76 degrees

We took Birdie to the park today.  

I dressed her in a tank dress and hat (for sun protection, not warmth.)  

I miss living in California.

Birdie

My daughter is fearless, and though she could rival any drunk penguin in a walking competition, when she's really excited her little legs move quicker than her balance can keep up with.  Her poor head usually suffers in some way.  I know bumps, scrapes, and bruises are all part of the deal, but I just feel so bad for her when she tumbles headfirst into nothing (or worse, headfirst into something.)  All in all, she is getting pretty good with her walking and has not crawled at all since her birthday.  Apparently, crawling is so eleven months.

Birdie is in love.  She has her own baby and she is a fantastic mommy.  She is sure that her baby is always dressed appropriately (no hat needed, and do NOT try to sneak it back on) and that she is jammed in her stroller/walker safely (head-first = ok; two legs in one leg hole = ok) and she is never without LOVE.  Birdie has learned how to give LOVE and if you are the lucky recipient of a kiss, watch out for the tongue (we're going to work on that before school, I swear.)  Having so many pets, we've tried to teach about gentle petting from a very, very early age.  It has worked.  Mostly (who doesn't enjoy the occasional slightly-harder-than-gentle tap?)  She regularly pets the pets, her stuffed animals, her babies, and us.  I love baby love.  Chubby arms around my neck for a tight hug are the best thing ever.

Birdie can dance the rhythmic baby squat.  It's beyond cute.

I came into the room I have her PnP set up as I heard some sounds alerting me that she was awake.  From the doorway, I saw the kitten sitting on the floor in front of the PnP, and the baby sitting inside facing the kitten with a blanket over her head.  Apparently I interrupted a delightful game of peekaboo.

I hate teething.  Teething is from the devil.

I have still managed to resist all attempts made by enthusiastic friends and relatives to give Birdie a french fry.  I don't care if "she would like it."  She has her whole life to eat crap, I'd like to keep her as ignorant as possible as long as I can.  I love that she loves plain cheerios and doesn't need the flavored ones.  I love that she'll eat as many blueberries as I'll give her.  I feel good seeing her drink a cup of water.  We have friends who smirked a laughing parental smirk when I told them the types of things she eats.  "Just wait till your second," the father said, "with the first you make it all yourself, but by the second, you're telling them to microwave her own hot dog for breakfast!" Could be.  But for now, we're doing it this way.

She likes to be flipped upside down.  Repeatedly.

Birdie likes to bring me things.  Sometimes it's her own toys, plastic dishes, bits of shredded kleenex or toilet paper, or teensy blades of grass she found on the floor.  Sometimes she just likes to pretend to hand me things.

My daughter has a TEMPER and she gets ANGRY.  She has been known to pound her tiny fist furiously on a table or highchair tray if denied the object of her desire.  She is currently perfecting her temper tantrum skills.  She can arch her back, wriggle out of a hold, make all or part of her body perfectly rigid, and she can do it while screaming, sobbing, or both.

She can stick her tongue out and wiggle it around.  She can cluck and click.  She can shake her head no.  She likes to brush her teeth with me.  Even though she's still pretty bald, she pretends to comb her hair.  She can show you her new shoes.  She likes to read and climb stairs and growl and laugh and wave to strangers.  

She is obsessed with the phone and will stare at anyone she sees talking on one (and then point and say "nuh! nuh! NUH!" until you acknowledge the presence of a phone.)  She knows where all our phones are and where they are at her grandparents' houses.  Having a cell phone in her hands will nearly always stop a fit, but it will prevent some of your buttons from working in the future if they get too slobbered/chewed.

Her favorite word is still mama.

We went to an awesome Christmas house (it was featured on HGTV) and she stared in awe at the lights and squealed with delight at the reindeer.  She loved watching the train and listening to the music.  When we visited Santa she was more impressed by the big tree than the big man.  She didn't cry, but she didn't smile either.

She can squat, bend down, and pick up her sippy cup with just her teeth.

She's sweet and smart and strong and funny and curious and soft and squishy and wonderful.

I love her and I can't imagine my life without her in it.  I hope she always knows.

The Very Best Place and Time to Get Stomach Flu. Ever.

I had the worst flight(s) of my life on Tuesday.

I'd like to issue a public apology to those on the flight(s) with me.  I know that must have been disgusting for you.  If I had any idea at all that was going to happen to me, please believe I never on a billion years would have gotten on the plane.  Believe me, no one likes to have to use a two three barf bags and certainly no one wants to throw up so violently that they miss the bag and puke on their own pants and shirt and jacket on the first leg of their trip.  I'm not even going to discuss the other ways stomach flu on an airplane can be less than comfortable.  Thank you, Mr. Flight Attendant, for not making me feel any more humiliated than I already did.  And thanks for watching my daughter.

PSA:  There's a very nasty stomach flu virus going around, particularly in NM and TX.  Wash your hands thoroughly and often and avoid small children.  Or just wash, your call.

halfway there

I am really, really glad I have friends in Texas!  I think everyone had had enough of the car and hotels and the being strapped in and the strange smells and not-my-beds and off-schedule eating...

I am also really, really glad to be able to visit friends!  Having a great time here.

The next part of the plan involves the adult humans splitting for further travel.  I'll be flying with Birdie and P will drive the rest of the way with all four critters.  P's dad thinks we need a psych consult.  I think we just need to keep a sense of adventure (and humor!) and a little luck in the sleep department wouldn't hurt either!

holiday insanity

cross-country trip...

2 cats

2 dogs

1 baby

solo

P took Birdie to the grocery store.  By himself.  For the very first time.  And it was his idea.

I don't know what to do with myself!  I've already vacuumed the upstairs and now I'm having a chipsandsalsa break.  I think I'm going to turn the stereo up.  LOUD!

impotent

I've been away.

My ILs have no computer.

No one in their neighborhood has wireless to steal.

Dark ages.

Glad to be home.

one more wake-up

Tomorrow my baby will be one.  

That is all.

YAY! (I hope.)

Guess what? Speaking up works!

My balloons (not just any ole latex balloons, btw - I'm very afraid of those - these are 30" mylars) are going to be expressed here, hopefully by noon on Saturday.  Just barely makes the cut, but in this case, barely works!  Now, everyone just has to do as they said they would.

I'm sure she doesn't read my blog, but huge thanks to A.L. in Brooklyn for helping me get this fixed!  I hope your child loves the Sesame Street balloons you picked as well - they're in the mail!

I'm sure it seems silly to get all worked up over something like this, but... sorry, can't be helped.

pissed.

I won two large mylar balloons on e.ba.y for Birdie's birthday.  

I got balloons in the mail today but they aren't mine.

I doubt it's fixable before Saturday.

PMS defined

The firm belief that the universe is conspiring to piss you off.

is it awful...

...that I miss my husband even more when he's away and the weather's bad and I have to take out the dogs?

Here's the thing:

I know I'm vague.

I don't share everything on this blog because I'm just not comfortable with doing so, regardless of how "anonymous" it may appear.  Some of you know more about me and my family.  Chances are, if I've emailed with you I consider you a friend.  I'm just not comfortable having too much out here for all to read forever.  I also try to only write things that I'd be ok with P reading.  Obviously that's limiting, especially when he's the problem (sorry, sweetheart) because I could really use a good vent now and then.

Life here is stressful.  We're dealing with several monumental changes at once and it's putting a lot of strain on us individually and as a family.  While I'm confident we can and will make it through, for now we're currently living life on a roller coaster. On thin ice.  At the edge of the world.  (Sort of like the Grinch and Max and the sled full of stolen Whoville gifts and goodies.)  For someone who thrives on routine and predictability and planning ahead, this is particularly rough.  

I wish I could tell you more.  I wish I could tell you everything.  Thank you for being there for me anyway.

being grateful

he turns my heated seat on in the car when we're going out together.

he bought me a book because he knew I finished my last one.

he recorded a show, just for me (not him) because he thought I'd like it.

I meant to tell you

Birdie was a black cat like our Big Kitty for halloween.  She thought it was hilarious, and since the words she has said so far include: mama, dada/yaya, bubba (Big Kitty), meh (the kitten) and "meow" we thought the kitty thing was appropriate.  

We took her to a mall so she could see the kids all dressed up (we don't get trick-or-treaters here.)  Of course, she refused to say "meow" for anyone.  At first, she just gave everyone a cold stare.  She eventually warmed up and gave huge smiles and reveled in the joy of people telling us and her how cute she was.  

Then she wanted to practice her walking.  At just that time a giant Dunkin' Donuts Donut Man came along.  Our little Birdie was soooooo excited and tried to get to him/her/it.  She's not a great walker yet though, so we toddled hands and fingers down the mall walkway at a remarkably slow pace for people chasing someone.  Hearing my little girl squeal with delight and YELL as she "chased" a giant donut was pure comedy.  Best Halloween Memory. =)

generally annoyed

at my husband.  not going to list my grievances.  they're mostly petty.  but i'm still annoyed.

We (ok, I) voted "NO" on the first birthday sugar coma

If you know of any good cake (or possibly bread) recipes appropriate for a baby (or, *sniff* toddler) feel free to share.  

I do have access to google, and can search myself, so I'm really just looking for recipes YOU have had personal experience with (as opposed to random links you've found.)

Apple is a strong favorite here, and though I'm hoping to limit sugar and eggs, using them minimally will be fine.

Thanks!

she's ba-ack

I think the endo is back.  I'm starting to experience some pain issues again.  I'm also pretty sure that I have a cyst.  What this means for my current and future fertility and family-building is... the ten-thousand dollar question.  I have tons of other things to worry about right now, but I wouldn't be a good infertile if I didn't devote at least some of my worries to the status of the mess down yonder.  I could do without the pain though.

points of interest

Open House #1:  done!  I hear (from my neighbors, who were counting people) that there were tons of people here.  Only time will tell if that translates into (good) offers.

Weekend Trip:  we went to visit P's parents.  While there, P's grandfather died.  They weren't close, so he's not particularly sad or anything, but it did make it a different sort of visit.  Birdie helped distract everyone.  She is not currently a good traveler.  She does not sleep well at all in strange places, no matter how much I try to make her environment seem like at home.  She's just sensitive to changes in her routine, I guess.  I am not in love with middle-of-the-night screaming that lasts for a million years, even though I understand the problem.

Birdie:  big day today - Birdie took her first unassisted step.  She's been cruising for a while now and standing on her own, so I knew it was coming.  I still want to cry though!  My baby is getting so strong and independent (just as she should, I know, but still...)  She's in love with pointing and we spend lots of time pointing at things, naming them, and giggling about it all.  She has decided that she no longer cares for pureed veggies, and is currently in love with cheese.

My grandma:  is in the hospital.  She had surgery recently and is not recovering as well as we were hoping.  There's nothing that my being there would accomplish, but I still feel bad being so far away.  She will probably recover fully, it's just not going very quickly.  And it's not easy to watch in the meantime.

psychoanalysis? no need, i think it's pretty clear!

The dream version:

P left us on the way home from a long trip to go fight a fire.  Birdie climbed out of her carseat and got into my seat with me and climbed up my face.  We were almost home and we would have made it if there had been two adults, but I had a challenging time driving with a baby on my face.

What really happened:

I woke up to a scream from Birdie's bedroom at 5am (she gets up between 7-8.)  Usually I wait and see if she'll go back to sleep, but in my sleep-daze, I jumped up and went right to her and scooped her up out of her crib without thinking.  I realized what I had done and fed her and rocked her a little and put her back in her crib.

She did not fall back asleep.  She moaned and whined for a half an hour.  I tried to sleep through it (yeah, I'm awful.)  P did sleep through it (the whole thing.  he usually does.)  At about 5:30, I went and brought Birdie to our bed.  I offered her a nice full boob and hoped for sleep.  I drifted a bit (I was so very tired) and managed to fall asleep enough to dream sometime in the 6 o'clock hour.  I woke up with one hand clutching a handful of Birdie's sleepsack and the other brushing a baby off my face as P slept peacefully next to us.