Maeve: Three months

Dear Maeve,

Here we are the three-month mark and that's the same amount of time most stores list as their return policy. Lucky for you, you're cute and we love you, so we're going to keep you.



This last month was pretty much the same as your second month, but with more alertness. You still sleep a lot and eat a lot and generally hang out with us wherever we force you to go. And as the third kid, we force you to go a lot of places. That's the funny difference between first kids and later kids: with the first, parents are crazy about the schedule, OH MY GOD THE SCHEDULE. With later kids, the parents are all, oh, she needs a nap? Just stick her in the stroller, she can sleep while we're out.

But you are starting to get yourself on a little schedule, despite being dragged all over creation every day. I usually have to wake you up to take Jack to school at 8:30 and you stay awake for about an hour before you go down for a three-hour nap. Up for an hour after that, then down for another two- or three-hour nap. Repeat again after that, then you're usually down for the night around 8 p.m. That doesn't mean you sleep through the night -- hahahahahahaha, good one -- but you sleep for a decent stretch of four or five hours before you need to eat again.



The sleep is still coming mostly in the swing, with your arms swaddled up tight. But I can get you to sleep in the bassinet for the first stretch almost every night, and the rest of the night is usually spent next to me in my bed. It's easier for me that way, because I can just nurse you on and off all night without having to get up out of bed. And we all know it's all about the maximization of sleep for everyone in this house.

The nursing has also settled into a nice little pattern, with you eating every three or four hours. But you've hit that cute stage where you like to pull off and flash a huge grin at me. Which is cute the first time you do it, but less so when you keep doing that instead of eating and I am sitting there with my boob hanging out waiting for you to get back on track.

The smiles were bigger and more frequent this month. You love to get your diaper changed, kicking and waving your arms and smiling up a storm on the changing table. I am pretty sure you would lie there all day if we let you, but that would probably take a pretty big chunk out of my day, so we won't be doing that anytime soon. But a baby can dream, can't she?



Another thing you love, which I do let you indulge in as much as you like (see: third child) is the bouncy seat. This is your refuge from Jack and Emmie and the only place I can reliably put you so no one can injure you in any way. I set the bouncy seat on top of the kitchen island, away from little hands, and you just kick your little butt off. You talk to the spinning fish and watch the bubbles intently. After a while, you tire of this and start to fuss, which is the signal to take you out and put you to bed. You're pretty easy to read.

The bouncy seat is probably the only time you don't have either Jack or Emmie right up in your face. They love you. Seriously, they can't get enough of you. Emmie in particular is so excited to see you sometimes that she jumps up and down. They both want to hold you and and show you toys and make you smile. Emmie runs over to where you are and yells, "Hi baby! Hi Maeve!" and giggles and grabs your hands and kisses your head and then my heart literally melts. You often reciprocate with a stare as if to say, "What the hell is going on and why are you so excited to see me?" I think you'll be a lot more excited in a few months when you can actually interact with them on their levels.



Just today you started showing signs of interest in tummy time, which means instead of screaming your head off when I put you on your stomach, you actually pushed yourself up on your arms and looked around a few times, then laid back down and sucked your fist for a while. You also were able to kind of almost sort of roll over once I put you on your side. I'm hoping by getting you into position, you'll get the hang of it and want to do it. But you know, it's a lot easier to put you down and have you remain in one place, so I am in no hurry to have you rolling all over the place.



I'm actually not in a hurry for you to do most things. I want to savor this little baby time. And it's slipping away so quickly. A minute ago you were newborn and I was bringing you home from the hospital and putting you in teeny little newborn onesies. And now you have outgrown all the newborn clothes and love to look around at the world and can hold yourself up when I carry you around. Next thing you know you'll be driving yourself to the mall.

But then I see you sleeping face and I realize you are still my baby. You smell like a baby and sigh like a baby and cry like a baby. There times I put you to sleep in your swing and I will check on you a few minutes later only to find you wide-eyed, just looking around. I always wonder what you're thinking. Do you recognize the things around you? Are you mad I left you on your own? Do you know I am coming back?



And then you lock eyes with me and I know you know the answer to the last question. Of course I will come back. I will always come back. No matter if you're sleeping or 50 feet away at the playground or at college. I will always, always be there for you. Being there for you brings me joy and I hope you realize how much I love you. With every night feeding and every diaper change and every bunch of kisses on your cheek, I am happier. I hope you are too.

Love,
Mommy

Maeve: Two months

Dear Maeve,

It's been two months since you joined our family and it's like you've been with us for two decades with how easy the transition has been. Sure, you like to get up twice a night to eat, and you aren't such a fan of being put down and come to think of it, you're pretty high-maintenance in the napping department, but other than that, you're quite easy to manage.



This last month went by so fast I'm not even sure what happened. Daddy started traveling for work four days a week at the beginning of your second month of life and since then, I have kind of lived in a haze of sleep deprivation and have tried to make sure you and your brother and sister are all fed, clothed and alive at the end of the day. So far, so good.



You've started smiling a lot more this month and you're so much more aware of your surroundings. You look around, stare at the banister (your favorite object in the house, even more than the boobs) and try to watch Jack and Emmie when they are running around like lunatics. You tolerate their frequent close encounters, which mostly consist of Emmie poking you in the face or trying to shove a pacifier in your mouth and Jack rubbing your head and kissing you. They really do love you and love it when you are awake and smiling. We'll see how much they love it when you start shoving their toys in your mouth in a few months, but for now, it works.



For the most part, your sleep patterns are still pretty awesome. You sleep a stretch of five or six hours overnight, mostly in the swing, but occasionally next to me in my bed, and still nap most of the day in short spurts. You love being wrapped like a little burrito in your Miracle Blanket and immediately start to calm down when we wrap you up. You also love being carried on my chest in the Moby Wrap. You love it so much you will nap several hours in it every afternoon when we pick Jack up from school and if I could find a way to legally drive with you in it, I would never take it off. That might be weird in the shower, but if it meant you would sleep, I would sacrifice. But if you're not strapped to my chest or being held, you're becoming less of a great napper. So wrap you up I will.



I also took my first trip away from you this month, going on a snowboarding trip with Daddy. You went to Grandma and Grandpa's house for the weekend and lived it up with bottles of pumped milk. When I came home, you stared at me for a minute like you couldn't believe it was me, and then you promptly started nursing and fell asleep. Welcome home, indeed.



You weighed 9 pounds and were in the 90th percentile for height at the beginning of this month and I estimate you've gained at least a pound and even more length since then. Your newborn jammies have been relegated to the "outgrown" bin and you fill the 3-month size out rather nicely. Clearly the breastmilk does a body good. And we were finally in a great place with the nursing until the thrush struck this week, making breastfeeding hurt just as bad as it did in the first few days of your life. Hopefully the gentian violet will do the trick without turning your face purple, but rest assured if it does, I will have the camera at the ready.



As the third child, you would think you'd be getting the least of our attention, but that's not the case. I love the time we have together every night after the big kids go to bed. You usually have about an hour of alert time every night and we hang out, me trying to get you to smile and you trying to talk to me. We play with your toys and read a few books and I smother you with kisses. It's great to have one-on-one time with you and get to know you and figure out what makes you happy. Plus, if you're not in the swing, you're pretty much glued to my body the rest of the time, so I kind of have to give you attention. Maybe as a third kid, that's your way of assuring I pay attention to you. But you don't need to worry, as the baby you'll always have a special place in my heart.

Love,
Mommy

Pump up the jam

Josh and I waited until Jack was five months old to go away for the first time. We went to Vegas and while I missed him, I realized it made me a better mom to get away for a few days and recharge. With Emmie, I went away for my sister-in-law's bachelorette party when she was three months old. Again, slightly sad, but came back revitalized. With Maeve, I'm surprised we didn't drop her off on the way home from the hospital and hit the airport. Instead, I waited until this past weekend, when she was eight weeks old, to head out for a snowboarding trip in Lake Tahoe.

While I totally shredded it on the mountain, I was also attached to my breastpump 24-7. After Maeve was born, I knew from past experience to start pumping right away to build up a freezer supply of milk. Because she was only eating 2-3 ounces at a time during the early weeks, I could stash another 3-4 ounces away. By the time we left last Friday, I had over 125 ounces -- a five-day supply.

But it's not like I could leave my boobs at home when I went boarding, so my pump made the trip. And it got quite a workout, considering I had to drain the boobs every four hours. The "kachunk, kachunk, kachunk, kachunk" sound it makes was the soundtrack of my trip. Wanna know where I pumped this weekend, in addition to the privacy of my hotel room? An airplane seat, an airport bathroom, a lovely airport nursery at SFO, the car and a hotel common area. All I can say is thank you nursing cover, because a woman pumping is probably one of the most frightening sights out there. Is it a cow? Is it a robot? And what in the hell is she doing squeezing her boobs like that? It's all kinds of sexy.

There's also no sleeping in when you breastfeed, even if your baby is 1,400 miles away. Without fail, my boobs wake me up after five hours. They're all, "Duuuude, it's time to get up." And I'm all, "No, I want to sleep more." And they're all, "Get up now." And I'm all, "Five more minutes." And then they mutiny, turn rock hard and I wake up in a pool of milk. Needless to say, I like to avoid that experience, so I just sigh and get up and pump at 5 a.m. and try to go back to sleep.

We're very lucky in that Josh and I are able to go away for short trips a couple times a year because we have parents who love to spend time with their grandchildren. But now that we've popped out a third child, the logistics are a little trickier. Three is really too much for anyone, well except for their mother and no one cares if I go insane, so we split them up. My parents took Maeve on her own, since she wakes up overnight and requires more intensive care, and Josh's parents took Jack and Emmie together, since they require more of a referee and chauffeur and less nocturnal visits.

We talked to the big kids on the phone every night because someone, who's name rhymes with yosh, loaded a stupid new server something or other on his laptop and for reasons I can't understand, it won't use wireless and a webcam at the same time. So we were forced to rock it old school on a cell phone, which disappointed Jack to the point of tears. Someday, I will tell him all about being forced to use a rotary phone with a cord attached to the wall and pay this crazy shit called "long-distance" to talk to people far away.

As I write this, I am sitting on a plane eagerly awaiting our touchdown in Chicago. While I had a great weekend, the best part of going away is coming home. Seeing Jack and Emmie's little faces light up when we walk in the door makes the early-morning airport craziness all worthwhile. Maeve will probably be nonplussed to see my face, but the sight of my boobs will make her day. She takes after her father that way.

Maeve: One month

Dear Maeve,

In the year before you were born, a lot of people followed an exercise plan called the "30-Day Shred." I am proud to report that your first month did not almost kill me like the exercise plan does most people. Instead, it was an awesome month spent getting to know you, the newest member of our family.

You came out on your own terms, a day before you were set to be evicted, and have continued to set the pace since then. You sleep well and eat well and generally go with the flow.



Your favorite thing is to be held. If someone is holding you, whoa boy, the sleep records you can set. You came home from the hospital sleeping six hours overnight and for that, Mommy is so thankful. You don't do it every night, but enough to make me not want to tell anyone about it, lest the karma bite me in the butt. Your personal best record was seven straight hours, but you did it sleeping on my chest, so I'm not sure if that really counts because I slept fitfully in mostly 15-minute increments. Since you sleep so well when you're held, we tend to hold you, well, all the time. Hence the reason you sleep approximately 22 hours per day.

If you're not sleeping, you usually have a boob in your face. The breastfeeding got off to a rocky start when you decided you weren't going to latch on properly and instead wanted to do it your own way. The way that caused massive pain, cracking and bleeding for Mommy. You'd think being my third baby, my boobs should be totally conditioned and a little latch problem wouldn't make a difference. You would be wrong. So we enlisted the help of a pro-fesh-ional lactation consultant, who gave me permission to use a nipple shield, pump and give you bottles for a few days and prescribed the magic Jack Newman's nipple cream. The cream worked it's mojo, you didn't starve or need formula and the nipple shield stuck around for about three weeks.



We're finally to the point where I don't wince and dig my fingernails into the nearest hard object when you latch on, so hopefully the breastfeeding will be smooth sailing from here on out.

Your first month was a little bit of a learning curve for everybody in the family. Mommy was figuring out how to get enough sleep and feeding you through the pain, while Daddy was trying to get to know you and spend time with Jack and Emmie while generally playing the role of Mr. Mom. Speaking of your big brother and big sister, they have adjusted pretty well to your entrance into the world.



Emmie is so curious about everything you do. When she hears me get up in the morning, she runs to the bottom of the stairs and yells, "Baby? Baby!" She loves to watch you eat and constantly gives you kisses. She runs around looking for blankets for you and at the slightest peep, she runs to me and wants me to come and pick you up. She also loves to hold you on her lap and calls you "Mafe."




Jack is so gentle and loving with you, it's hard to believe he's the same kid who can turn around and whack Emmie 10 seconds after he kisses you on the head. You are the first person he asks about when he comes in the door from school and he loves to crawl up next to me while you are eating and gently stroke your head. Tonight, when Grandma asked him if he is gentle with you, he replied, "Grandma, I do not hit Maeve, just Emmie." All right then. Guess you have an ally for life.

Your first month also found you opening Christmas presents and ringing in the New Year. Your Daddy is really excited to finally have a December baby and thanks you for the tax implications. It was weird to have such a little baby at the holidays, and it made Mommy a little crazy because it's also the germiest time of the year and I didn't want anyone touching you and contaminating you, so I kept you safely ensconced in the sling at every gathering.



Now that you are here, I can't imagine how we ever got by without you. Your sweet little face, your huge dark eyes, your little snort when you are really pissed off and hungry, your long skinny legs and penchant for sleeping with your hand next to your cheek -- everything about you is perfect. I had no idea what you would look like, act like or even what sex you would be, but you have exceeded every expectation I had. You are my sweet second daughter, my littlest girl, my Miss Maeve.

Love,
Mommy

Exponential fun

On several occasions this fall, Emmie spent a few days by herself at one of the grandparents' houses. Not because I like outsourcing her care, but because it was easier for everyone when I was unable to lift her or when we didn't want her to contract the Swine Flu of death. And hell, it was nice to only be responsible for one kid who is gone six hours per day and can take a shower on his own.

Jack was promised his own visits with the Grandmas when he had school vacation, and this week, he cashed in on one of those promises. He was spoiled rotten while Emmie and Maeve had sister time with mommy and daddy. Emmie was pissed and missed her brother dearly, so she was pleased as punch when he returned home this afternoon.

You would think that the addition of the third child would only raise the level of craziness in the house by a third, but you would be severely underestimating that. I am pretty sure that Jack's homecoming ratcheted up the crazy by at least 150 percent.

There was screaming and laughing and crying and tantrums within the first hour, and that was just mommy. The kids were even more insane.

Poor Maeve had just gotten used to the slightly quieter atmosphere -- I say slightly because Emmie can throw a tantrum with the best of 'em -- and now it's pandemonium again.

I am too tired to come up with a witty wrap up to this post, so we'll just abruptly end there. Sort of like my sleep schedule these days.

Now if you'll excuse me, I am currently trying to recover from bathing two children while the third one screamed bloody murder. The screamer is paying me back with a non-stop nurseathon going on three hours. And yes, I typed this entire post with one hand. Anything for you my readers, anything.

Mr. Sandman, paging Mr. Sandman

Why didn't anyone remind me about the lack of uninterrupted sleep when you have a newborn?

I mean I remembered that newborns sleep like 20 hours a day and I remembered that they eat like 10 times a day and I remembered that they do these two things at completely random and unscheduled times. But what I didn't remember was waking out of a sound sleep at least twice each night, sometimes more, and having to sit up and stick a boob in the baby's face. And then you have to sit there. And wait for the baby to take her sweet time eating. Do you know a newborn can take an hour to eat? At 3 a.m.? So you're awake from 3-4 a.m. feeding because the baby is too little to lie down and latch on all by herself while you go back to sleep?

Add in the 15 minutes it takes to get her settled back to sleep, three or four times before it really takes hold, and you're awake for two hours in the middle of the night. I can tell you, the ABC overnight news team is on overnight for a reason. They also show the same loop of news over and over and over. Also, I might want a new ab workout machine. It seemed like a great idea at 4:10 a.m. the other night during the infomercial.

So while I might shock you all by announcing I slept until noon today, it doesn't really count because I was up until 1 a.m. and then again for 90 minutes at 3:30 a.m. and again at 8 a.m. for 20 minutes to pump and hand Maeve off to Daddy for a bottle.

It's not the lack of sleep that's killing me, it's the interruption of sleep. I always get pissed when woken up -- ask Josh -- and tend not to make sense. It's even more fun when it happens multiple times over multiple nights over multiple weeks. For now, I get extra sleep in the mornings while Josh handles Jack and Emmie. But in a few weeks when he goes back to work I am going to be screwed.

That would be Jan. 11, when he starts a project in Washington D.C. Oh, did I forget to mention that? Right. Josh will be gone four days a week, leaving me home alone with three kids under the age of 4. One of whom wakes up multiple times a night and another who wakes up each day at 5:30 a.m. I told him I hope his company is ready for its health insurance premiums to increase because HIS WIFE IS GOING TO HAVE A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN.

The project only runs through the end of April. I mean, the first three months with a newborn aren't that hard, are they? (That sound you just heard was the sound of my soul being sucked from my body.) I am SO HAPPY about this development. The development I learned about three days before I gave birth. You can imagine my reaction to this wonderful news in such a hormonal state.

He can totally watch the kids via Skype when I need a few minutes to myself after dinner, right?

She didn't even buy me dinner

This afternoon, a woman I had never met before came into my bedroom and asked to see my breasts. Within 20 minutes she was squeezing them and it wasn't objectionable at all. In fact, I paid her to do so.

Oh the Lactation Consultant, she has changed my life. You would think after three kids, I could just throw a baby on the boob and be done with it. But then, you haven't met Maeve. Oh no, my third baby is out to make things as difficult on me as possible (see: worst two hours of my life in labor) and decided she was going to throw a wrench into the process.

It started off innocently enough in the labor and delivery room. Maeve latched right on and seemed to enjoy her first snack on the boob. As the hours went by, she was happy to oblige me when I stuck her on the breast. But there was a familiar little twinge, one I had with both Jack and Emmie. But I wasn't worried -- for me, breastfeeding usually starts with soreness at the initial latch for about two or three weeks, and then goes away.

I even asked the lactation consultant at the hospital if she thought there was a tongue-tie issue (where her tongue can't come far enough out of her mouth) and she said there wasn't, she just needed a deeper latch and better positioning.

By the time we got home Tuesday night, the pain was still there, but manageable. By Wednesday night, I was bawling because it hurt intensely throughout the entire feeding, on both sides, no matter what position or latch depth I used. I was crying because it hurt, but I was also crying because I was scared to feed my own child. Hormonal much?

Looking at my cracked, blistered and bleeding nipples (isn't that an awesome picture in your head?) and after using the jaws of life to disengage her from said nipple, I decided to pump for a few feedings to give myself a break. But how to get her the milk? I dreaded nipple confusion and didn't want to do anything to compromise her ability to breastfeed. If there's one thing I am good at in this motherhood thing, it's breastfeeding. Not to mention that a third baby doesn't have any other options -- there aren't enough hands to go around and certainly not a free one to hold a bottle while the other balances baby. So we gave her the milk in syringe. Just squirted it right into her little mouth and she was happy with that.

Now pumping is not pain-free either, but I control the level of suction as well as the duration. Imagine my surprise and delight when I looked down and saw the pump pulling straight blood out of my nipple and depositing it in the precious, precious breastmilk. Strangely, it didn't deter me from continuing. Failure is not an option.

However, this made me realize it was time to pull out the big guns and call in a specialist. I needed help.

Enter Judy, the Lactation Consultant from on high. She made a house call this morning and assessed the situation. And no, I'm not talking about that guy nicknamed "The Situation" on MTV's The Jersey Shore. She got right down to business and told me I had a bad case of cracked bleeding nipples brought on by a problem with Maeve's latch.

Turns out, my dear sweet girl with the tiny face has several strikes against her in the nursing column. First, she has a short tongue. Second, she likes to suck on her own tongue. Third, she has a receding chin. Fourth, she has a high, arched palate. Those aren't dealbreakers, but instead make the whole thing infinitely more difficult when it comes to getting the nipple correctly positioned as far back and high in her mouth as possible.

From the outside, her latch looks great. On the inside, it feels like a barracuda has gotten hold of my nipple and wants to make me its lunch. It's awesome. You'll have to trust me on that.

To correct these issues, she gave me some instructions. First and foremost, I am to to discontinue using the Lansinoh cream they gave me at the hospital and get a prescription for Dr. Jack Newman's All-Purpose Nipple Cream. She was so emphatic, I was scared to deviate from the plan. Second, I should feed Maeve from the breast only every other feeding, pumping the other feedings to give my nipples a break. Third, I should try using a nipple shield (a thin, flexible piece of silicone that prevents baby from having direct contact with your skin). And fourth, I should give it some time.

After helping me get her appropriately latched on for about 15 minutes, she concluded that things would start looking up as soon as my cracked, bloody nipples healed. Probably in a few days. Yay?

This evening, I fed Maeve from the boob tap and after struggling slightly for a few minutes to get her latched on, she settled in for a painful feeding. Not painful like yesterday, but still sore. Then I tried the nipple shield and it rocked my world. Sore, but no pain. Alle-freaking-luia.

Afterward I applied the new nipple cream and I am pretty sure the sky opened up and brought me to a new level of consciousness because the improvement in just two hours was like night and day. I want to make out with you, Dr. Newman. Call me. Love you.

Maeve wasn't bothered by the silicone sheath on her food source, so maybe we're on to something. I have very high hopes. In the meantime, I have new respect for pumping moms. Holy shit is that annoying -- you spend 15 minutes pumping, then 15 minutes feeding, then you have to go clean everything and put it all away and store the milk and an hour later at 4 a.m., you can finally go back to sleep. Or, you can stay up with the baby sleeping on your chest while you watch the dudes on This Old House install a new bathroom fan on the roof of a house in 10 minutes flat. If you are in need of such a project, I feel confident I can do it for you. At cost.

And sorry for anyone who came here looking for pictures of my new baby and instead found themselves armed with more knowledge of my nipples than they ever dreamed possible.

Success for the second time

Another kid, another year of nursing in the books. Emmie officially weaned herself last week and while I was a little sad, I am mostly pleased the girls did their job for a second time and successfully fed a child for a year.

She decided to start sleeping through the night last week and since her only nursing session for the last couple weeks had been at the 4 a.m. wakeup, Emmie effectively ended her reliance on the boob all by herself.

Because I had eased her back to once a day, I didn't have a single minute of engorgement. (Did you hear that sound? It was the massive clicking of the "delete" key by all my male readers.) I had pumped a little on our trip, just in case she wanted to keep it up, but she was fine with stopping two days after we got back and so was I.

But it's hard to get used to regular bras again. You try spending a year in what amounts to a comfy sports bra and then let me know how it feels going back to underwires and push-ups. Because lord knows, the deflation after almost four combined years of two pregnancies and nursing requires the use of some snappy lingerie.

Despite the loss of volume, I am happy things went so well again. I was definitely much more laid back about nursing this time around. I knew what to expect, what was normal and didn't need to freak out about supply issues. I pumped early and often to build up a freezer supply, which allowed us to take a few trips away from the kids and not worry about whether she would have enough milk. She never got a drop of formula, which was my goal going in. Considering I was chasing a toddler while nursing a baby, I feel really good about the accomplishment.

Of course my attempts to get her to drink from a sippy cup have been met with disdain and outright pissiness by her highness. So she gets her whole milk in a bottle. Yes, my breastfed child won't take anything but a bottle that someone else holds for her. How on earth did that happen?

Emmie: Twelve months

Dear Emmie,

Hooray! It's finally the big day, your very first birthday! A year ago you hadn't joined our family yet and now here you are like you own the place. You have changed all of us in so many ways -- all of them good -- and I am incredulous every day at the little girl you have become. If you don't believe me, just take a look at the pictures I took of you every day for the last year to see how much you have changed.



A year ago I was still pregnant, thinking I had several more days before you were going to make your appearance. But you had other plans and in a complete reversal of your personality, you took charge and decided you were coming out 12 days ahead of schedule. That might have been the last time you ever imposed your will on me, because since your birth, you have been pretty much the most laidback kid I know.

That laidback attitude was evident this last month when it came to your attempts at walking. You are so content to just walk along the furniture and then let go and stand totally still. You can balance now for 30 seconds or more on your own, but if you want something, you gracefully plop down on your butt and crawl on over to whatever it is that has captured your attention. We have tried to get you to take a few steps, but you either throw yourself in the direction of the other person or you get jello legs and crumple to the ground laughing. I think you're really close to walking, though, and it won't be more than a couple of weeks before you do.



Your first birthday was almost marred by a case of the stomach flu, but you rallied and seem to be fine today. Yesterday you threw up for the first time and it was a shock to me, as I came into your room after naptime to find you in three puddles with vomit all over your clothes and in your hair. But true to form, when you saw me, you laughed and clapped. The world's happiest sick child. But it appeared to be a one-time thing and after several rounds of pedialite, you were fine and back to normal by this morning. Of course you developed a runny nose and a case of the Mommy Clings today, so there's probably a cold on your horizon.

This past month also gave you your first taste of presents. Your Christmas was fun and full of gifts, but like most kids, you were much more interested in the wrapping paper and bags than the toys and clothes. Your brother was more than happy to both unwrap all your gifts and play with all the toys on your behalf. That's brotherly love for you.



The relationship with your brother continued to be a little sketchy this past month. You really like to watch what he's doing at all times, getting right up with him and looking at toys or books. Unfortunately, he's not so into that and he tends to deal with it by hitting, pushing or kicking you. I have resorted to telling him not to touch you at all because he can't seem to find a way to be nice to you lately. I know this too shall pass, but some day when you ask why we let him abuse you, please know we gave him timeouts each and every time he hit you. Really. But there have been some good times between the two of you, mostly at mealtimes when the two of you sit in your chairs and make each other laugh. You love to watch him and he loves to say silly things and make you giggle. The best thing right now is how much he loves to come upstairs when you wake up from your nap. He hears you on the monitor and when I say we're going to go up and get you, he runs up the stairs and throws the door open and yells, "Gooooood morning Emmie!" and climbs up on the rail of your crib and pats your hands. You smile like a ray of sun and laugh and I stand watching the two of you from the doorway, content to know that you do have some parts of your relationship that are working and free from violence.



Perhaps things will get even better when you can talk, so you can express your feelings to him. For now, you are a pretty complex babbler. You can say just about all the range of babble sounds from bababa to mamama to dadada to rarara to wawawa and many more. We're trying to teach you a few signs -- notably "more" and "all done" -- but so far you just think we're really funny when we do them.

You are still nursing twice a day at this point, soon to be weaned. We have a little vacation coming up in two weeks, so you'll probably be fully weaned sometime around then. For now, you are still nursing in the morning and at night, and you get two bottles of whole milk during the day. You are not a fan of the milk and it takes some cajoling to get all 5 ounces down. I tried to get you to move right to a sippy cup with the milk, but you were so violently opposed to the milk itself, I figured I might get a better response by at least letting you drink it from a bottle. Hopefully as you get used to it, you'll stop fighting it so much. But thankfully your dairy intolerance is gone. You now eat cheese and yogurt and drink milk, all without problems. That's great news for your weight gain, as you should be porking up nicely in the coming months with all that fat and calories in your diet. You're still pretty adventurous when it comes to eating, and your favorites are turkey sandwiches, pita and hummus, chicken, peas and avocado, but you won't eat bananas anymore unless we mush them up in a bowl.



The fun part about your eating, however, is that you have entered the stage where when you are done, you just fling it on the floor. So one second you're grooving on your little pieces of avocado and the next, you're launching them across the room like you're throwing out a runner at second base. Even your brother knows throwing food is not cool and is quick to point it out to me when you start doing it. I know this is a stage that does not quickly die out, so I am not looking forward to months of telling you, "No throw!"

What I am looking forward to is more sleep. In the last month, you gradually gave up your last nightwaking at 4 a.m. and started sleeping through the night for 12 straight hours. We put you to bed at 7:30 p.m. and are greeted with pleasant chatter and your crib soother music at 7:30 a.m. We go in to get you and are greeted with a huge smile and outstretched arms. I knew you would get here eventually, and I couldn't be more excited about this development. There are some rare times where I miss our middle-of-the-night co-sleeping, but mostly I enjoy the ability to sleep on my right side whenever I want. And you sleep so much better in your own crib, that it's the best situation for all of us.

People always make such a big deal over the first birthday. There's cake and parties and presents and pictures. Tonight you had presents and cake, although you could have cared less about the presents and cried when you ate your cake. Apparently we could have given you a jar of veggies and you would have been much happier. But you can try again tomorrow at your big birthday bash. But looking back, there has been so much to celebrate this past year, it seems silly to celebrate it all on one day. You have brought joy and sunshine to our lives each day. There is not a single minute that goes by that I am not thankful for you. You are a joy to be around. Watching you learn new things is so much fun, I see things from your perspective and learn new things myself. One of your favorite games is to give us a toy and then have us say thank you and give it back to you. Every time we give it back it's like you've never experienced such generosity and you get so excited. I love to see that joy in your eyes and I hope it is there for the rest of your life. You have brought me such joy and happiness and I genuinely like the little person you have become. You are a social little girl who seems very concerned about others. I think this will serve you well in the years to come.



I love you so very much and want only the best things for you. This past year has been an incredible journey and your second year is going to be even better. Thank you for being such a fabulous little girl. We couldn't ask for a better daughter and sister.

Love,
Mommy

(Just want to throw a note out there for all the readers... Could you please leave a comment for Emmie on this post? Even you lurkers out there -- you can make it your first comment! I am going to print out the post and comments for her babybook, and it would be great to have all the comments for her too!)

Random questions

So I have a bunch of weird unconnected assvice requests for you all.

1. If your child did not want to drink milk when you weaned them, what did you do?
We decided to give Emmie some whole-milk yogurt this weekend to see how she tolerated it. I am pleased to report, no reactions! Which meant we figured it was safe to see if she would tolerate a little whole milk. Unfortunately, she believed we were trying to assassinate her and violently refused to drink it. She would not drink it from a cup, she would not drink it down or up. She would not drink it from a bottle, she would not, could not, even with threats of throttle. So, uh, yeah. We're T-minus three weeks from weaning and she wants nothing to do with whole milk. Awesome! (She will, however, drink breastmilk from a bottle or water from a sippy with no problem. So I don't think it has anything to do with the container.)

2. How do you make a moist turkey breast at home?
For the second time on recent memory, I bought a high-quality, boneless turkey breast (paid 12 freaking dollars for it) and threw it in the slowcooker covered with chicken broth. For the second time in recent memory, said turkey breast was dry and awful. We threw out the leftovers it was so bad. Anyone know how you could possibly have a dry turkey breast when immersing it in liquid?

3. If you are a stay-at-home parent, do you get a "day off" each week? And if so, does your spouse get a "day off" too? How do you handle this?
Not that anyone in this house argues about who spends what time doing what. Nope. Everything here is sunshine and rainbows. In fact, I just got back from feeding the unicorn we keep outside. It shits money, too! We're just hunky-dory here.

4. I need to branch out in my designer jeans ownership. What brand can you recommend?
I am a devoted wearer of Seven For All Mankind. But I am in need of a new pair -- I'm down to my pre-Emmie-pregnancy weight and all my old jeans require the use of a belt or I flash the whole world my ass-crack every time I bend down. So wondering if there's anything better out there. I have Christmas money for new jeans that's burning a hole in my pocket. (Ha! Pocket, jeans, I kill myself.)

Assvice welcomed and encouraged, please!

Emmie: Eleven months

Dear Emmie,

We're almost there! You turned 11 months old today, which means we're officially in your 12th month, which means you are officially freaking me out with how fast you are growing up. Please slow down, just for this month, mkay?



What a crazy last month it has been for you, too. Your mobility has increased greatly, with you speed-crawling on all fours and cruising upright around the furniture. You've started to let go and balance for a few short seconds as well, so we're convinced it won't be long before you're taking those first steps. Your newfound abilities mean I can't take my eyes off you for a second anymore because if I do, you inevitably start eating road salt off our boots in the front hall or trying to lick your brother's potty seat in the bathroom or climbing up the stairs by yourself. If only I could put your growing independence to good use for things like folding laundry, we'd be in business.

A lot of that laundry I speak of consists of your bibs because you really get into your eating. This past month you started feeding yourself more and more and I would say you're eating about 90 percent tablefood now. You will eat pretty much anything we put in front of you, which is amazing to us because we had the ultimate picky eater in your brother, so the idea of a baby actually eating peas or banana in real-people form is mind-blowing. You love scrambled egg yolks, pancakes, hummus and pita bread, almond butter or turkey sandwiches and rice cheese. Peas and carrots are a big hit and I think you might actually lose consciousness when you see the wrapper for a cereal bar. You get so excited that you kick your legs and wave your arms and generally make excited noises until you get the first bite in your little mouth. You haven't had any dairy products directly yet, but you seem to be tolerating me eating more cheese and ice cream, so I have high hopes that we can introduce dairy next month with little problem.



You're still breastfeeding four times during the day and once or twice overnight. While I am looking forward to starting the weaning process next month, I am also feeling a little conflicted about it. I am not sure how we will eliminate these nightwakings you are so fond of without the boob to soothe you back to sleep. I was all ready with the cry-it-out earlier this month and you even slept through a few times, but then the illness train stopped at our house and it all went to pieces.



Earlier in the month, you were fighting off a cold that was mostly a runny nose. I thought you had kicked it, but it came back within a week. That time it also brought multiple wakeups in the middle of the night and a fever. When you came down with what looked like a mottled rash, I took you in to the doctor and they said it was a double ear infection. They gave you some Amoxicillin and you were good as new. Until a week had gone by and you were covered in a rash that made you look like a leper. I took you back to the doctor and he said, after one look at you, that it was a classic penicillin allergy. But your ears were all clear, so we were A-OK. Until the next week, when multiple night wakings, green snot and a fever once again made an appearance. Yet another trip to the doctor confirmed another double ear infection. I am really hoping this means we're getting all your sicknesses out of the way early in the winter and you won't have any later on.

Your illnesses made you a little cranky, but you were pretty much still your sunny little self. Even when you had a fever, you were always happy to smile and play with your toys and you even learned how to play peek-a-boo at the pharmacy while we waited for your prescription. Now that's what I call a good patient. You also still wanted to play with your brother, despite your sickness and the fact he pretty much makes your life not very fun right now. Ever since you learned to stand and reach for things, he has tried to protect his turf by pushing you down. He could spend half the day in timeout for all his aggressiveness toward you, so if you ever want to get back at him for this when you are older, you have my permission. He does love you, which he demonstrates by hugging you and kissing you and trying to share his food with you. But things are a little rough in the sibling relations department right now. I know they will get better and then worse and then better again. It's the ebb and flow of a family, I guess.



Even when Jack is trying to keep you down, you are such a sweet girl. You love to play with cars and trucks, but I am guessing that's because those are the toys that are always around. You love your dinosaur that you can put balls in and have them come out different holes. You're really into putting things into other things and taking them out again. You still love banging on your little piano and playing with a chunky magnetic puzzle. But mostly your favorite thing is to stand at the toybox, reach in and grab toys and throw them on the floor. You would do that all day if I let you. Which I don't, because there are too many toys laying around already and I might lose my mind if all of them were on the floor at once.



But even when you do something you're not supposed to, I find it hard to get worked up about it. Compared to the stuff Jack gets in trouble for at almost 3 years old, you touching the fireplace or throwing food on the floor is nothing. In fact, I sometimes just laugh at you when you are doing something you're not supposed to do because you are so not slick about it. When you start crawling over to the fireplace, you laugh and look right at me like, "Wait, watch what I am going to do! It's going to be awesome." Usually you accept your redirection without comment, but occasionally you get worked up about it and howl with indignation. That's when I tend to laugh, because really, when you screw up your little face and yell, it's pretty funny. I know that your indignation won't always be funny, especially when you are telling me again how we are ruining your life by not letting you date when you are 12 years old, but for now, it's totally cute.

My new favorite part of the day is when I go in to get you up. You have taken to standing up in your crib and looking at the door through the bars. When I open the door you get so excited to see me that you start shaking the bars and laughing. It's so nice to be loved so much. But I assure you that my love for you is just as exciting.

Love,
Mommy

Emmie: Ten months

Dear Emmie,

It's double-digit time for you little girl! A whole 10 months you've been with us. And wow, have you done a lot this last month. I am pretty sure this has been one of your busiest months yet.



Now that you've been mobile for several weeks, you're getting more and more proficient at getting around. You still army-crawl 99 percent of the time, but more and more, you are taking a few tentative crawls on your hands and knees. But the army-crawling gets you where you need to go -- and pretty darn quickly I might add -- so you really don't see any need to do it the other way. But you are a pro at sitting yourself up now. You started pushing yourself up from your side with one arm, and now you can back yourself into a seated position from your hands and knees as well.

You are also an old pro at pulling yourself up now, as evidenced by the fact I found you standing in your crib grinning at me about two weeks ago. At this point, nothing is safe from you. You pull up on the couch, the ottoman, the exersaucer, your crib, the fireplace and my leg when I am standing in your general vicinty. You once tried to pull yourself up on Jack, but he was having none of it and you just toppled right over when he scrambled to his feet to get away from you.



I have seen you stand unassisted for about seven seconds on a couple of occasions, and you're starting to cruise along the ottoman to get to toys or remotes out of your reach. You so love the remote and even know to point it at the TV when you are playing with the buttons. Smart girl, but don't even think about turning off the football game to watch PBS.

The vacuum is getting quite a workout these days because you are smack in the middle of the "put everything in your mouth" stage. Last week you tried to consume a plaster chip, a dried-up piece of pancake that had fallen off your brother's plate undetected, a torn-up piece of coloring book and 571 pieces of fuzz off the carpet. I could vacuum four times a day and you would still spot the teeniest piece of string from across the room and make a beeline for what you hope is your afternoon snack. While it is resulting in a much cleaner house, it's still pretty annoying to be fishing stuff out of your cheeks all the time.



It's not like you're not getting enough food at mealtimes. You are starting to eat more tablefood here and there, like pieces of pancake and turkey or scrambled egg yolks. I am pretty sure you would live on Veggie Booty alone if we let you, but you're pretty amenable to eating the two jars of baby food we give you at all meals. Because you still can't have any dairy products, we were lucky to find a new yogurt made from coconut milk. Because it's dairy- and soy-free, you are allowed to eat it and I must say, it's quite tasty. You gobble it up and look pretty content, so it's a good thing.

The breastfeeding has gotten a lot better this month after last month's distractable disasters. You are more on task and doing longer sessions, which makes me feel better about how much you are taking in. Of course, you are getting more in during the night because YOU ARE WAKING UP MULTIPLE TIMES AGAIN. To say I am tired of being tired is an understatement. This past week, you were sick again and that meant lots of wakeups where only the boob would console you. Because you were sick, I took pity on you and fed you every time you cried. Which one night was at 10 p.m. and 1, 3, 5, 6 and 7 a.m. It's like you were a newborn again. Wheee! But once you appeared over the worst of it, I got you back on a somewhat-better schedule by making you cry out the first wakeup. Last night you were awake for the first time at 1 a.m., which is better than 11 p.m., but not great by any means. You had been sleeping from 7:30 p.m. to 5 a.m. for a few weeks and I am hoping you will start doing that again. Real soon.



As for your sunny disposition, it continues to be the most charming part of your personality. You are almost always smiley and happy and content to babble away at your toys or your books. You stop to look at your brother like he is crazy whenever he deems you acceptable to play near. You save your best smiles and laughs for Daddy because apparently he is the light of your life. You definitely don't like it when I leave a room, but you can be pacified if Daddy is around.

One of the only times it is acceptable for me to actually leave you in the other room for a few minutes is when your brother is around. You love to watch him run around and play and now that you can get around, you really try very hard to play with him. He's not exactly keen on that idea, however, and it's led to some battles. Just today, you started to play with his garage and cars and he fuh-reaked out on you and you may or may not have been kicked in the head. He is having a hard time sharing, and will instead try to bring you some other toy to play with. But because you are so easy-going, you generally accept the substitute with a smile. You also get so excited in the morning when we go into his room, kicking your legs and laughing and trying to throw your little body at the door to get it open. He has been less rough with you as each month has gone by and he really does love you too. Just today when he got home from the park, he ran over to you and said, "Hi Emmie! Jack home from the park. Jack give Emmie a kiss!"



Every day I look at you and I think to myself, "I will remember her like this forever." And then the very next week, you already look different and I have forgotten that previous stage. I was looking back at some pictures of you this weekend from the previous months and I can't believe how much you have changed. You used to have chubby little baby cheeks at one point and now it's all dimples and cheekbones. Your little blonde hair is starting to darken up with the winter, and I think it might be a thing of the past soon. Your eyes are definitely settling into a nice shade of hazel, which proves to me I really was in the room when you were conceived! Finally, something that I can say looks like me, since you're clearly the spitting image of your father. Hopefully you will get my brains and good humor -- and humility -- as well. But whatever you end up looking like, I will always remember what a sweet, sweet little girl you were when you were 10 months old.

Love,
Mommy

Distractable daughter

I am starting to realize why I don't feel comfortable nursing in public, and most of it has to do with the fact I am not down with flashing the nipple at everyone. Which is what happens on multiple occasions during the same feeding these days.

For the last two or three weeks, Emmie has been easily distracted when nursing. When I say "easily distracted" I really mean "she can hear the whisper of a butterfly wing three houses down and must sit up to find out what is going on."

On, off, on, off. Five minutes later, she announces her intent to finish by arching her back and screeching like a banshee if I even entertain the thought of maybe possibly perhaps seeing if she miiiiiight want to eat a little more.

I know it's the age for this behavior. Nine-month-old babies like to look around. Everything is more interesting than eating. She's getting more calories from food and doesn't need as much breastmilk. Blah blah blah.

But I really can't convince myself that she's truly getting enough in four sessions a day, two of which consist of a drive-by nursing.

Emmie: Nine months

Dear Emmie,

Today, kiddo, you have been outside of me as long as you had been inside of me. Looking at it from the other side, I can tell you the pregnancy sure seemed a lot shorter than this. You have grown and changed so much in nine months, although I guess going from a couple of cells to a complete human being in that same time frame isn't anything to sneeze at either.



This past month has been one of the busiest in terms of development. You learned to stand up at the furniture, crawl and pull yourself up on things. The last two, you performed for the first time within 15 minutes of each other, proving the theory that Mommy can indeed spontaneously combust into flames. I was not ready for the motion part of this picture, and was hoping you would be content to sit and play with your toys for another two years. But you were ready and there was no stopping you. One afternoon you just decided you wanted to play with your piano, which was about two feet away, and you went for it. I cheered for you and clapped and made huge deal about it and you looked up at me as if to say, "What's all the fuss? It's just a piano."

But now that you know how to crawl, you realize that your mobility is somewhat limited. You want to go go go, now now now, faster faster faster. Now that you can crawl, you also want to walk. You're not content to hang out on the floor playing anymore, now you want someone to hold you upright so you can stand. Then you get tired of that and try to squirm away, where you would fall flat on your face if we actually let you twist your arms out of our grasps. It's a furstrating time for you, but this too shall pass.



These frustrations have manifested themselves in a high-pitched screech that only dogs can hear half the time. If you get pissed or don't like what we are forcing you to do -- you know, things like play with a toy you have tired of or spend 1.2 seconds longer in your exersaucer than you deem acceptable, terrible things like that -- you let out this blood-curdling screech that makes me jump out of my skin. It certainly gets my attention, since you used to be such an easygoing baby, and I usually jump to right whatever wrong you feel you are suffering. Which has set a great example for your brother, who has also started screeching to get attention. So thanks for that. Hopefully this phase will end soon and you will go back to your compliant little self.

Your independence has also extended to your diet. You can now feed yourself Cheerios, which you will happily do for several minutes, allowing us time to eat at restaurants without having to hold you or entertain you. But so far, it's the only finger food you have mastered, partly because you only learned to feed yourself about a week ago and partly because I am lazy and haven't given you anything else. You're still quite happy being fed baby food, although we're started to give you purees that are a little chunkier and with more flavors in the hopes of getting you ready to transition to table food in the next few months.



Breastfeeding has been a bit of a struggle these last few weeks. You've hit the age where everything is so interesting that you don't have time to slow down and eat. So you latch on, get in a quick snack for about five minutes, and then you're done. There's no coaxing you, no luring you back to the boob. Once you're done, you're done and if I try to convince you to eat a little more I am met with back-arching, red-faced, arm-waving, screaming displeasure. Which makes for a really pleasant bonding experience. But I know this is something that a lot of babies go through at this age and if you're not getting enough milk, you'll let me know. In the meantime, I offer it up as much as possible and humor you by letting you nurse once during the night. Of course it's this middle-of-the-night feeding that is always your best one because you're sleepy and there are no distractions. We only have three months to go, and I know we can weather this storm and get to my one-year goal. Like it or not, you're stuck with the boob.



You started sleeping through the night about three weeks ago, but I missed out on that fun because Daddy and I were away on vacation for a long weekend. You apparently took pity on Grandma and slept 12 straight hours for her. Of course when I came home, you discontinued that new trick and asked for more boob in the middle of the night. So while you don't sleep straight through, you are only waking up once and you are sleeping in your own crib for the whole night. Which is a pretty good breakthrough.



Now that you're mobile, Jack is starting to realize you are a force to be reckoned with. You can get to his toys, and he's not all that excited about sharing. So in his role as Arbitor of Toy Distribution, he will take something of his from your hands and replace it with something he wants you to play with instead. Usually something boring like a stuffed animal. Now I can't really fault him for replacing a toy, but I tell him he has to learn to share and let you play with the fun toys too. You're also able to follow him around the room now, which is freaking him out. But just this week, he was reading a book and you crawled over to see what he was doing and he "read" you the book. You patted the book and his leg and smiled and it was so nice to see the two of you playing together. I can't wait to see more moments like this. It's just like when the two of you are sitting in the dining room together while I get dinner ready and you make each other laugh. I watch the two of you and realize how awesome it is that you have each other.



Now that your personality is coming out, I am really enjoying hanging out with you. You like to cuddle and touch my face and now when I say "kisses" to you, you smile and lean in and lay a huge open-mouth baby kiss on me. When I go in to get you from your crib, you get a huge smile on your little face and reach your arms up while trying to kick a hole in your mattress because you are so excited. But there is still no one quite like Daddy in your eyes. You wave to him and flap your arms in excitement when you see him. You lunge for him when he enters a room and you always smile biggest for him. Your first word was "dada" and you often say "hi dada" when he's around. While I would like to hear some "mama" sometime soon, I am being patient because you have something different for me. When you see me come into a room, you make a noise that defies description. It's kind of like a whiny grunt. But you only make it when someone else is holding you and you see me. Once I pick you up, you calm down immediately. I'm so glad just being in my arms can make you feel better. I hope someday when you're older you will still feel like that. If someone makes fun of you at school or you fall down and skin your knee or you stick your foot in your mouth saying something stupid (not that I would know anything about how that feels) or you have a bad hair day, I hope a hug from Mommy can make it all better.

Love,
Mommy

Emmie: Eight months

Dear Emmie,

Today is your eight-month birthday. While it doesn't mean you have the right to vote or to drink a beer, it does mean you are now legally allowed to eat Cheerios. I'm not sure that's as momentous as turning 21 and drinking your face off in a bar in some college town, but it will have to suffice for now.



This last month has been pretty busy, what with a family wedding and trips to the lake and the completion of our new downstairs play area.

It's also been exciting because you finally started gaining some weight! Yep, that deserves an exclamation point because it's been a hard road since your six-month checkup revealed you were not gaining properly and were only in the 5th percentile. After we started stuffing you with solids three times a day and sneaking avocado and banana into almost everything, you gained 1.5 pounds in a month, putting you at a whopping 15.9 pounds, which is the 12th percentile. While you still have a ways to go, you are showing good progress, and we've got you eating two jars of food at each meal. I am pretty sure you will retain your thinness for the rest of your life, though, based on the skinny genes you inherited from Daddy. Which should help if skinny jeans ever come back into style. Yes, I just made a terrible pun. You can die of embarassment now.



You certainly won't need to worry about losing weight from all that moving you are doing. Because you're pretty content to not move anywhere. And why would you? If I'm not holding you, then you're sitting on the floor and your brother brings you your toys. You have no need to try to crawl. In fact, you must really not like the thought of crawling on your hands and knees because you scoot around on your butt. You stretch your legs out in front of you and dig in your heels and then pull your butt toward your knees, like some bizarre upright inchworm. You don't move fast, but you do move yourself enough to reach any object that catches your fancy. You also are grooving on the move where you reach for something, realize it's too far away, roll onto your back, roll back onto to your stomach so you've gone forward a few inches and reach out again. With your two modes of transportation, you can get pretty much anyplace you want to be.

You pulled yourself up a few times this past weekend, mostly from a sitting position on the couch with the arm of the couch as your leverage. You also pulled yourself up on Grandma, who was very excited to see such activity. But to be honest with you, I am nowhere near ready for you to crawl. Right now I can put you down on the floor with a few toys and you are right where I left you when I come back. Not that I ever leave the room. No, I am there watching you with both eyes 100 percent of the time. That's why it's so odd that you were able to launch yourself over the side of the bouncy seat in the kitchen last week and I found you hanging upside down with the seatbelt still in place around your waist. Can't fathom how that one happened.



I imagine the bouncy seat fiasco came about because you are getting extremely curious about everything now. You try to grab your food when we feed you, you want all of Jack's toys and you find the teeny tiniest little specks of crud on the floor and study them with interest. Right before you stick them in your mouth. It's so fun to watch you play now because you figure things out. You are starting to see how your toys work and different ways to play with them. You especially like standing up (mostly with our assistance, but sometimes on your own for a few seconds) at your activity table and moving all the buttons and levers and making the lights and sounds come on.


Your days of activity, combined with a little boost of Cry It Out, have resulted in much longer stretches of sleep at night. We've gotten eight straight hours from you several nights in the last week and you've definitely dropped the 11 p.m. feeding. Finally. It only took 7.5 months, but who's counting? The awesome part is that we can now put you down awake in your crib, turn on the sleep machine and the crib soother, and leave the room. Sometimes you fuss for a few minutes, but generally you are content to put yourself to sleep. You wake up once or twice during the night to eat, and I am fine with that for now. You're still breastfed on demand and you've settled in to a schedule where you clamor for the boob about four or five times during the day and a couple times during the night. We put you down for the night at 7 and you wake up for the day around 7:30 a.m. with naps at 9:30 a.m. and 2 p.m. At night, you wake around 1 a.m. and then come into bed with us for the rest of the night where you usually eat about three times. It's a good little schedule that is starting to work for everyone.


Your brother started school this month, just two times a week for two hours, and you seem to notice he is gone. You look around for him, but then are happy to go on about your busines, so you must not miss him too much. But you still adore him as much as ever. He must feel the same way because a few weeks ago, he said, "Love you Emmie" without any prompting from anyone. Just the other night you were sitting on the floor in the bathroom while he was in there and you were laughing these gut-busting giggles at him. Then he started laughing at you laughing, which made you laugh even harder. It brought tears to my eyes because I was so glad to see how happy you make each other. I know someday when you are annoyed with him as a teenager it will be hard to believe, but he will be there for you and you for him all of your lives. I hope you have the kind of relationship your daddy and I have with our siblings, because it's so awesome to have a built-in friend who has to put up with your crap even when no one else will.


This past month also saw your first foray into formal attire when you were the flower girl in Aunt Marnie's wedding. Jack was the ring bearer and he pushed you down the aisle in a little wagon and you two were quite possibly the cutest kids ever. You hung on and smiled and Jack stopped to ham it up for the crowd and everyone oohed and aahed over the two of you. You were so well-behaved and did a great job. But don't get any ideas that it means you get to attend any more weddings. No weddings for you until you are old enough to sit quietly and stay up late. So I guess that would be in about 11 more years. Maybe.


I have a feeling we are the cusp of several developmental changes this coming month and I hope separation anxiety is not one of them. You are still a pretty social baby, once you warm up to people. When you first encounter anyone other than me, Daddy or Jack, you turn your head into my shoulder and play coy. But then you peek out to see them again, and after a few seconds, you start smiling and interacting. The weekend of the wedding we left you with a non-family babysitter for the first time and you did great. You played and ate and slept fine, which was great because know we know if we needed to leave you with a sitter, we could. As always, the best part of leaving you is seeing you again for the first time. It's like you haven't seen me for months and you get your legs pumping and your arms atretching out for me and you make this excited noise that you only make when you see me. And it's the best part of any night out or any trip away. I hope you are always this excited to see me (although I know you won't be) because it's how I feel every time I look at you. I want to pump my legs and stretch out my arms to you and let you know how much I love you.

Love,
Mommy

Emmie: Seven months

Dear Emmie,

Today you are seven months old and I am pretty sure someone somewhere is skipping days on my calendar and not telling me because there is no way that much time could possibly have gone by.



We spent much of the last month on vacation, which coincided nicely with a major remodeling of the house. But as always, you were so laid-back and easy -- no matter where we dragged you. You spent time splashing in the lake, taking boat rides, playing with toys and hanging out with both sides of the family. You went on your first road trip, driving six hours to the North Woods of Wisconsin, and you braved it like a champ. You slept a lot and amused yourself in the carseat and were generally chill.



You started giving us a little baby wave this month, opening and closing your tiny hand, while staring at it in amazement. For a few days it was all you wanted to do, but then you kind of moved on and we get little waves every once in a while now. Just this past week you also started clapping. I wasn't sure you knew what you were doing, but we would clap and say, "Yay Emmie!" and you would stretch your arms out in front of you and start flapping your arms until your hands were clapping. You looked so proud of yourself, which made us laugh and clap even more, which made you laugh and clap more. Hours of entertainment, I tell you.

Your hands are still a source of great amusement to you. Every once in a while, you will be waving your little arms around and catch site of your hand and it stops you in your tracks. You will stare and turn your hand to examine it from every angle and start talking to it. I remember your brother doing the same thing, and it's no less cute the second time around with you.

You are starting to talk quite a bit now. We hear screeching and a lot of "ahhh" and "baaa" and of course, your first real-sounding word was "da." Come on! I am the one who feeds you, gets up with you multiple times a night and doesn't make you cry it out. What about some love for mama? Your daddy was quite proud of himself and said it was clearly because he is your favorite.

I can't dispute that as the evidence is mounting. Whenever you look at him, you smile and wiggle and talk and generally act like a smitten girl. I might be the food source and the one you want in the middle of the night, but if he's in the room while you are awake, I am chopped liver. I think you might be turning into a Daddy's Girl, but we'll see how that works out for you when you're 16 and late for curfew and a boy drops you off outside the house.



The last month was also kind of worrisome. We took you in for your six-month pediatrician visit and they were concerned you weren't gaining enough weight. Apparently, the tall-skinny genes from your father are kicking into full effect. We suspected a little silent reflux, so we gave you Zantac for a few weeks, with no improvement. They wanted to make sure there weren't any underlying issues, so they sent you to see a pedicatric GI specialist. His advice was to start feeding you three or four solid meals per day in addition to breastfeeding on demand. So you went from a little oatmeal with fruit once a day to eating three meals with either banana and avocado mixed in to pump up the fat content. They asked me how committed I was to breastfeeding on a scale of 1 to 10 and I said definitely a 10. I don't want to give you formula if I don't have to, so I am happy to not eat dairy to keep your tummy happy. I am convinced you're just skinny, and they noted you are meeting all your milestones and are such a happy baby, so I am not worrying about it. You'll gain weight on your own pace.



Now that you have mastered sitting up and you can roll to the location of your choice in the room, things are getting interesting with your brother. You are a lot more into toys and inevitably, you both want the same one. I hear a lot of "No, Emmie, no!" coming out his mouth these days. It's mostly him ripping interesting toys out of your hands, which he then substitues with some discarded toy he doesn't want to play with, but every time it happens I feel bad for you because you always look so surprised as if to say, "Wait! What happened?" But you're also starting to become a little more grabby, and he's not so fond of it. Now when you get close enough to him, you usually end up grabbing his shirt or his hair and trying to bring yourself as close to him as possible. I hear a lot of "No touch! No touch, Emmie!" coming from Jack these days -- what I can only imagine is the beginning of years of me saying, "Nobody is touching anybody else, at all, ever again."



Speaking of not doing things ever again, I think sleep falls into that category. As you have for the last seven months, you still refuse to sleep through the night. And you don't wake up to eat just once, or even twice, but four or five times a night. It's gotten to the point I have declared it the new normal. Your GI doctor said once you gain a little weight and start loading up on the calories, you should start to sleep better. I had a hearty laugh at that notion, because I am convinced you will never sleep through the night and someday your poor husband will be getting up multiple times per night to get you a drink of water or a snack.

Your daddy and I spent a few days away from you and Jack recently and by the time the weekend was over, I was really looking forward to seeing both of your little faces. When we arrived to pick you up from Grandma and Grandpa, you were sleeping on Grandma's lap. You stirred a little when you heard my voice and you opened your eyes slightly and when you saw me, your eyes opened wide and you stared at me as if to say, "Is it really you Mommy?" I grabbed you and hugged you and you were so glad to see me. In the coming years, there will probably be tons of moments like this, except you will be all "Mooooooommmmmmm, stop kissing me. My friends are watching." Complete with eye rolls and slumping shoulders. But I will always, always be happy to see you.

Love,
Mommy