Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Solids and Spider- Man

She's a rolly-polly, scooting and turning and somehow getting herself across rooms. I'll lay her down on the floor on a blanket and find her on the other side of the room a few minutes later. She's also discovered her toes, which is seriously too cute. She started to notice them while sitting in her Bumbo, and now when she lays on her back she reaches up for them and either just likes to hold her toes, or she tries to eat them. But she has really chubby legs, so they don't quite squish up to her mouth as well as she'd like.
She's also started sampling solid food. Still won't take a bottle of any kind, and binkies are chew toys, not for sucking or soothing, Her favorite is frozen yogurt, chocolate flavor. 

 Sometimes I match them accidently on purpose.
 Siblings, no?
 Bad guy face. He's actually looking at the camera.
She can be moody.
 Oh, how she likes to eat faces!
 Not this one though. He's too fierce.
 He climbs like Spider- Man, but then he reaches for a stair and hangs by one arm "like King Louis" from Jungle Book
 You've just had web shot at you. 

Friday, June 1, 2012

I don't mean to compare, but...

Vivian does this really great thing where she sleeps in her own crib. She whimpers and shrieks and rubs her eyes when she is tired. It's amazing- it's like she's communicating with us. All I have to do is swaddle her and let her work through her seriously adorable chatty-ness phase. She gargles and gurgles with her eyes closed, as if she is so tired she has to tell me how tired she is before she can go to sleep. Then she gets quieter, sleepy, and on good days I can put her in her crib like that and she'll drift off on her own, softly murmuring. Most days I can put her down in her crib, gently rock the frame for a minute while she settles, and then I'm good to go. Bad days mean a couple rounds of putting her down and picking her back her up before she'll settle for sleeping out of my arms. Even on those days though, from start to finish it is usually less than 15 minutes. No bouncing and jostling and shhh-ing for hours, no guessing about if it is time for a nap, no nursing endlessly, no spending every nap time in absolute silence, frozen still, for fear of waking up the baby who finally dozed off on my chest as I'm sitting in a terribly uncomfortable arm-falling-off position. It's nice to sit in bed and flip through parenting books, nodding knowingly, finally understanding what they are talking about when they say "when your baby shows signs of being tired..." and "babies thrive on predictable schedules." Then I look over and pat Creedo's lovely soft head, nuzzled right into my back, taking over my pillow, and repeat to myself a series of comforting mantras. It starts with "At least he's sleeping," then rises not very calmly to "I just want my bed back," oscillates back and forth, and ends with "Let him be little and sleep in the middle" over and over until I fall asleep.