thing I noticed was that our little miss is a tad petite for the seat, so we had to support her with a small pillow. Doesn't she look cozy? And unfortunately, she's not quite strong enough to really move many of the parts or buttons yet. So, as usual, mommy wound up playing with everything while baby looks at mommy like she is covered in blue fur. She went back and forth from crying to happy squealing, so I can't quite figure out yet if she likes it or not. We'll give it another go in a day or two.

Neil took this video the other day and I can't stop laughing when I watch it. The funniest part is that Neil had no idea he was moving the camera, he just thought he was getting a cute video of Sophie laughing and smiling. Make sure your sound is on.

Poopenstein

Here's Sophie waking up from a nap. We had a little photo shoot since she was looking so cute. I said, "dahhhling, can you give me cautiously happy," and I got the one on the left. And then I said, "now, give me pensive, rrrrrr!" and we got the one on the right.










In the continuing theme of lists, I thought I would compile all of the nicknames we have for Sophie:

1. Sophie Bean (given to her by her pinni and still my favorite)
2. Beaner
3. Soph
4. Sophapotamous
5. Poopasaurus Rex
6. Stinky McStinkerson (can you guess who gave her this one?)
   
7. Poopenstein
   
8. Sweet Potea (developed when I kept accidentally blending sweet pea and sweet potato, now it's a thing)
   
9. Baby Girl (not very original, I know)
10. Beanie Baby
11. Toots (which she does often and loudly)
12. Sophiekins
    

No doubt she'll have some trouble figuring out what her real name is. Poor kid.

I loved some of my friends' idea of taking a picture of their kids in the same spot each month. So here she is at 5 months. See her at four months.
She's getting more okay with the camera these days and I can usually get her to smile for at least a couple of pictures. Can you spot her little teefs?

Next Blog

When I first set this blog up, I noticed the small button at the top of the screen that says "Next Blog." It didn't interest me, really. Frankly, I figured all blogs were like ours, mostly interesting to people who know us. Although I'd like to think that the whole world wants to look at pictures of my beautiful daughter because she's just so darn cute and read my tales of delight or woe about life with her, sadly I don't think that is the case. (This is Sophie's most recently acquired chew toy. She has about 12 now and this is the only one she'll have anything to do with.)

We did start using Google Analytics, which tracks how many hits we get a day and from where. We've had 325 hits from more than 60 people in 15 states. And would you believe someone checked us out from Malaysia! I can safely say that the majority of these are people that I know, however, I am fairly confident I don't know anyone in Hoboken, let alone Malaysia, so there are at least a few non-family members who think we're moderately interesting.

So despite these numbers, which I naively thought were pretty awesome, and my delight with my friends' blogs, I hadn't really put much thought into the blogs of people I didn't know. But after looking at that "Next Blog" button for the better part of a month, I finally pushed it the other day. I can dramatically compare this event to every movie where a person does that first line of cocaine or hit of heroine. I think the Doors "Break on Through To The Other Side" might even have started playing somewhere. That first click did not take me to an interesting blog, nor the second or third. But at some point, I clicked on one from a woman in Wisconsin who spends a great deal of time talking about Jane Austen and knitting, both topics that could be VERY dry, but she makes them interesting and fun (A Good Thing It Is To Be With). And somehow from there I found my way to my first professional "mommy" blog (Baby On Bored). This one done by a woman who has actually written a couple of books and who is splendidly perceptive and funny. I haven't read her books yet, but I plan to. There are LOTS more mommy blogs, way too many for me to detail. Most of which curse a lot and have terribly clever names that make me wish I had come up with something better for mine. (This picture has no relevance whatsoever, I just think its funny. Note the ugly blue carpet, soon to be gone. Yay. And that's an ever-present twistie-tie by his head. He LOVES them.)

From here, a whole world has opened up to me. I now have my Paris blog (Paris Daily Photo), my cooking blog (Smitten Kitchen) and my snarky Hollywood fashion blog (Go Fug Yourself), among others.

I can't believe that I was so completely unaware of this blog world (ahem, blogosphere, I'm getting in on the lingo) and that I might actually find it interesting.

Programming Note: I finally watched High School Confidential, which I DVRed last week. It's set in Overland Park at Northwest High School, which is pretty close to my last KC residence, so it's kind of neat to see recognizable locations. More importantly though, it was a really interesting show. It follows twelve girls through their four years of high school, showing how they changed over the years. Each show is about two girls. It is probably most appealing to girls/women, not surprisingly. If you have the opportunity, give it a watch. It's on Monday nights on WE.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!!