She Speaks!

Not in English, not yet. Still, Sophie has been trying out her verbal communication lately in little babbles and coos, and she apparently gets angry if you don't speak back. She is delighted if you do answer. Evidently she's telling us the funniest baby walked into a bar joke in the whole world and no one has told her how to play it straight yet. It's most self-amusing thing after sneezing.

Shockingly some of her coos sound like speech. I know, I know, it's not. One time I swore I heard her call Laaaaa ooooo waaaaaa from the other room, which--what? Okay, I know, she didn't really call out my name, but it still freaked me out a tiny little bit like the story of the kid who just heard the baby Einstein Bach and then went and played it on the piano. What? It's freaky! Also this morning we were peering into her crib and she said something that sounded like "hi" over and over again and Eric proclaimed her a genius. I promise to try to keep the proclaiming of a genius down to a minimum.

Here's what she says most often and what I think it means:

Eh: These days it really does mean what the baby whisperer said. I have gas. Usually it's a burp. Unless she's in her bassinet. Then "eh, eh, eh, eh" is always followed by a loud poot.

Ah! Ah!: Either, "Hey, where did everybody go?" or "Somebody come change me!" or both.

Aaaaoooooo. Aaaaaaoooo. : "So a baby walks into a bar..."

No matter what she is trying to tell us, her tiny little voice is my new favorite thing.

In the Being a Mom is Awesome Category

It's probably some sort of reflex, but when Sophie first wakes up and I go to pick her up and she throws her arms on either side of my neck and goes in for the nestle, it slays me every time.

"Do you ever read the MiniMax blog anymore?"
"Of course I do."
"You never comment."
"You know how I feel about the comments style on the blogger blogs."
"You comment on Livejournal."
"It is easier. And I am busy."

So, friends, here I am. I know, i don't post here much, but I sort of see this as a mommas forum, and much like feeding my child, I do it in a way specifically different from my lovely wife.

I will post today though, and considering that just about every one of our friends and acquaintances are either birthing, pregnant, thinking about pregnancy or getting married, I'll offer up what I have learned thus far:

........

ha, I kid.

Seriously though, what I have learned is that I know nothing.

Except for this:

-Save money. Now. $10 a week even. Just do it. You'll need it. Brown bag it one day a week. Something. Anything. Make time your ally.

-Make sure your relationship is in a healthy place. This is no friggin' joke here. While the baby brings a ton of joy, it also brings a ton of stress, and if you thought you argued before...

-Look for daycare about 3 years before he/she is born. Or, one of you find a job that can support you both. I used to think all the money in this city went to real estate. I was wrong. It goes to childcare.

-Decide how you want to raise you child and then divorce yourself from it. You'll be pleasantly surprised if it actually works out, but it won't, so be ready for anything.

-call your parents and apologize.

-and then ask for their help.

-tell your friend you love them, you miss them and you'll see them in 10 years.

That is all I know. I gotta run, time to interview another nanny.

8 and a Quarter Weeks

Oh ominous day. Oh day of first immunizations. Oh day, oh mighty day.

Sophie came off the scale at the doctor's today (where she weighed in at a magnificent 10 lbs 15.6 oz, a diaper short of 11 lbs) and promptly peed on me. I always travel with extra clothes for her, not I'll just have to remember to bring a change for myself.

Oh well, I said, it won't be the last time.

Sophie tolerated her shots fairly well. She cried big fat salty teardrops for a bit, but she recovered soon and was mostly okay for the car ride home. She slept a good portion of the day, then awoke at 3:30 to scream her fool head off for about an hour, as if she suddenly remembered the atrocity. Nothing but wearing her would sooth her, so I tucked her into the Bjorn and marched her around the apartment.

I'm sorry if I've mentioned this before, but as our apartment is long but limited in size, there isn't a vast amount of ground to cover when one walks Sophie back and forth. Walking back and forth, by the way, is her favorite all-time activity, followed closely by breastfeeding, passing gas, bicycling her legs to the Bicycle Race song, and talking to the dots on the wall above her changing table when being changed. You would think sleep would be on that list, but you would be wrong. While not sleeping, she really really needs to be walked back and forth along what has become the same tired stretch of apartment. I can no longer walk this stretch without thinking of National Lampoon's European Vacation. Look kids. Big Ben. Parliament.

Speaking of wearing children, I saw a link on my neighborhood parent's listserv that shows you how to wear a child in a sling. I've tried to wear her a few times in the sling, but abandoned it in favor of the Bjorn. After getting a few pointers from the internet I felt sling confident, which is probably half the sling battle. The other half is immediately going for a walk around the block to lull the baby to sleep.

I find it interesting that our culture, through Dr. Sears and Dr. Karp and so on, seems to be returning to a more tribal nature. Evidently in other more tribal cultures children don't HAVE colic (which Sophie might be launching into) partly because they wear their children and breastfeed them constantly and probably even have family beds. And I'm into it to a point. We're not really family bed people, but I like having her "co-sleeper that we use as a bassinet" right next to the bed. I like wearing her when it seems to make her happy and especially when it soothes a crying fit. I'll turn off the television. I'll even eye the Rudolf Steiner approach to learning and keep a look out for wooden toys. All of these things seem to turn away from a technological society. What I find so interesting about all of this is I wouldn't have the slightest idea what to do with a sling if it weren't for the internet. No matter the mode, I often wear my daughter by the computer to check my email. In fact often it's the only thing that makes checking my email possible.

In other news, the official stats for the 2nd month appointment are as follows:
Weight (as mentioned): 10 lbs 15.6 oz (50% for age group)
Height: 23" (75%)
Head Circumference: 38 cm (25-30%)

She keeps growing steadily and according to the doctor has excellent head control.

Jaws was Never my Scene

I sing a lot to Sophie. More often than not the songs are by Radiohead, Modest Mouse, or even Frank Zappa. For a little while I worried I might be warping her, but now I'm pretty sure she enjoys it no matter what I sing. Besides, Itsy Bitsy Spider got old quickly, and it was much more fun to sing the "pretty pretty girl" section (but only that) of Beast of Burden. I'm sure when she gets older we'll sing plenty of rounds of the Wheels on the Bus.

We have a new favorite game where I bicycle her legs and sing Queen's Bicycle Race to her. It sure does make her smile.

Dress-Up Doll Born To Area Couple

Jenny left this link in the "Fell in love with the Drummer" post below. The Onion, as always.

Happy Belated Mother's Day

As seen at the League of Melbotis.

It's Let Me Show You a Picture of My Daughter Tuesday!

Even Spurs fans feel Steve Nash's pain.

She Fell in Love with the Drummer, Another and Another

When we were in our first weeks with Sophie she had a particular face, her shiny eyes would grow wide and she would pop up and for some reason she reminded me of a squirrel, so I took to calling her my baby squirrel or flying squirrel. A few days ago at a Mighty Girl post on Blogfathers, I saw the squirrel onesie.

A quick google sent me to Bean, New York where both the Drumming Squirrel and BabyLegs reside. Actually I just realized Hank might be wearing babylegs in that picture.

Several years ago I was in a now defunct Brooklyn store where they were selling little wool hats with animal ears for children and I heard the faintest ticking of a clock. Then I thought it might not be the best idea to have children just so I could dress them. And I was right, that's a terrible reason to have children, but not a bad perk.

She's not heavy, she's my baby...

Today Sophie spit up on my shirt, and then as I was cleaning her, on my face, dangerously close to my mouth. And the oddest thing is that I didn't immediately throw up. In my old life even seeing someone else throw up often sent me hurling. Motherhood brings you a stronger stomach and a tolerance for all sorts of things coming out of your child, as long as it's your child.