beanski

seven months

Seven-month-old babies lull you in to a false sense of security that having babies is all fun and downright easy. They go to bed on time. They wake up on time. They smile and act cute pretty much all of the time. They still take fairly long naps and when they are awake they'd rather hang out in their Exersaucer or Jumperoo and explore by themselves than have you entertain them all day every day (unlike those much younger and much needier four-month-olds). Their sounds are downright hysterical and they attack everything with gusto. See that water bottle over there? I MUST have it! I will grunt and screech with excitement until it has finally reached my mouth at which point I will get a look on my face like I have conquered the world. They are still trying new foods so at least a few times a week their parents get the excitement of watching their face either wince in disgust or smile with pleasure at something brand new. The problem with all of this is that it makes me think "I want another baby. I want five more babies." At least once a day. I had always wondered how people could let themselves have babies super close together but I'm starting to understand it. How could you not want five of the little monsters after watching one particular monster do the cutest stuff day in and day out? Luckily, I have nephews. I will not be fooled by her cuteness. I understand that this super fun and easy stage will be followed by something horrible like teething, sleep problems and GASP, crawling. In any case, she makes every day the most fun day of my life.

Alert the media, Renee rolled over this month! A little slow to the draw but she came around. Sitting up like a big girl is all the rage at our house right now. She can hold herself there for five or ten minutes...just long enough for me to get convinced that I can wander in to the kitchen for some cheese and crackers until I hear CRASH followed by some wailing. When I leave the room now, I have to worry about whether she'll get her sock off of her foot and in to her mouth fast enough to choke on it before I can get back.

She's NOSY with a captial N. If she's eating and Ski does so much as coughs she'll stop everything she is doing to turn and find out where the noise came from. I can't walk in to the other room without her jerking her head after me and giving me a look that says "Just where do you think you're going?" I think this is the precursor to the WHY? she'll ask me seven hundred times a day when she's two.

She still LOVES to eat and moans pretty much steady from the second I put her in her high chair until I wash her face off. Speaking of which, she no exception to the rule and hates to have her face washed like every other kid. I have been making baby food like a mad lady. It took one smell of the meat in a jar for me to know that was not for me. It is no wonder kids won't eat anything when they are toddlers when they start out eating chicken out of a jar. No thank-you. So far I've made sweet potatoes, carrots, green beans, butternut squash, avocados, bananas, pears and blueberries and she's gobbled them all up. Pears are the smash hit though. She looks at me like she won the lottery when I give her the first bite of pears. She hates peas. Real or out of a jar, she's not interested. She gets it in her mouth, flares her nostrils and looks at me like, "Seriously lady, what are you trying to do to me?" Then she promptly pushes every last drop back out. I think that it is funny because I don't like peas either. My husband can attest that I pick every last one out of my tuna salad.

I call her Monster most of the time and she still won't say Mama. The only solice is she won't say Dada either. Ha! We pretty much only get Ba. Ba. followed by some high pitched screeching. And once in a while she says "Paaasssst" which sort of sounds like a lisp. She's started hissing like a snake in the past few days so we'll see where that takes us. Daddy still calls her Little One even though she's not all that little anymore. I think he'll be calling her Little One when she moves away to college. She is in the 25th percentile for weight, 50th for height and 75th for head circumference. We got a good chuckle over this. Tall, skinny and has a big head. Her daddy insists that the big head must mean she has a lot of brains. She is a super genius, remember?

I absolutely love how she rubs her eyes and burrows her head in to my neck when she needs a nap. And how she sits and snuggles with me on the couch just after she wakes up. I love how she insists on turning the pages of her books herself and how she now recognizes stories from them. If I say "you're getting SO BIG" she giggles because she knows that it comes from Elmo. Or when I say "the BIGGEST tail of all," her hands start to shake with excitement.

I love how seeing herself in the mirror never ever gets boring and how she attacks each toy in the Exesaucer like it is her mission in life to slobber all over it. I love how a water bottle is much more exciting than any toy in our house and how she brings her blanket (or sleepsack) up to her mouth for a little snuggle before she drifts off to sleep.

I love how excited she is to see her daddy when he gets home.

And how she rubs her feet together whenever she doesn't have socks on her feet.

I love that her eyelashes are ridiculously long and that she already knows just how to bat them to get her way.

These are all of the things that I never want to forget. Because I can tell by looking at her that she won't be my little baby for long. On that note, with a heavy heart that sighs and thinks "I better enjoy this while it lasts," here is my favorite for this month...my favorite month so far.

cousins

Jen, Charlie & Sarah came for a visit this weekend. We managed to eat lunch out (twice) as well as shop for four consecutive hours. This is no small feat with a two-and-a-half year-old, an almost-seven-month-old and a five-and-a-half month-old.

I looked over at some point this weekend and my Charlie was standing smack dab in front of the TV. This is laugh-out-loud-funny to me. What a spaz. I have no idea why he has his pants unbuttoned or why he pulled his shirt over his head like that. He's a boy so I know why he has his hands in his pants.

Renee enjoyed getting her picture taken about as much as she did at Thanksgiving. Bless her little pea-picking heart. I don't know what the phrase means but I know my mom used to use it quite liberally when I was growing up. And that's good enough for me.

A kiss from big brother. Charlie LOVES the babies. He can't stop kissing them.

Speaking of which, here is Charlie & his angels. Ahh, isn't that cute? Get it? Charlie's Angels. I'm hilarious.

It was my mission in life to get a picture of Sarah smiling for my mantle. I won. She is no match for my shananigans.

The trouble is that I almost like this one better. Because she's giving me this look that says "Watch it, Lady or I'll have to take this thumb out of my mouth and WAP you." And she would. Five-and-a-half months and she's crawling. I mean not TECHNICALLY crawling but she can get from one end of the room to the other. I fear for the sanity of my sister.

We took some over-the-top pictures of the girls in a gigantic rubber ducky but I refuse to post them until I figure out how to fix the background in Photoshop. It could be 2009 but I WILL figure it out.  

the cheeks

I just want to squeeze them.

a day "off", part ii

Three months ago, I had a day off for Columbus Day. The day off was more work than play. Almost three months later, I had Martin Luther King day off. And it was anything but work. The two days couldn't have been more different. We had a girls day. It was so much fun. I've come to really enjoy these extra days off, just me and Renee. We took pictures in the morning, had lunch with daddy and went to the mall in the afternoon. I bought her the most hilarious bathing suit. We giggled. I ate chocolate. I didn't do chores. I gave her at least 76 kisses and 14 hugs. And told her I love her at least a dozen times.

friendship

I had this really good friend a few years back. We always had a BLAST together. Then we moved in together. You know how some people are meant to be great friends but just shouldn't live together? Yeah well, that was us. We moved out of that house almost five years ago and hardly said a word to eachother after that. Then, our mutual friend Davina got married a couple of years ago and we were both in the wedding. We started talking again. The men in our lives got along. She got excited when Renee was born. She understands that I've changed (it's pretty hard not to when you have a baby) and still treats me like she did years ago. We stopped in the cities on our way to my in-laws over Labor Day. We've been keeping in touch over email. This weekend, she and her boyfriend came up for a visit despite the fifty below temps. I made dinner and we just hung out and talked. We were going to play games and just ended up talking. For the first time since Renee was born, I didn't feel like an alien in a social situation. We stayed up until 2AM. We drank wine. And laughed. A lot. I haven't been up until 2AM since before I got pregnant. It was SO nice to feel human again. I was thinking all day yesterday about how weird friendships are. They ebb and flow. They go through transitions. There are periods when your friends change completely and the people that you hung out with all of the time yesterday are not the people that you hang out with today. But, what I'm learning the older I get and what I think is really neat about friendship is that the good ones always come back around. If they are your real friends, you may have slow periods and periods where you talk every few weeks. But they'll always come back. If they are for real. And that makes me happy.

hace frio

It is currently -21 degrees at my house. Without the windchill. With the windchill, we're supposed to hit -50s today. Brrrrrr....can someone remind me why I live here? I bought myself flowers yesterday to remind myself that someday there will be living things in the world again. I am partial to tulips so that is just what I bought. Ski came home and asked who sent the flowers and I said, "I did. The card said 'To: Gina From: Gina.'" He knew better than to say one single word after that. He just went about his business.

A little fellow named Sawyer at Renee's daycare caught the virus that has been spreading through daycare like wildfire and apparently stopped breathing. Luckily he was at the ER when this happened and is now fine. Scared the bejesus out of me. Renee has had a bad cough for like two weeks. So for the last two nights I've been in her room at least 20 times making sure she's still breathing. The bright side to this story is that Becky, Renee's daycare lady, couldn't even tell me about it without crying. She loves those kids so much. Who better is there to take care of my kid? No one, that's who. We sure lucked out with her.

I had a dream last night that I left my camera at a restaurant and it got all smashed up and I had to buy a new one. Darnit. That would be seriously tragic. My sub-conscious is telling me that I need a new camera, I think. I wonder if Ski will listen to my sub-conscious?

My parents just got back from Aruba and had a splendid time. I want to go to Aruba. I want to go anywhre it is not FIFTY DEGREES BELOW ZERO.

I was just going to get up off my ass and take a picture of the tulips I sent to myself. But I decided I'm too lazy. So that is that. Stay warm, you fools.

sippy

Sippy cups rule. As long as I'm laying down. On my back. And I don't have to work too hard. In fact, how about you just hold it there in my mouth and I'll gnaw on it? Thanks.

roadtrippin'

I think I've mentioned that Ski's brother Colin is marrying his lady friend Brooke this summer. July 12th to be exact. I am excited about the festivities. I love weddings, especially the weddings of people you will know forever. Because it's so fun to look back when you're 10 years down the road and remember the big day. I'm also not-so-secretly excited about the prospect of having somewhere to take Renee in an over-the-top frilly dress with sparkly shoes. I just hope she has hair by then so ribbons or barrettes can be part of the ensemble.

Ski and I sat down last night to talk about transportation logistics. Here are our options:
1.) Drive to Minneapolis, Fly to Cleveland, Drive to Canton
---Cost: $1,200
---Total round trip travel time: 8 hours air/airport, 8 hours car
---Total transfers of 716 pounds of baby crap: 10
---Ability to stop transporation device to feed/change/shush 1-year-old baby: 0
2.) Drive from Duluth to Canton
---Cost: ~$400
---Total round trip travel time: 28 hours car (plus x number of stops)
---Total transfers of 716 pounds of baby crap: 4
---Ability to stop transporation device to feed/change/shush 1-year-old baby: unlimited

I need someone to tell me I'm not on the verge of insanity for even considering driving across the country with a one-year-old baby. The eight hundred dollars in money savings aside, no matter which way I look at the problem, I keep coming back to the fact that if we drive, I don't have to transfer all of the baby crap a hundred times and we can stop the car and distract her if she starts screaming. I think if we lived in the cities or could fly directly to Canton, flying would be a no brainer but because of all of the sitting around waiting for the plane plus car rides on either side, flying will take almost as long as driving. One of my biggest fears in life is being stuck on an airplane with baby that is screaming and everyone giving me what-kind-of-mother-are-you looks. At least if she screams her head off in the car, I can crank my iPOD and pretend I am in California drinking a 15-year-old glass of Cab and not have to worry about pissing everyone around me off.

I have committment-phobia. I'm terrified of saying "we're going to drive" and then having it blow up in my face. Do any of you, my three readers, have any light to shed on the subject? What would you do?

fat post #1

I promised numerous fat posts this year in my mission to reclaim my former shape. Get this: THIS MORNING I ACTUALLY GOT ON MY ELLIPTICAL. And I managed to go two miles. Without dying. I almost died. But not quite. While ellipticalling, I read Deceptively Delicious. I think I should get extra fitness points for such a healthful read. It is my mission in life to trick Renee in to liking things that are good for her. I'm sure I will fail miserably.

The weekend was good. I turned 28 yesterday. It amazes me that 28 seems downright young but 27 felt old last year. I think it is because my body feels like it is about 40 from rushing around all of the time toting a 15 pound 13 ounce little person. She had her six-month appointment on Thursday, that's how I know she weighs precisely 15 pounds 13 ounces. I like my babies chunky. We watched the Steelers choke miserably. We saw Lindsey/Jim for the first time in months. We bought new furniture for our living room. I had french fries and carrot cake for dinner. Two of my guiltiest pleasures. Renee started gagging on peas. She liked them a week ago. This week she gets this totally disgusted look on her face and gags. The little drama queen.

My husband prides himself on making me totally absurd birthday cards every year. This year, the prominent image was this. I heart Santino Rice. I mean, Han Solo.

six months

A half of a year. Oh. my. God. Where has the time gone? I think if I could freeze her in time and keep her at this age forever, I would. She's so much fun. And still so stationary. Mobility scares me. Although it really isn't much of a concern for us because it is likely to be 2009 before she musters up the energy to even attempt to move. She's just like her father, I swear to God. She (sort of) likes trying to sit and stand up so I guess that's something. Minor victories, people.

Renee had a NASTY cough for a week or so this month and it was waking her up a lot in the night. And she didn't really want to go back to sleep. She wanted to play. I made the mistake of consulting my trusty "sleeping habits" book about it and they told me that it's common for babies to have a harder time sleeping through the night in the second half of the first year because they want to try out their new tricks like talking and sitting up. I am now living in fear. Oh, how I have gotten used to sleeping again and oh, how I do dread going back. My kid shall break the mold. I am bound and determined. She has also started pulling off while she's eating and looking up at me and smiling this super cute-yet-up-to-no-good little grin and then she goes back to eating again. Over and over again. While I do appreciate the fact that she's finally the one initiating the games and am in agreement that this game is much more fun than the "biting while eating" game, eating/sleeping are really not the time to play. I haven't figured out how to let her know that this isn't a super good idea or how to not laugh when she does it.

She has the cutest little laugh. She loves to play airplane. She loves to see her dad and I from different angles. She'll totally ignore me if I'm sitting on the floor next to her but if I switch so she sees me up-side-down or from across the room, she giggles. Pretty rad that you can see that far, huh? Oh, to be a baby where things like BOO! are downright hysterical. She also thinks the word "impossibility" is funny. I asked her if there was ever a cuter baby in the world and told her that was an impossibility and she laughed her head off. So I kept saying it over and over and she kept laughing. Her most consistent sounds are Ba. Pause. Ba. And AHHHHH.

I have been TERRIBLE about taking pictures with the holidays, Ski switching jobs and my job being CHAOS lately. I have my pictures organized with a folder for each date and I have FIVE folders for the entire month of December. And two of those are Christmas weekends with either side of the family. Sounds like a New Year's resolution. Take more pictures.

Don't mess with Texas.

The Santa hat...one more time for good measure.
 

She can reach the floor but still can't get enough leverage to actually jump.

In addition to rice cereal, she now eats peas, carrots and pears. We haven't met a food she hasn't moaned about. One of the kids at daycare asked me the other day "Why does Renee make so much noise when she eats?" I just laughed. She apparently likes it THAT much. Sitting down in her high chair to devour whatever we are serving is hands down her favorite part of the day.

Ski and I disagree about whether she is saying "I'm innocent, I SWEAR" or "If you leave the room I'm going to do something naughty" in this picture. In any case, it is my favorite one this month. I think we're in for it. Can you imagine the looks I'm going to get when she's a teenager? God, help us all.