I love my macro lens, but I am lazy…and have yet to use it with a tripod. So a nice bright sunny day, which is normally horrible for photography, allows me to get some handheld shots in while the baby naps.

No more fairy tales for C for a bit. The other day she said “I am the princess, daddy is the prince, and you are the fairy.” What is M, I inquired. “The stepsister!”

Bought a “playground ball” and a T ball set for C to play in the backyard. So she and a friend are out there on Saturday. G wants to give them my big blow up exercise ball to play with. I object—since I do in fact use it to exercise, and we have bought toys for the backyard. G is sure the ball will be fine. He throws it outside. It hits a rose bush. A few minutes later the girls bring it over. With a hole in it. It is ruined. Think G will listen to me the next time? Yeah, me neither.

I love that little M…but some days… Today I gave her a nice bath, because her little head was kinda sweaty the past day or so (80-90 temps and all that). As I am toweling her off…she pees all over the towel. Get her diapered and dressed, and into the rocking chair for nursing. And she poops. Fine. Put her on the shoulder to burp, and she projectile spits up at least several ounces of milk—all down my back, and all over the rocking chair. Move her forward to regroup….and the next projectile gets me down the front, down her front, and fills my lap with milk. Luckily (for me, not for him) G works from home so I was able to call for backup. Sigh. What’s a few more loads of laundry between family, right?

For the most part, we love to hear what C has to say—to hear a little bit of her logic and creativity, and see how she understands the world. At the end of any of her meltdowns, in addition to asking for a tissue (which is the sign that she is calming down) she will come up with an explanation for why she was upset. It usually recasts the preceding meltdown in a light that is more logical and shows her in a better light than the actual things said during the meltdown. For instance, there may be unexplained crying about eating strawberries at dinner, and at the end of the crying she will say “Well, I just wanted to eat the strawberries in daddy’s lap, thaaaaat is why I was crying.”

Other random things I have liked lately “Mommy, do you want to play cats with me? It is just like playing crocodiles, except you are a different animal. Come on, let’s play.” “This sheet is on top of these necklaces and then you lay down on them and they massage you—they bump all the old ssages out and put new massages in and that is how it works.”

But then there are the things that we don’t like to hear. For instance, although he laughed I don’t think G was too happy when at bedtime tonight C said “Daddy, the more you work, the more we love you.”

Um. Not really sure where that came from! The next exchange is fully my responsibility though.

Scene: Putting the girls in the car. M has been changed several times due to spitting up, and now we are running late, and she is in a final outfit. As soon as I click the carseat in, boom, spit up is running out of her mouth.

Me: M, God….

C: Dammit!

Me: C! You cannot say that, it is not nice.

C: Mommy, I was just helping you. You said God so I said dammit. I was finishing it for you.

So goal for this week: less swearing. I would prefer to have as a goal, less spitting up, which would naturally result in less swearing, but M will not play along.

Ugh. 93 here this weekend, and us with no AC. Luckily the temperatures drop at night, but at 3 am this morning it was still over 80 in our bedroom. Poor M is used to sleeping swaddled…but in this heat? So last night I tried to not swaddle her…and no sleep. So did a minimal swaddle and she fell right asleep, but later on had her arms out and woke up at 3 am (which is why I know what the temperature was) which she hasn’t done in weeks.

Yesterday we tried to pretend there was no heat, and went to the Bellevue Strawberry Festival. C and her friend seemed to do OK—C even went and sat in the sun to listen to Rocky Raccoon (gosh, did we feel bad for the sucker in the huge raccoon costume!) and *exercised* to the songs. They also went on blow up bouncy things, got their faces painted, and waited in line for a balloon poodle. The adults guzzled lemonade and sought shade until one of us (ok, me) whined enough that we left.

Today our heat-beating strategy involved going to a movie theater to see Wall-E. C had to be convinced to go (showed her previews on YouTube—“Mommy, let me see another episode about Ollie!”) So now M has been to her first movie—and was pretty good for it even. Overall…eh. It was ok. Good animation, a bit too much shooting for a G movie (in my opinion), and they really hit you over the head with the moral. The story line is just OK though…while I agree with the sentiment (boo on consumerism) there are gaping plot holes. Glad we went, but mostly to be in AC.

Other goings on this week: lots of time spent watering our new plants.

A lot of cuteness

a little of this

and the bald spot continues to gain a foothold.

Oh, and we are flirting with going Piscetarian (vegetarian + fish). I do the meal planning and we have been eating a lot more beans, lentils, veggies (thank you Kirkland Farmers Market) and salmon and a lot less animal meat. For environmental and health reasons. Not C so much though…if we removed ham and chicken strips from her diet she would waste away to nothing. Sigh.

Last day of school (with early dismissal) was celebrated with lunch at Ruby’s Diner, where C was very entertained making a cardboard car. You can tell she is excited for school to be over…and camp to be starting! Later that day, at the Kirkland Farmer’s Market, we found the cheapest cherries and discovered that Cinnamon Kettle Corn is like crack, if crack was puffy, cinnamon covered, and edible.

Thursday saw many crappy pictures at some of the worst places to take a picture—the aquarium and the waterfront carousel. Otherwise, much fun was had by all. We did discover that 4.5 year olds cannot play skee ball, the waterfront Red Robin has some awesome views, and C can sleep through M crying the whole ride back from downtown during rush hour traffic. C spent Friday sailing and hanging around downtown with daddy, who doesn’t feel obligated to photograph every breath of every day, and thus there are no pictures to share.

M continues her cuteness assault, this week highlighting her very cute little feet and a floral cloth diaper.

However, she already seems a bit jaded about the camera.

M loves her big sister and saves some of her biggest smiles for her. Although that might not be obvious from these shots. M’s look says more “Why are you over there holding the camera and not over here saving me!” Perhaps she is understandably nervous about being held by C. 

With good reason (“Mommy! I am not touching the soft spot I am just patting her head.”)

Nonetheless, they do make quite a cute little pair.

When I woke up it was only 6 am and the baby was still sleeping but my body needed to nurse and also I had to go to the bathroom and I could tell it was going to be a no good very bad day.

Then when I fell back asleep the baby woke up and wanted to nurse and I sat with her in the rocking chair and listened to G snore for an hour because he can’t wear his CPAP machine due to a bad cold and listening to snoring sucks.

I think I’ll move to Australia.

Then when the baby fell back asleep and I climbed back into bed G got up to shower and left the bathroom door open so I could hear the water running and then C woke up as well and came and climbed into the bed and wanted to play with the baby, and surprise the baby woke up—and spit up all over the bed. I was having a terrible, no good, very bad day.

G got out of the shower and did make breakfast for C and himself—but did not clean up after any of it. I made my own breakfast, which I ate while holding a fussy baby who spit up again. C didn’t want to color, play the memory game, go to a playground, or read books. She only wanted to watch the Wubbulous World of Dr. Seuss video from the library—with me and G. G promptly fell asleep on the couch because *he* was so tired. The Wubbulous World of Dr. Seuss is not really high quality programming.

I searched the internet for tickets to Australia.

Then I did get to take a shower and M didn’t fall asleep in her bouncy seat until the very end and woke up when the water turned off and I couldn’t even go to the bathroom in peace because C wanted me to look at the picture of a princess that she drew. And then she wanted me to play some game she made up where one of us is the dancer and one is the person who gets a present and I wanted to be the dancer, but no C was the dancer, and M would not fall asleep in the swing. G “had to work” but I am pretty sure most of that time was spent organizing a night out with the guys.

Finally I convinced everyone we should leave the house and after changing M’s onesie *again* we got into the car, and as we drove I could hear M spitting up in the backseat. And G kept saying “What’s wrong? Are you having a bad day? You seem really anxious.” And at the sporting goods store C decided to stand on a bucket and fell off and hurt her butt and wanted me to kiss it to make it feel better. And then we drove to Ruby’s Diner for lunch because they have cardboard cars for kids and the baby fell asleep on the drive there but woke up as soon as we placed our order, spit up, and then was hungry. And the booth is too narrow to really nurse in. So G ate while I changed the baby in the bathroom and then G walked the baby around outside while I shoveled my food down and C insisted she wasn’t hungry anymore and really wanted to be with daddy not with me. She would miss me if I was in Australia.

So I sat outside the Starbucks to nurse M while G went to get me a grande nonfat cappuccino and cookie, but he forgot and got a tall cappuccino and the Starbucks didn’t have chocolate chip cookies so it was peanut butter. And C had whined loudly in the Starbucks because she wanted a cinnamon roll because NOW she was hungry, although for the chicken fingers five minutes before she was too full. And then G broke the cookie in half and gave half to me and half to C and then he took a bite of her half and she burst into loud tears and G said “why is she crying” and C said “because you aaaaaattte my cooooookie” and G said “I am going to the garden center and I will check in on you three later.”

Wait….I hope there is Starbucks in Australia.

As soon as he walked away C’s tears escalated into sobs and shouts because she wanted a SNACK and she wanted a CINAMMON ROLL and she was SO HUNGRY and the baby was spitting up and it was hot and people were staring at us. And G had left so I didn’t have the keys to the car, and no stroller or sling—just the baby in her three hundred pound carseat. By now C was completely covered in tears and people were really looking and commenting and I had to get everything in the diaper bag and the baby in the car seat before we could leave and then carry the bag, the carseat, my coffee, and C’s milk, and somehow hold her hand to walk to the garden center and now she was crying harder and harder because her “nose was drippy” and she was sure I had a free hand to get her a tissue.

I was pretty sure G was having a better day.

So then we made it to the garden center and they only have flatbed carts which are no good for carseats and the place is huge and we can’t find G and we walk by the restrooms and C insists she does not have to go. And I have blood blisters all over my arm from carrying that stupid carseat hooked over it. And then we do find G and he goes to get the stroller out of the car and meet us by herbs, but then C DOES have to go to the bathroom and RIGHT AWAY MOMMY! and of course someone NOT handicapped is in the big stall so C has to go with the door open since I can’t wedge me and the baby in her carrier into the stall. When we finally meet up with G he has a cart full of plants and I can hardly see because my eyes are so swollen and itchy from hay fever.

I bet I won’t have hay fever in Australia.

So we check out with the roses and herbs and realize that there isn’t room for all of them in the car with me and the kids, so G takes the plants home and I need to walk the girls around freaking Woodinville for an hour while he makes the roundtrip back to get us. The baby’s outfit was soaked, but it was already the backup outfit from the diaper bag. We walked through a park where C picked up dirty pinecones while I nursed M and breathed in increasing amounts of pollen and then C wanted me to dance for her and I ran out of kleenex and old napkins for my hayfever and finally we met G at the bookstore and I was able to use the restroom with just *one* kid and get a drink of water from a fountain that sprayed my entire shirt with water, and that’s when I noticed all the spit up down my pants. And we drove home and I had twenty minutes to make dinner except C was asleep in the car and M was hungry again and wet and the whole wheat tortillas that were going to be our side dish were all moldy because everything immediately molds in this climate. And I spilled on my shirt and the house was hot but I can’t open the windows because it aggravates my hay fever. And G was leaving for a guys night out but somehow had time to start a World of Warcraft quest on the computer even as the baby cried, the laundry piled up, and the stove timer was going off.

This was really a terrible, no good, very bad day. And G pointing out again “you seem really anxious” WAS NOT HELPING.

So he left, and I stuck C in the bath while putting M in her *eighth* outfit of the day and trying to do another load of laundry. And M decided that she was overtired right then and cried through C’s entire bath and the only thing that makes her happy is nursing but that is hard to do while bathing C, especially because no water can ever touch C’s eyes. And then M nursed while I read C her story and then M woke up and promptly spit up all over my neck and down my shirt. And maybe, just maybe the end of this no good day was in sight.

So M cried a bit more until I could get her swaddle clothes out of the dryer and on the way from my room to the laundry I discovered C was out of bed because she had to poop…and guess who gets to wipe it? And then finally it was 9:30 and C was in bed, and M was in bed, and I had a nice night of laundry, dishes, and cleaning spit up off the car seat to look forward to. And when that was done, I frittered my free time away dorking around on the web and blogging.

Sigh. I bet G and the kids would follow me to Australia.

What I like—60s/low 70s, not too sunny.

What else I like—that little munchkin, elf, peanut face!

Big sis—kissing little M’s toes :) C always wants to hold the baby, hug the baby, tickle the baby, etc. etc. etc. Still working on remembering to hold the head up though.

Lots of hair on top, but getting a bald spot in the back (baby M, not daddy!) There is a spot of hair on the bed from where she frantically turns her head in the mornings when she wakes up.

Daddy and his girls. The one shot I got with the camera timer before most of the subjects mutinied.

Happy Father’s Day Eve to this wonderful daddy, who changes diapers, wears the baby in a Bjorn, reads book after book even though he doesn’t like reading, and even while asleep (!! judging from the snores heard between pages this morning). C adores him, and rightfully so—he has far more patience than I, is never afraid of looking silly while playing with all the neighborhood kids (as demonstrated at our block party today), and can usually be snookered into serving mac n cheese for any meal!

The sun shone unexpectedly bright today. Natural light = impromptu photo session!

Eyes closed due to that mysterious orb in the sky.

Please, no pictures!

What we mean by “has unusually good head control for a 2 month old.”

The hair gets a lot of comments.

Did I mention that spit up problem?

Can a girl not hang out in her swing without that camera appearing??

Sisterly love.

Car seat? I never agreed to anything about a car seat!

I am so happy I could just…spit up.

Weight: 11 lbs. 15 oz. (75th %)

Height: 22.5 inches (50th %—and somehow shorter than last months 23.25 inches…which I knew was false!!)

Head: 39 cm (50th %)

So M is right on track and doing really well.

Guess who turned two months old today?

At two months, she:

1. sleeps a 7 – 9 hour stretch every night (knock wood)

2. smiles, smirks, grins, and squeals with delight—sometimes for us, but mostly for the bears on her pack n play mobile

3. is pretty sure she hates baths, and isn’t afraid to let you know it

4. has been transitioning into 3-6 month size clothes (chubby arms eliminated half of the the 0-3 month stuff, and cloth diapers help take care of the rest!)

5. has met all of her grandparents and video conferenced with her uncle

6. has been to the zoo, the arboretum, Seattle Children’s Theater, several restaurants, multiple playgrounds, and the library—and slept through at least part of all of them

7. weighs an unspecified amount over 11 lbs. 8 oz—we get the official weight this week. That, and shots :(

8. still spits up a lot, but otherwise is an amazingly easy going, mellow little kid

9. has some seriously pinchable cheeks!

10. has amazingly dark blue eyes

11. is just about over the “baby acne” that is one of the reasons for not so many pictures recently

Scenes from our thrill a minute lives:

The zoo.

(I am thinking G gets a little bit too into the carousel, you know?)

Little M was not sure what to think.

We saw our first baby ducks of the season Memorial Day weekend at the arboretum. It was pretty awesome, because they swam right to where we were and seemingly showed off just for us—several other groups came through, with binoculars for bird watching, but they were all looking across the water and no one seemed to see the baby ducks that were *right there*. There is a message in there somewhere.

Continuing our tradition of half-hearted inconsistent gardening, C and I planted two tomato plants. She of course was appropriately garbed in a dress. She does wield a shovel with authority though. She especially likes patting the dirt. The dirt was very thoroughly patted. Also a big fan of watering.

As M has continued nursing, I have continued knitting. After the earlier scarf debacle, projects have gone a bit more smoothly. Made two scarves for C with funky yarns (and a small matching scarf for a certain Rosalina rabbit).

Hard to see the second one I guess—it is a fuzzy, muppet-ish rainbow scarf, which C actually took to preschool for sharing day. You know it is bad when I am pressing her for compliments from the other 4 year olds.

Once the scarves were done, I was ready for something a bit more challenging. Witness the gnome hat:

I think she will grow into it. Hopefully that time will coincide with winter. There was an extra stitch that snuck in at some point, and the edges aren’t supposed to curl quite that much, but I have declared success and moved on. Working on a hat for C and have purchased a bunch of nice wool yarn for a roll neck sweater for M.

First tub bath.

Awesome baby chub.

Self portrait at park, while M demonstrates the fencer's pose reflex.

So so little.

Love those tiny baby toes.

You may recall I mentioned relearning knitting. I haven't knit since an ill-advised scarf which I started in grad school. I opted to not use a pattern, just cast on a bunch of stitches and start.

For a scarf, you don't really need a bunch of stitches. My "scarf" was about 2 feet wide, and would never fit around anyone's neck. I went through ball after ball of yarn, and it barely grew. Finally, I gave up on it.

But knitting is a good nursing activity--easy to pick up and put down, and minimal setup or cleanup. So I happily bought the "One Skein Wonders" kit at Borders--book about things to knit with one skein of yarn, plus a skein and some knitting needles, all for one low low price. I picked a scarf, and I was off.

One skein wonders all right. One skein I wonder where the (*&@(#$& the rest of my scarf is supposed to be.

Anyone need a foot long narrow blanket?

C: "You looked the same when you picked me up from school today as you did yesterday."

Me: "Yeah, I look pretty much the same every day."

C: "You could wear some makeup."

Me: (stunned silence)

C: "Or a mask!"

Me: "I have a couple of pretty girls."

C: "You have 2 girls."

Me: "Yes, a couple is 2."

C: "What if you had 10 kids?"

Me: "That would be many, many kids. I think we will just have two kids."

C: "How about three?"

Me: "No, just two."

C: "We can have another baby if I want one!"

Me: "No, probably not. Besides M is still just a tiny baby."

C: "But mommy, I have extra love!"

Calls the day after tomorrow "tomorrow tomorrow" as in "Tomorrow tomorrow is X's birthday party and I am going to be so excited that I will run up and down the halls!"

1. Hearing "She is so big!" (or worse, "He is so big!") gets old fast; hearing "She is so beautiful" never does.

2. If you are behind on the baby's laundry, she will spit up on her clothes. If you are behind on your laundry, she will spit up on you. If you are caught up on laundry, she will spit up such that it runs into her hair.

3. Nails that seem too soft to file and too short to cut can leave quite an angry looking scratch on the face.

4. It is possible to get cradle cap on eyebrows--even eyebrows that are basically invisible to the human eye.

5. The day you decide you really will sleep when the baby sleeps is the day the baby sleeps in 20 minute increments only.

6. The new math: 4 hours sleep + 2 hours sleep + 1 hours sleep is not equal to 7 hours sleep.

7. Newborn acne gets progressively better for the several days leading up to a visit/outing will get worse again that day.

Had her one month check up today.

Weight: 10 lbs 14.5 oz (76%)

Height: 23 1/4 inches (96%)--?? this has got to be wrong! How could she grow 2.5 inches in a month?

Overall healthy, and a "good gainer" so I can just be thankful for our 4 - 7 hour stretch of sleep each night :)

Smiles for her mommy?

Can totally pull off the fauxhawk?

Supports Baby Power?

Has tiny, cute baby feet?

Would so rather be nursing than watching me blog?

The time is flying by. Little M has a bit of a cold right now, poor kid. I was going to do a post on my average day...but realized that would be the most boring post ever. Even more boring than my normal posts.

Since I am me, I had a whole list of goals for my so-called "time off"--start shooting in RAW, learn Lightroom, get better with Photoshop, re-learn to sew and knit, get C on a better schedule, start cooking more, etc. etc. And of course, every day keep the baby healthy, happy, and secure.

So far...I have started knitting a scarf and playing with some Photoshop actions that I bought an embarrassingly long time ago:

My images are so all going to be vignetted going forward.

Oh, and we started putting C to bed an hour earlier (possible because we are able to eat dinner an hour earlier) and she still sleeps until the same time in the morning. A whole new hour at night!

Other than that, pretty much just keeping the baby healthy, happy, and secure. Except for that cold. Damn. I have been keeping up the laundry at least--no small task with a super spitter up kiddo, and cloth diapering!

C continues to crack us up:

Example 1: "Daddy! You forgot that I don't like turkey. Well, I like the turkey that comes from a pig, just not the turkey that comes from a turkey."

Example 2: *warning: do not read this one if you/your wife have not already given birth, as it exposes truths that you need not know about before then* She likes to grab my post baby tummy and squeal "Oh, I love this chubby tummy! It is so chubby and cute! I just love this tummy! Are you pregnant mommy? [pauses] I am just kidding!" [This one cracks me up on the days it doesn't make me burst into tears, but G sure thinks it is funny.]

Teacher appreciation week at C's school. She was supposed to relate something that she appreciated about each of her teachers, which we wrote on a card to be compiled into a book for each teacher. Ms. J is her usual teacher, who has been out for a few weeks with a broken leg. Ms. C is her replacement.

Us: "C, what do you appreciate about Ms. J?"

C: "Well, when I am doing work with the binomial cubes [this is a Montessori school, also, she pronounced it dinomial], she gets the big binomial cube down for me."

Us: "And what do you appreciate about Ms. C?"

C: "She does things different from Ms. J."

Us: "But name a specific thing."

C: "Well, I don't really like the big binomial cube, so she doesn't get it down for me."

Hopefully Ms. J won't read Ms. C's book of appreciation.

Hard to get pictures of the baby when she is constantly attached to me in one way or another.

Sometimes when we are out and about with C I think about ordering a shirt (for myself) that says "Yes, she picks her own outfits". This day was a case in point.

Back to the baby though. She weighed 11 lbs. on Thursday (in a onesie, pants, and cloth diaper though, so probably closer to 10.5 lbs. for baby alone). So my worries when she slept a 7 hour stretch on Sunday night was completely unfounded. I should have appreciated it more, now that she is back to 2 - 3 hour stretches.

Next Thursday M turns one month old, and the next day G leaves for Boston for a week. Not sure if I am up for a Mother's Day brunch with the two girls on my own.