Wanderlust

Today I talked to my baby cousin Colleen. She's 24, has a degree, and works full time but to me baby always comes first. We grew up like sisters, spending countless hours on the weekends and over the summers doing nothing and everything together.

She's on her way to Europe for a few weeks and wanted to say bye before she left. It's a bit of a habit that we have, even when life has gotten in the way of regular calls.

For just a moment I was wistful for my single days. I had been talking to my mom, lamenting the fact that this was my first time without a valid passport since I was 18. That's not so bad, but there is no need for a passport anywhere in on the horizon, when the phone rang.

My old passport is well worn and full of stamps. Ten years ago this month I got on my first plane to Europe. Two weeks of learning about social justice in Ireland. That trip kicked off visits to 25 countries over the next 4 years. Trips where I learned about the world and myself at the same time.

In those trips and resulting tales I inspired Colleen. After my mom she was the most interested in my pictures and stories. When Coleen started planning her first semester abroad she called me full of excitement. We talked packing, itineraries and hair. I visited Nice through her stories and photos. Then she thanked my for getting her inspired about studying abroad. And helping her mom to see that she would come home in one piece.

Now she's on another trip, making memories, ready to take pictures and bring back stories. I am excited for the experiences she will have.

I love my husband. My son. Our home. My life overall.

I also don't spend money I don't have.

But there was a little piece of me that wanted to jump on the plane with her and spend three weeks exploring.

ocho

Each day you manager to get cuter. And your personality explodes.

I was trying to explain your temperament to some ladies at a conference last week. We use a video that goes through temperaments- flexible, fearful and feisty. My dear, though i didn't want to admit it, you are feisty. I was originally going to say flexible, but you are flexible until you're not getting your way. Then we're all in trouble.

This is especially fun when paired with your 2 favorite things to go after- cords and plastic bags- and your newfound mobility. The rolling got us into a little trouble. But this week your Dad and I realized we are skewed. As if to celebrate your eight month birthday, you started army crawling on Monday. It's not all that efficient. Or graceful. But it gets you places.

The extension cord you Dad has been using for his computer has been your favorite goal. On Wednesday I grabbed a few things for dinner from Target on the way home. I absentmindedly put the bags down and then put you on your play gym 3 feet away while I grabbed your dinner. In less than 2 minutes you had grabbed a bag, turned it upside down and were vigorously shaking it. When we take these things away from you we get thrashing and tears. But we need to if you're still going to be with us long enough to read these posts.

You are getting stronger when standing. You look for every opportunity to pull up and then do your head banging bounce.

In the early morning when I bring you into our bed in the hopes of a little more sleep you look at your Dad and start babbling. Loudly. Definitely a trait you got from him. But you are excited to see him. I smile with my eyes closed, waiting the requisite 5 minutes before I ask him to please take you downstairs. The key seems to be gently getting you into bed already asleep with crossed toes.

In the past week food has also clicked for you. You've also done ok with cereal, but veggies and fruit were hit or miss. Maybe the ear infections played a part. You've averaged a tablespoon or so of solids until the past week and now you're eating three that and looking for more. So far we've covered sweet potatoes, butternut squash, green beans (your previous fav), bananas, mangoes, plain greek yogurt (wish we had recorded this one- best faces ever), carrots and applesauce. I think we should do tofu next. Dad does not like this idea.

Your father and I can't wait to see who you will become. It's exciting to see your personality forming. I will always cherish your newborn days (and that lack of mobility thing) but I'm so excited about what's to come.

Sewing machine love

Baby D is doing better, which means mama has time for crafting. Too bad the sewing machines are all temporarily out of commission. Yes machines plural.

Machine A was left in the basement of the house we moved into when i was 15. It's lived in Pittsburgh, DC, and Denver since then. I'd fiddled with it a few times here and there- all unsuccessfully. When I was pregnant and the sewing bug hit full force I took it in to see what was wrong. I can't remember the details, just the $165 price tag.

I went back and forth. I can get a new machine with fancy stitches for that much. But it's a solid machine with metal insides. I was talking to a coworker about this and another offered her grandmother's machines, leading to machines B & C.

Machine B- A Montgomery Wards machine, circa the 1980's. It does the basics well. At least until I took the bobbin casing apart to clean it and messed it all up. I only ever work on it when I'm ready to sew- aka impatient.

Machine C- is an old Necchi that has 10 or so programmed stitches. It does the basics just fine, but with a squeak that made me fret a bit. I oiled all of the visible parts, but didn't want to unscrew any panels (see machine B's story). In one of those round about conversations with the maintenance guy at office 2 he shared that he used to be a commercial sewing machine repair person. I asked about the squeak. He offered to take a look.

So right now the closest to working machine is sitting in his shop. Half naked and soaking in oil.

Baby shoes, a tshirt tote, my first quilt (getting the layers together) and so much more are ready.

7.5

The ear infection of doom. That, plus my slacker blogger style, has let your half birthday, first tooth, seventh month and so much more pass without note. The past 2 months have gone something like this:

Early March- cold of doom that you (and I) just can't shake. with a crazy cough on your side.

Two weeks later fever and a little vomiting joined the party. A Saturday urgent care visit revealed that your snottiness and cough were not a cold. Enter bronchiolitis. And as a bonus a right ear infection. We celebrated your half birthday one week later with antibiotics, bathroom steams and lots of cuddles.

Two weeks later at your well baby check you seemed to be doing better. Dr. D said something like 'the left ear is looking almost healed, that's where he had the infection right; before looking it up on the computer. I was confused, trying to remember all of my questions and keep your dad in check. I thought the computer confirmed the infection of the left ear and maybe I was just crazy. We headed home, your body responding to vaccine and ready to pop out it's first tooth.

The first weekend in April brought your first tooth! Also, mom specific seperation anxiety. As in your dad is holding you, I walk from the living room to kitchen, and you loose your mind. With our open floor plan you can see me the entire time, but there is something about crossing the line between the carpet and tile that makes you scream.

When you finished your antibiotics you had a small cough. Over time this escalated, sounding like something better suited to an old man who smoked. Another visit to Dr. D. The unhappy looking left ear from 2 weeks before? Full fledged infection. Enter boosted amoxicillin, because it was so close to your last dose.

Day one off antibiotics the cough returned. Day two brought back the lethargy then fever. More time with Dr. D. You screamed like you do with shots when he checked your ears. A third course of antibiotics. As a bonus we can't combine it with cereal. Your first diaper rash.

Back at the well baby we decided to take you off of the Zantac. Solids and age seemed to be doing the trick, keeping the acid at bay. Until you decided to go on a food strike. Combined with the dosing restrictions on antibiotic 3 we revisited refluxville. Yet another doctor's appointment, this one with a PA that we as a family despised.

So you're back on Zantac, on the antibiotic, and lots of ibuprofen to help you sleep.

Today is day 8. I'm hoping and praying that we can get off of this roller coaster. Though I'm not that optimistic.

Here's the thing though. You are the strongest little person I know. The morning of the initial ear infection diagnosis we were at the grand opening of our neighborhood library. You charmed librarians, ladies of all ages and a few kids too. You are a natural flirt and know how to work a room. In the six weeks since your style has changed but you melt just as many hearts. If I'm holding you you rest your head on my chest and shyly smile up from behind your mile long lashes. At least twice a week we are delayed leaving child care becuase someone wants to fawn over you.

You have mastered rolling. Turning too. Combining the two you've covered up to six feet. You've discovered the shelf under our coffee table, pulling books down one by one. Standing is your most favorite thing. The 5 year old grammar is the only way to adequately capture how excited you get on your feet. You pull up, squirm down from our laps, and refuse sit- bouncing with happiness until your legs give out.

You are happy. You are strong. Despite the battle between the bacteria, your immune system and the antibiotic support. You are full of smiles. Finding your voice and being the best baby in the world.

Even is we never get much sleep.

5

We're 5 months into this crazy journey. Five months of smiles, cries, wiggles and love.

You are finally out of 0-3 clothes. Like last week. I'll admit, I'm having a hard time saying goodbye to a few of my favorite outfits. Even though you're just moving up you have been putting on the pudge. At 4 months you got rubber band wrists and in the past few days your ankles have joined the party.

But underneath you are all muscle. You've always been strong, but your dad and I are realizing more and more how much trouble we're in for once you coordinate your arms and knees. Your teachers, grandma and anyone that has the pleasure of holding you gets a taste of your strength. Lunging out of our arms towards a toy, the TV, or even the daily activity sheet at child care is your favorite ways to display this strength. Most of the time you seem to understand this gravity thing and you grab on to a shirt or my hair to keep from falling.

On the movement front you're a bit of a tease. I've watched your turn from front to back and back to front. Multiple times on a variety of surfaces. But once you've done it once or twice you go on a strike for a while. I don't think you let your grandma see either in the week she was here. The one thing that will reliably get you roll is the TV. Two weeks ago you were sitting on my lap and got bored with looking at me. You craned your neck to double check that the tv was on and rolled off of my lap and into your stomach, chin propped on your arms to watch a bit of the news.

When it comes to sleep, the teasing becomes a bit of an annoyance. You sleep like a dream on your tummy. It's third to on me (like you are now) and with me. Once I know you can reliably flip yourself back and forth I'll let you sleep however you wind up. Until then I keep putting you on your back or side and you keep waking up. a lot. so much that I may have been too sleep deprived to write about your 4th month.

until this week where we got sick (and therefore weak) you've been sleeping in your crib. in short spurts, but there. all of our tactics (bed time routine, sound machine, the into the crib dance, holding your for 2 or 20 minutes after you fall out...)have failed us. you seem to understand when we're on the brink though. inexplicably you'll give us night with 3 hour stretches and we suddenly feel human again. if you're reading this as a teen I'd like to reinforce that last part. sleeping in 2-3 stretches of three hours puts us over the moon. because all of the other nights are so much shorter. good thing you're cute.

honestly, i wish we had a king bed so we could all pile in. but we don't. and your dad is scared you would never leave.

when you're awake and not tired you're an absolute dream. you love your toys as much as you have always loved people. you are still a total flirt. in your whole life there has only been one person who you wouldn't light up for- a waitress at a breakfast spot.

we're excited about you starting solids. and crawling. and continuing to see the little boy you will become.

Loosing Time

Twice in the past week I've lost my place in the space/time continuum.

The first was an epic fail as a daughter. My mom has a late January birthday. She was born in 1950, so it's always really easy math. Subtract 50 and you're all good. So one morning when I was feeling particularly on top of things I call my mom and ask how she feels about her approaching milestone birthday. She doesn't really celebrate birthdays, but there's something to be said for turning 60. Unless you turned 60 the year before and your idiot daughter can't remember that it's 2011.

The second instance also involves my mom. Hubby has a work trip so she's going to fly out for some grandbaby lovin and general daughter saving. The only hiccup in this plan is that my mom is a neat freak. She's in the 'my house looks like a museum camp' where my household is more of 'lived in' variety. Really lived in. It was like that before the sleep deprived, baby lovin, working full time state that is our life now...

So I made a plan to get things to the my mom can tolerate them point. Cleaning last weekend before my husband had friends over, a few minutes in each room in the evenings, the following weekend to dust/vacuum/mop, and then just keeping things maintained before she arrives the following Sunday. Except that middle weekend doesn't so much exist. My brain just created a weekend to get stuff done.

yeah

The bug is back

I'm a long time crafted, but during the first few months of Baby D's life sleep, food, and laundry kept me preoccupied. But the crafting bug hit hard a right around the start of the new year. So far vie sewn some wool longies, started knitting some wool shorties, hand sewn a stuffed bird, bought fabric and cut rectangles for my first ever baby quilt...and there's something that I'm not remembering. All of this during short nap times and punctuated early evening sleep.

Though I still have a lot in progress I'm off to my newest idea, making drool catchers (aka suck pads) for my mei tei. The baby carrier, not the beverage, though a mei tai would be tasty.

Crafting is just one more thing that work is interupting, but without it I'm not sure how I'd fund the addiction.