Chub monster

Unfortunately, I'm not a very good photographer. I also only seem to remember to take pictures after dark, and my lack of skill plus a point and shoot indoors with lousy lighting makes for some poor pictures. I'm going to be posting more anyways, because I know y'all are clamoring for more shots of the little darling, and it's kind of stupid to keep waiting for a better shot. Here you go! Many more to come, of questionable quality, but hey. No photo could capture her angelic qualities anyway.

Two months

Happy two month birthday, my little poop monster!

Despite the fact that I tell you every day to stop growing dagnabbit! I just want to enjoy my tiny baby a little bit longer!, you persist in getting absolutely enormous. Thirteen and a half pounds! Granted, each cheek weighs a pound easy, which helps add to the total, but geez! You're in the 97th percentile for your weight. And you're tall, too... not quite 97th percentile tall, and not even 90th like last month. More like 80th. Which means that you're a very, er, healthy baby. So healthy that the doctor, upon examining your thigh when she was about to give you your shot, decided to use a bigger needle, because the one she usually uses for two month olds wouldn't make it through your layer of chub! I could have told her that. Your Dad and I snack on those thighs every day when we change you, and boy, are they plump and juicy. No wonder I'm still not back in my pre-pregnancy pants. You're growing so fast that I think I'll just put aside the clothes I was wearing before I got pregnant for you to wear. At this rate, you should be in them by the end of this year.

You're also brilliant. I think your biggest milestone this month was learning to smile. There's no better reason for getting out of bed than to say good morning to you and see your little face light up with that goofy, gummy, grin when you see me again after a long sleep. Your Daddy can't wait to see you when he comes home from work, too. Your favorite is the "Leg Game", where he wiggles your legs back and forth while singing a little song, and you make delighted faces and gurgle at him. I'm amazed how quickly you learned to love us and how much you enjoy just sitting in our laps as we chat with you. You can even follow us around the room with your eyes, and I'm pretty sure you finally figured out that the dog is a living breathing thing. I can't blame you for taking two months to pick up on his existence; he doesn't move much. You also love to talk with us, and you make all sorts of insanely adorable coos and gurgles as you tell us all about what's going on in your baby world. Honestly, I think that I'd be okay with you sticking with that level of "speech". At least then you'll never learn to talk back.

Your eyesight has improved immensely, too. Right now, you're particularly fascinated with the necklace I've been wearing. You spend at least 20 minutes every day contentedly transfixed by it, and I've promised to give it to you when you're older. It's enough to make a Mama cry thinking about how I'll give it to you and tell you all about how I used to hold you for hours and we'd just gaze at each other, and you'd stare and stare at that necklace and make me laugh. And, being a teenager, you'll probably roll your eyes and say, "Whatever." It's so hard for me to believe that someday I won't need to sit next to you, ready to catch you if you start to tip over or if your neck gets tired from holding your sweet little head up. It's probably a good thing; it'd be a little awkward by the time you're in college.

At least for now you're still snuggled up against my chest, your favorite place to nap. And if, after a big weekend at college, you do need someone to hold your head up during your 9 am Intro to Philosophy class, give me a call. I'll always be there for you, little one. You'll always be my baby.

Love,
Mom

But what about the Polar Bears??

I found out today that I've been a terrible parent. It's not just the beatings, either. Ever since we got the whole nursing thing down, I've sometimes been WATCHING TV while I feed her. I'm expecting a knock on the door from the authorities shortly after I post this, because HOW COULD I? I just found out that because she's been hearing the sweet sounds of The Golden Girls and Lost, I have not only ruined her chances at getting into Stanford (although that went out the window that time when she was a week old and we were struggling with nursing her and I gave her two ounces of *gasp* formula) but am almost certainly raising a serial killer.

I know that I'm supposed to be talking to her all the time, ideally in Mandarin and Spanish to get her a head start, and I really do try to stimulate her all day when she's up. We look at colorful toys, and I even read to her already. We still haven't quite made it all the way through Pat the Bunny without her losing interest, but I'm trying! We do tummy time, and standing time, and singing and dancing in the kitchen time. (There will be no videos of the singing and dancing in the kitchen time. Sorry if your hopes have been dashed.) But honestly, after 5 days a week of doing these, um, fascinating activities, Sweet Baby Jesus, I just want to look at adults and hear them speak! I don't even care that they're not real, they're having conversations. With each other!

Oh well. Maybe when she's in college.

Champion Hula-Hooper?

Here is a little video proving that little Miss Evelyn is on her way to standing on her own two feet in this world. They just need to be a little bit farther apart, and the knees need to get less rickety. But she can be proud and hold her head up high! Most of the time anyway...

Blessed, blessed sleep.

I don't know what I did in a past life to deserve this, but we have the easiest baby in the history of babies. It's not like I've had a bunch of other kids to compare, but so many people scared me so thoroughly about how little sleep I'd get for months that I keep compulsively Googling "my baby is awesome and sleeps for 7 hours at a time even though she's only 7 weeks how do I know if my husband secretly sold her soul to the devil to achieve this." (You'd be surprised, but you get some relevant hits.)

But it's true; she's not quite 8 weeks old and she's already regularly sleeping for 6 and even 7 hours at a time. At night, no less! This means (drumroll, please) that I get to sleep for 6 hours at a time during the hours when most other adults are asleep. Let's just say that if called upon to say Grace at Thanksgiving dinner, I've got about a 45 minute speech prepared. She is also a fantastic napper. During today's nap I: put a load of laundry in, peeled and chopped all my vegetables for dinner, ate hot stuff for lunch, and am now goofing around and blogging. I could even read my book for a while if I want to! I'm pretty sure Alex did sell her soul, but you know, it's probably worth it. Or maybe it's the whiskey we've been giving her? Just kidding! We're only giving her beer. No hard stuff until she's at least a year old.

Honestly though, for those parents out there who might actually want to try to replicate this phenomenon, I think it's partly because we swaddle the bejeezus out of her. I know everyone swaddles, but we SWADDLE. If her swaddles were in the wash, I'd wrap her up in duct tape. We're new to the swaddle products, because we were trying to use blankets at first. We were both awful at it though, and why struggle with getting a tight swaddle in the middle of the night when there are fairly inexpensive products that stay snug even if you stink at wrapping babies? Right now, we're using the Kiddopotamus Swaddleme, but she's almost outgrown the one we have and can kick her legs out, which wakes her up. I just ordered the Miracle Blanket, which is more expensive, but according to the reviews gives a super tight swaddle even for bigger, wriggly babies.

And who doesn't love the word swaddle? It sounds like cute sleepy ducklings. Swaddle swaddle swaddle! Swaddle!