Buggie! Buggie! Buggie!

My child will not fear bugs.  

"Bug" isn't even a real taxonomic category.  Two of my friends define bug as "anything one wants to squish."  This include scorpions and jellyfish (though one wouldn't try to squish a stinging jellyfish, one wants to squish them, apparently).

The point is that I was afraid of bugs as a child and well into adulthood.  I can't say that I love them now, but I can capture and release most bugs in my house.  Generally, bugs outside don't bother me at all.  And many people have witnessed me hold a Madagascar Hissing Cockroach with out batting an eye in my classroom.  It wasn't always so.

When I was four years old my mom ran to my ear-piercing shriek from the front stoop.  She thought surely I had cracked open my skull or was being abducted.  What she found was a hysterical child screaming and crying and pointing to a big black carpenter ant.  Just one ant.  One.

Even younger than that I used to wake up in my crib shouting "Buggie!  Buggie!  Buggie!"  

I really don't know the source of my fear, but it was there and it was real.

So I repeat.  My child will not fear bugs.  Or, at least, I will do whatever I can to encourage a positive relationship with benign insects, spiders, and other arthropods.  Jury is still out on the jellyfish.

Two months isn't to early to start, right?

Bear Bottom

 



















Enough said.

Two Months

Abby is two months old today!  I can't believe how much she has grown in this short time. 

The biology teacher in me can't help but think:

• Living things grow and develop. That's my girl!

• Living things use energy.  She's a wiggler.

• Living things are made up of cells.  If I take a sample of her cheek cells and look at them under a microscope someone will call child services, I'm sure.

• Living things evolve.  Clearly her utter cuteness is an evolutionary adaptation that helps me ignore the fact I haven't slept more than four hours at a time for the last two months.

• Living things respond to their environment.  Abby has had enough of this photo session. 

Rolling Baby

First of all, for anyone who has used Blogger, I JUST discovered the "Compose" tab.  I've been doing all my posts in html and it sucked!  I'm so excited that I now can change colors and fonts and 

• use bullets!

This is amazing!  And oh so much easier.

So. . .in high school I learned about trans fats and sweat shops and wanted to shout to the world not to eat bacon and to buy Made in America clothes.

In college I was part of the Community Water Watch group and my roommate ran the Women's Center.  I wanted everyone to know that our state needed stronger clean water legislation and that we all should to stand strong against the patriarchal society.

In grad school I wanted my friends and family to understand the importance of Basic Research in science.

While teaching I felt teachers, parents, and society in general should recognize that education needs to change if we were to engage today's tech-based youth.

Now I want to shout from the highest mountain. . .that my baby girl. . .can roll from her tummy to her back, not only on her right side. . .but on her left side too!

A Walk in the Park

Literally. That's what we did this afternoon. Abby and I met up with my friend and colleague Renee and her beautiful baby Kayla and walked through the park. And let me say: Oh, spring how I've missed you! Promise to stay a long, long time.

Renee is a veteran mama and she chuckled as she watched me struggle to get everything out of the car and on the stroller. Camera, diaper bag (with diapers, wipes, burp cloths, hand sanitizer, water bottle, baby toy, kitchen sink), sling, phone, coffee for mom. . .so I'm overprepared. I'm still new at this.

In the process of loading up the stroller I temporarily lost my car keys.

Renee found them.

In the trunk of my car.

Baby Kayla seemed happy as a pig in mud, taking in the scenery and fresh air.

Abby slept the entire time, of course. But at least she got wear her new hat courtesy of Aunt Diane and Bri!

Lucky Charm

Thanks to Nana and Caitlin, Abby was decked out for the holiday.

My husband impersonated the Irish flag all on his own.

We're not the least bit Irish, in case you're wondering.

Birthday Mama

Thirty-four. How the heck did that happen?!

I remember catching snippets of the television drama "Thirty Something" and thinking that those characters were so old. A life with a house, marriage, and kids was so far away. Now I'm a thirty-something.

And I have a baby. Mind-blowing.

So last year on my birthday I had my get-ready routine down to 20 minutes. Thirty minutes if I blowed-dried. I liked to slow it down to an hour and include breakfast, but if I reached for the snooze alarm one too many times, 20 minutes and I was out the door.

One year later this is the routine:

Put contacts in before shower so I can save baby in case of emergency.

Shower while baby sits in bouncy seat.

Get water in eyes causing contacts to move out of place. Blink ferociously.

Continue shower. Forgot face wash at sink.

Step out of shower, flooding floor, smile at baby, get face wash and return.

Finish shower and rejoice that baby did not start crying. Immediately following rejoice baby cries.

Brush teeth and dance around in front of baby.

Apply deodorant. Baby cries.

Change diaper and put on new baby clothes.

Return baby to bouncy seat.

Put on moisturizer. Baby fusses.

Give pacifier.

Stare blindly in closet. Realize that the three shirts and two pairs of pants that currently fit are in laundry pile. Pull yesterday's pants from laundry pile. Find T-shirt that's too tight and decide to wear zip-up hoodie over it. Get dressed.

Baby fusses. Pacifier has fallen out of mouth. Replace pacifier.

Comb hair. Baby fusses. Pacifier has fallen out of mouth. Replace pacifier.

No time for blow-dry. Apply mousse. Baby fusses. Pacifier out. Replace pacifier. Baby spits out pacifier. Try again. Same result. Bounce the bouncy seat up and down.

Powder face. Baby cries.

Talk silly until crying stops.

Apply eyeliner. Apply mascara to one eye. Baby cries. Repeat all previous actions. No change.

Nurse baby. Burp baby.

Put baby in bouncy seat.

Apply mascara to other eye.

Baby fusses. Give pacifier.

Put on shoes and take baby downstairs. Eventually make it out the door.

Total time = two hours

I love being a Thirty-Something.

King Size

We upgraded to a king size bed (which is becoming a nightmare because the mattress is already sagging, but let's not get into that). Here's Abby trying it out.

Short People Got Good Reason

Abby is smiling.

OK, it may be the result of gas or random facial muscles spasms, but there are definitely some smile-like expressions happening.

So what would have caused today's smiles?

Was it the attempted photo session in the bouncy chair this morning?

Nope, that made her cry.

Was it the afternoon walk in the beloved BOB stroller?

Nope, she just sacked out.

Was it the diaper pin rattle?

Mmm. . .Don't think so.

Was it watching her mama make crazy faces to coax a smile?

Getting close.

Whatever the reason, the smiles appeared but were fleeting. We had a difficult time catching an in-focus shot.

There it is! Whatcha think? Just gas?

Back to Back

We've been MIA on the blog for a while. My fault. I was. . .sick. Sort of. Sore throat. Fever. Cough. Copious amounts of snot. This would qualify as "sick" in my past life, but, as a friend and fellow mom stated, I "don't get to be sick anymore." Abby still needs to fed, changed, entertained, and loved 24-7. The good news?

I survived my first case of "sick" with a baby.

Sighs of relief that Abby did not catch my bug. Both of us sick? That one can hold off for. . ever, actually.

Despite the fact that I went through three boxes of tissues and sounded like a 40-year smoker for a while, there have been exciting events on the home front. Not the least being that Miss Abigail rolled from tummy to back! Here's a play by play:

I put Abby belly-side down on one of her play mats for some quality tummy time. Then I BRIEFLY left the room. (I know, you're thinking BAD MOM, but really? She was in the middle of the floor. Where could she go?)

When I returned, she was on her back.

Surprise! For a minute I thought Desmond the Wonder Cat pushed her over. Then logic kicked in and I realized she rolled all by herself.

And I missed it.

A major milestone of my first born and I wasn't there. BAD MOM.

After mentally beating myself up I turned Abby on her belly, which she must have really disliked because. . .she rolled to her back again! I was so excited that I made her do it seven more times. When she was thoroughly annoyed I picked her up, cuddled and praised her, and then we went to bed. She was rightly exhausted.

Check out the leg warmers