Life stops for the mobile child. Or more to the point, Everything else BUT the mobile child stops for the mobile child.
September 1, 2011
I need 6 arms.
Or more.
I may need more.
Never have I been so acutely aware of the fact that one child outnumbers a set of parents.
Perhaps I should have been alarmed when the doctor said, “She’s the busiest baby I’ve ever seen in all my years of practice!”
But mostly I felt proud.
Maybe I should have known something was bound to be wrong with a child that will eat anything put in front of her – she doesn’t turn her nose up at any kind of food. It’s all fair game.
But I was just so happy she didn’t have the weight problems that some of my friends’ babies have.
But now.
Now everything she sees is Food.
Those with children are laughing, thinking that that’s how every baby views the world.
But no! I can assure you! I’ve done this before.
This is DIFFERENT.
She Jedi mind tricks the world around her into shedding the normal physical rules that define it.
The basket across the room containing all of the things I must pack for our move – because we are moving – what a better time to move than JUST after your baby has become mobile… But that basket? The one with the Things? The Things She Cannot Have Without Threat of Death?
You blink and it has crossed the room to her.
There is no other explanation to explain the handfuls of the Things protruding from her mouth.
For she has not moved.
You know she hasn’t.
You’ve been staring at her the whole time.
Except for the involuntary blinking that comes with having eyes and eyelids to blink.
But surely no MORTAL baby could have moved so quickly?
But she has.
Note the paper that she has brought over to her toys. The blankets in the background that she has dragged around. The box that she dumped over and unpacked. And this is just the Mostly Untouched side of the room.
Oh. Did I not mention that this wonder being was SICK while she was running around so crazily?
Note the snot.
Today was only half speed.
Lord, help me.
I’ve given birth to a Tasmanian Devil on speed.
Gone are the days when I can visit the dollar store and walk out happily with a $1 plastic toy.
I don’t know when exactly I became the expensive adult that I am, only that when I look around, my toys are extensive. And expensive.
Recently my dear husband and I splurged on a new Canon camera.
A $1000 camera.
Very unlike the $200 camera I purchased on my own a few years ago.
Sure, we have the means.
And apparently had the opportunity.
Which is bad with us, because we are good at making the most of our opportunities.
And couldn’t even manage to leave the parking lot of the camera store to sleep on the decision.
But. That being said, we’ve made the most of our new toy and our ability to learn anything techy with enough time…
And have started getting ‘lifestyle’ shots that show our day to day activities much more clearly than our stupid iPhone cameras can.
Yes, this entire post was for posting Molly pictures.
So sue me.
the new joys.
February 13, 2011
Hi.
First off, let me introduce myself.
I’m Lish – the person that used to write here, that got knocked up, VERY pregnant and eventually had a baby that has been eating up all of her time.
Actually, the baby has been eating everything.
She – her name is Molly – is a comfort eater and apparently I’m the best shaped pacifier in the known universe.
I’d feel flattered, but the lack of sleep just makes my brain mushy and mostly my biological clock just likes to jump out and cuddle her big ole baby cheeks.
I think I could fit her whole face in my mouth if I didn’t think the authorities would consider that child abuse.
But really, can you blame me?
Molly and my husband's creepy toes.
Pay no attention to Nick’s creepy feet. He can’t help it.
Unfortunately for her, Molly has inherited them – luckily they’re cute when you’re only 5 weeks old.
Yep, 5 weeks.
5 weeks since one of the most memorable days of my life.
The Day of Pain.
The day the epidural phoned it in. Which isn’t true, but had they checked me before they’d given me the epidural I’d have had to go au natural – as it was, the thing didn’t kick in until about 7 minutes after she was born, but that just means I didn’t feel my stitches and didn’t have to walk for the first hour or so.
NIIICE.
I won’t really describe the event, except to say that being able to feel enough that I could tell her head was out while her body kicked on the inside is in the category of FREAKING WEIRD.
Now that I’m over feeling like I’m dying, I totally dig that memory.
So far Molly is a dream baby.
She rarely cries, sleeps 4 hours at a stretch, is cheerful and easily entertained and is just so chill about everything that comes up.
I think I could have a million of them just like her if I could avoid the pregnancy bit, but so far everyone tells me that’s sort of a requirement.
Darn it.
So I’m enjoying this staying at home bit.
Though my youngest would trade me for her daddy at every point in the day but dinnertime, I think that bonding with her like this is going to remain on the list of top favorite things I’ll experience in my life.
I wish I’d had this chance with Abigail – but life is life is life.
And life is good.
Busy and very good.
In fact, I’m being paged right now.
For the next thirty minutes or so, she’ll LOVE me.
