When I got to daycare tonight to pick Milo up, he was over in the corner playing with a pink car. I asked him for a hug. He said "This car needs a hug first." He pushed the car into my open arms, so I obliged, hugging that poor car. Then I handed the car back to Milo and said I needed a hug from him, too. He hugged the car tightly to his chest and leaned into me.
Group hug.
 |
| Unrelated to the story, but it's almost a group hug. That counts as being relevant, right? |
What is my girl up to this month? Let's start with the official stats from the pediatrician:
Tonight was Andrew's turn to read to Milo before bed. Instead of tucking him in like I usually do, I just went up to say good night.
I gave Milo a big hug and told him I loved him. He said, "I'm gonna have fun reading with Daddy!" I said, "We had fun earlier, didn't we?" He said, "Yeeeeahhh," in the perfect tone of voice that said, well, we did, and I will humor you by admitting it, but of course I will have much more fun with Daddy. I laughed and hugged him tighter. He laughed.
I said, "Can I have a kiss?" And he actually gave me a kiss. Not just put his lips out so I could kiss him, but he really kissed me. Then he kissed me a second time. And I melted a little, so I told him I loved him again. And he said, "I love you."
Such a sweet kid, so amazing. Such an easy thing, loving him. There is nothing in the world like this feeling.
Breaking news: Olive got her very first tooth yesterday (when she was eight months old (future Me will be glad she didn't have to do the math))! And her very second tooth! Yes! Two! At one time! It's a phenomenon I have heard of but never witnessed for myself.
Perhaps this explains the 4:00am wake-up call the other day...
She's going standard teething style; her new chompers are the two middle ones on the bottom. They are very tiny and can be more felt than seen at this point.
And now you have more information on my baby's mouth than you thought you needed. You're welcome.
My dear sweet Olive is eight months old. She's very nearly old enough for me to start thinking about planning her first birthday party. Unbelievable. It's so very cliche to comment on how quickly the time is going, but my goodness, how quickly the time is going! Although I must say, it does seem like an eternity has passed since I was pregnant (amen).
No official weight/height stats this month; we're still a month away from the next checkup. However, I would guess that Olive is squarely average. She's skinny compared to some babies, chubby compared to others. Average height, probably. Her size, though, is probably the only average thing about her.
I've been saying that there's a good chance she'll be walking by Halloween, and now with Halloween just a couple weeks away, I stand by my guess. No steps have been taken yet, but she can stand there and balance unassisted for several seconds at a time. She can walk rather quickly when holding onto someone's hands. She has no trouble cruising the furniture, even letting go of one piece of furniture to move over to another. So we'll see. Maybe she'll even be ready for trick-or-treating this year.
Speaking of trick-or-treating, I still don't know what Olive is going to be for Halloween. I'm torn. I want her to be something adorable and awesome, but my cheap (and lazy, if I'm being honest) side is winning out, and I'll probably just put her in a costume we already have. That means a) kangaroo, b) pumpkin, or c) chicken. I'm leaning toward chicken; Andrew wants kangaroo. Feel free to weigh in on this Very Important Issue.
I think Olive has learned how to high five. At least four out of five times I hold up my hand and say "high five" she lifts up her hand to mine. I think she goes along with it mostly because I cheer ("woo!") every time she does it. Gestures she has not yet mastered include blowing kisses, waving, and flipping the bird.
She hasn't really said her first word yet, but I think she's attempted "hi" and "Mama." Also "byebye." I haven't gone on record yet with any first words. In my book, making the sound isn't enough; she has to attach some sort of meaning to it.
No teeth yet. Sigh. She is frequently in pain, we think, from teething. This mysterious teething, that does not seem to produce actual teeth. Huh.
Olive wakes up early. No, earlier than that. Yes, it is that bad. She does sleep through the night, if by "through the night," you mean "almost all the way through the night." Waking up at 4:00am is too goddam early. 5:00 is too early. 5:45 is too early, though we're getting in the ballpark now. Sleep until 6:00 (preferably 6:15), Olive, and I'll be a happy and less irritable mommy. Lately I haven't been handling the lack of sleep too well. I overreact to the kids' less-than-ideal behavior, and I'm just so irritated with everything and everybody (yes, you too). I can feel my brain processing things very slowly, like I'm in a fog. Andrew and I are both constantly almost sick, always fighting colds or something. Frankly, it's miserable. But I digress. Back to Olive. She wakes up early. Her naps are all over the place. Some good ones on days she's here with the nanny, lots of bad too-short naps.
She is pretty much over pureed foods and much prefers to eat chunky things or things she can pick up. Andrew and I joke that she must have her bread course after she's done being spoon-fed. She's definitely a second child: I made all of Milo's baby food, and Olive is lucky to occasionally get some mashed sweet potato or steamed cauliflower. It's all jars and pouches this time around.
I have also just weaned from daytime nursing, so she's getting three bottles of formula daily. This is another indication of my second child. The first time around, I would have freaked out at the thought of (gasp!) formula. But now... eh. Girl's gotta eat, and my boobs weren't cutting it. So I started to wean from pumping at work, going from three times a day to two, then down to once a day, then cutting back on the length of time I spent pumping. Today was my first day at work that I didn't use the moms' room at all. And let me tell you, I didn't miss it. I'm still nursing in the morning and before bed, and I plan to continue that for awhile, hopefully until Olive decides she's through.
Olive is happy. She adores her nanny. She smiles for anybody who smiles at her. She bounces with excitement when I get home in the evening, then again when she sees her daddy come home. She giggles at Milo, she is entertained by the cat, and sometimes she smiles for no reason at all. So Olive is happy...
...except when she's not. When she's feeling clingy/hungry/overly tired, you cannot get her off you. She claws at your legs and wipes her snot all over your pants. Shes screams until you pick her up, at which point she is suddenly totally happy again. She fusses, she arches her back, she throws her body around. She's a little maniac, an insane, unreasonable maniac.
She likes: blowing raspberries, blowing spit bubbles (slowly, so she can feel the saliva forming a bubble), graham crackers, Cheerios, cauliflower, knocking the puzzles to the floor, shoving food off her tray, drinking water that is dropped into her mouth via a straw, bouncing, being tossed in the air, falling backward, being tickled, smooches on her jawline, and pulling herself to standing.
She doesn't like: getting scratched by the cat (duh), beef stew, Greek yogurt, being tired, sleeping in, having her face wiped, having her nose wiped, reading books, and not being held.
She's a little spitfire, and I'm so glad she's mine.
I'd like to introduce to you the project that has consumed me at work for the last year and a half. It's my "super-secret project," the "next big thing," and the work accomplishment I am most proud of. (It has only just shipped, so we are only beginning to see sales—but I'm so confident, I am going to go ahead and count my chickens.)
For the first time ever, Milo went to bed last night without his paci. He didn't fuss, he didn't wake up during the night and cry, and he didn't get upset this morning when he didn't have it. He really is a big boy.
We've been weaning him slowly from the paci, talking up what a big boy he is and how big boys don't need pacis anymore. He no longer gets it during diaper changes or traumatic moments (like taking a big tumble or something). And we weren't giving it to him during pre-bedtime story time, either. He was still asking for (and getting) the paci before naptime and right as he was laying down to go to bed.
But not last night. It occurred to me as I was tucking him in that he wasn't asking for it. I considered giving him one, hoping to prevent a middle-of-the-night screaming session. But I resisted, wondering if this might be the night he left his babyhood behind. He did great. He didn't even know he did great, but I'm so proud of him.
We'll see if he goes paci-free tonight, too. Wouldn't that be something?
Let's talk about sleep for a moment, shall we? Oh, how I miss it. The last three nights, Milo has decided that going to bed isn't a good idea. He lays down initially, but five minutes later is up, out of his room, and heading downstairs.
We calmly walk him back to bed, kiss him goodnight, and leave. He wails. He gets out of bed, opens his door, and walks out.
I take his hand (which he very willingly lets me do), calmly walk him back to bed, kiss him goodnight, and leave. He wails.
Wash, rinse, repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
It has taken somewhere between one and two hours for him to give up and go to sleep.
Then 5:00am comes, and Olive is wailing in her crib. She's been waking up this early for the last couple of weeks. It's getting old.
This morning we had the added bonus of Olive crying at 5:00am, and either waking Milo up or letting him know it was time to get up anyway, and he opened his door, walked across the hall, and opened Olive's door. Just wanted to say good morning, I suppose.
I'm losing my mind, a little bit. Something desperately needs to change. I know you can't make kids eat or sleep. I'm over worrying about what they eat. I know they're doing okay overall when it comes to nutrition. But sleep? This is directly affecting me. And Andrew. And our relationship. Because when we don't get enough sleep, we get cranky, and when we get cranky, we argue. It's no good.
Any advice for me?
No official weight/height stats this month, but I'm pretty sure Olive is growing. So at least there's that. Some babies are probably bigger. Some are probably smaller. Eh. Let's get to the good stuff.
My baby is turning into a big girl far too fast for my liking. She can crawl like nobody's business. She can pull herself to standing. She is beginning to cruise along the coffee table. She can hold my hands and walk for quite a long time before losing her balance or tiring out. And she just doesn't fall over that much. Don't most babies lose their balance a lot and go tumbling over? Olive just doesn't do that very often. She's absurdly strong.
Her laugh! Oh how I love it. At first I always think she's crying (when I hear her but can't see her) because it has this breathy quality to it. But then she squeaks out a high-pitched shrieky giggle and there's no mistaking her joy. Things that make her laugh? Tickling. Olive is ticklish, especially on her tummy and under her arms. Also the feeling of free-falling backward and tipping her head upside-down.
Physically, I think she's gorgeous. Big dimples, huge eyes. Her eyes aren't purely blue like Milo's, but sort of blue-gray. Her halo of fuzzy strawberryish-blonde hair that just sticks up enough to make things interesting. Her toothless grin and the way she imitates big smiles and mirrors her own back.
She is eating a lot of different foods, but doesn't so much care for purees. She would much rather pick up her own food. She's extremely selective when it comes to food. For the first bite, she'll tentatively open her mouth, just enough to get a taste. She'll taste, visibly moving her tongue around to get the full effect of the flavor. Then, when offered the next bite, she'll either open her mouth as wide as she can, or she'll clamp her jaw shut. And if she's decided she doesn't want that food, you absolutely cannot get her to eat it. No trick in the book works on this kid. She's a smart one, I tell you. Foods she likes (for now, anyway) include all breads, cheese, peaches, avocado, sweet potato, cauliflower, pasta, chicken, prunes, banana, and oatmeal, among others I'm forgetting, I'm sure.
I'm still nursing her, but she's now also getting one bottle of formula a day. Even though I've been pumping three times a day at work, it's just not enough and I'm only pumping approximately eight to ten ounces a day, whereas she eats about fifteen. I don't really have a plan for how long to pump. As long as it seems worth the effort, I guess. If I only were to pump six ounces in three sessions, for instance, forget it. Not worth the time and effort it would take. So we'll see how it goes.
Olive adores Milo still. He can get kind of pushy with her, sometimes literally. He shoves her over and takes her toys. He hugs her and ends up knocking her over. He yells at her for...being a baby, I guess. But still Olive can't get enough of him, and when he's in the right mood, he can't get enough of her, either. It really is fun to watch them play together, especially now that what they are doing can be considered playing.
During this last month, I have gotten in the swing of being back at work and Olive has gotten used to her new caretakers. First is Tara, our wonderful nanny. Olive adores her. Andrew and I adore her. Second is Kristin, Milo's current full-time daycare provider. She's wonderful as well, which of course we already knew. I will say that Olive has a bit more trouble napping at Kristin's, but that seems to be improving all the time. Bottom line is that Olive is happy and in extremely capable hands, and as her mommy I feel so fortunate to have found people who adore my daughter to take care of her.
My weight has now fallen below the weight listed on my driver's license. This has got to be the first time this has ever happened in the history of the world. And you know that when I listed that weight, I was at least ten pounds heavier than I claimed to be. Hot damn, I am a mere seven pounds away from my high school weight. High school! And let me tell you, my boobs are way bigger now than they were back then. I'm like a fine wine, continually getting better with age. Right?
Posts
All Comments
