Wednesday, January 7, 2009

If you hate babies don't read this

The Child, I think, is going to be a musician. Or she'll at least like music. Or I'm in another fit of overgrown parent ego. Every time I sing to her, she grins like an idiot. But for some songs, she just stares in wonder. "Down to the River to Pray" (it's on the O Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack, sung by Alison Krauss, one of the most beautiful voices I have ever heard) is one of those songs. Yesterday she woke from a nap freaking out. I started singing that song as loudly as I could without singing off key, and she calmed down immediately. Today we were rockin' out to some Regina Spektor, and I don't think I've ever seen her so happy.

We really need to get the piano tuned, or she'll grow up thinking singing a quarter-tone flat on every other note is a good thing.

She slept most of yesterday. I think she grew an inch in the last 24 hours. The outfit I put her to bed in last night even looks smaller on her now.

Operation: Car Seat has not started yet. She's been so sleepy and hoooongry and touchy the last few days. If I keep putting off stuff like this, she'll be fourteen and still afraid to go pee in the middle of the night. Wait. I'm afraid to go pee in the middle of the night (don't you KNOW there are monsters living in the sewers?). Bad example. She'll still be afraid of vacuum cleaners and lawn mowers and cars.

I spent all day yesterday fighting off insane cravings for a hummus plate from Mediterranean Cafe. I nearly took the car and drove to Madison in my pajamas and crazy hair with my crazy-haired baby. I really need to learn how to make a good hummus. And a good yogurt sauce. A possible a good Greek salad dressing. Then I wouldn't need Mediterranean Cafe. I could be happy and keep my money.

Behold, a video of The Child, which is also up on Facebook, but in order to see it there you have to be my friend:

I recommend watching it in high quality.

Don't believe her. We really do feed her. In fact, I think she'd just finished chowing down minutes before this.

This brings me to my next point. The Child may be aurally and verbally on track, but in the motor skills department, she's off-roading in the short bus. The only object she's interested in handling are her own hands. Which she chews on. Constantly. She still hasn't really mastered the concept of bringing her hands to her face. She stretches her head and neck forward as far as she can and becomes very, very frustrated if her hands happen to be in her lap. She's not THAT flexible.

Yesterday I was having no luck getting her interested in her brightly-colored educational rattle, so I stuck my hand in front of her face. I thought she might play with it. Don't ask me why. Instead, she promptly leaned forward and landed open-mouth-first on my palm. She chewed on that for a while before she realized she was in a really uncomfortable position and started to fuss.

We got a play phone for Christmas that lights up and talks when you push the buttons. She has that kind of figured out, but now I can't find it. It's disappeared since our trip to Indiana. So has our camera. Which might be a good thing.

We have a bar that attaches to the bouncy seat with things that hang down. One of those things is a big plastic frog. She'll stare and giggle and flirt with the frog for twenty minutes, and then abruptly start screaming at it in terror. She does the same thing with the ceiling fan. Yesterday she really freaked me out. I was reading and bouncing her when all of a sudden she went all wide-eyed at something over my shoulder and started shrieking. I actually thought there was something in the room with us for a minute. She was utterly terrified. I was really spooked. I wonder what she saw, if anything.

I'm also getting really frustrated about tummy time. I know she's strong enough to push herself up (I've seen her do it), but she just won't. She'll lie face-down on the floor and cry. Nothing works. I can put her on a pillow or on my chest, and she still hates it and just gives up. I also have to wait until at least 2 1/2 hours after she's last eaten, or she barfs everywhere. Which means she's never in an optimal mood for tummy time. I think she'll be two before she can sit up.

That's okay. If you're a musical or verbal genius, why would you need to be able to dress yourself in the morning?

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