16 lbs 9 oz of pure love

Gillian had her 1 year appointment on Monday. It's a bit of hopeful angst that leads up to a doctor's visit...you hope the doctor is pleased with the overall development of your baby, you hope she is gaining weight well, and you hope that she is excelling developmentally. It's really quite strange how the milestone issue weighs on you, even though you know every baby develops at her own pace. I mean everyone wants to think their baby is super smart or super able...and if they don't measure up, maybe it says something about the job you are doing as a parent, and if they do, then it's clear you are doing an extra fine job as a parent. Right?

It happened that I had to take G to the visit (and take off work), which is just fine because if ever there was an anal-retentive Type-A-bordering-on-neurotic Mama, here I am. I have way too many questions to NOT be the one taking her. And the same way I enjoy therapy, I enjoy taking my daughter to the doctor (well, except the immunizations part-we could all do without that). With Gillian, I just want to have my beliefs/theories verified by my super-fabulous doctor, and I could talk about her all day to anyone who will listen, and he's getting paid to listen (and not by me...could it get any better?).

During her exam I felt a lot like the construction worker in "One Froggy Evening"-you know, that Bugs Bunny cartoon where the guy finds this frog with a cane and tophat who can sing and dance, tries to exploit him for money...except the frog simply acts like a frog in front of other people. I answered questions about G's development and eating habits (still annoying), but she sure wasn't interested in showing off any of her fabulous skills. In fact, she even acted afraid (of a latex glove puppet Dr. C. lovingly made for her) when we were there, and she is never afraid of anything.

So, my unease and tinge of frustration for her not being her charming self got me to thinking about why I was feeling the way I felt. Do I want her to be walking and talking and eating like a 5-year-old to prove how advanced she is? Do I want to rush past this precious, sweet stage where she kicks her little legs in pure delight when I walk in the back door after work and gets that brilliant smile on her face, because that's the best she can do to say "i am so happy to see you!"? I'm pretty convinced that reaction is better than words... Why do we put such value in milestones? Is it some ego boost for us as parents, or are we happy to see our children becoming little people? Maybe we, as their parents, simply rejoice in their accomplishments as we undoubtedly will the rest of their lives...

But, when I sit and think about it, I don't care if she isn't drinking only from a cup yet, or pulling up, or trying to walk. I don't care whether or not she is associating words and objects. I want her to be a baby right now, and I don't want to push her to be anything else. When she's 17 and she's broken my heart, and I can never have these days back, these days where she is still my precious baby, will I be sorry she walked at 18 months instead of 12? Or will I think about the cherished moments like the ones we spend every night in the bath and nursing to sleep in the rocking chair? I already feel like she is growing up too fast. I already feel like she looks like a little girl and not a baby anymore. And it's sad...and bittersweet.

Just a bit of self-indulgent fluff

Can I just say how much fun it is now that we try to make EACHOTHER laugh?

Our (mostly) Fabulous 'Hood

We made a conscious decision two years ago to buy a big condo in this neighborhood in lieu of a house in the suburbs or even a house in a neighborhood further inland. The idea of being landlocked frankly made us both feel like we might smother, so we decided to stay here, in Rogers Park. True, it's not a perfect neighborhood, but it has character (and characters, for that matter). The truly great things are 1) the diversity/people (I think it's the most ethnically diverse neighborhood in the country); 2) the proximity to the lake and the lake parks; and 3) the proximity to public transportation (Metra or the El). So we stayed here because we love it here. I was reminded of how much I love this neighborhood (and why) Wednesday.

Wednesday was a truly magical morning. It was beautiful, and cool, and breezy. Gillian gleefully ate a huge breakfast, which always puts me in fine spirits, and I was giddy to get us out and enjoy the gorgeous weather. We got in the stroller and headed out. There was a great breeze to blow through our hair, the sun was out, there were beautiful flowers poking through fences for G to try and grab, and the park, the fabulous park that is just 2 blocks from our house, was enchanted.

In the early morning, the park and the beach are so quiet. The sun was glinting off of the lake like a million diamonds, and everyone you passed gave you that "happy-enjoying-the peace-and-quiet" smile. If you don't live here, you don't know the luxury of having a place like this so close to home. A place where you collect beach glass instead of sea shells, where you can play soccer, tennis, barbeque, and go swimming three minutes from your house, and where there are 10 ft of magnificent glaciers on the shore in the winter... Anyway, here are a few pics of the heart of our neighborhood:

Sharing

So, G's big thing lately is sharing. It is very nice of her to offer me half gummed pieces of banana and the last of her blueberries. She is delighted when I accept and quickly offers another.

The sweetest thing so far that she has offered me (well, besides her kisses) was last night: drops of water she tried to catch between her little fingers at bathtime.

Happy Birthday, Baby

What is this day with two suns in the sky?
Day unlike other days,
with a great voice giving it to the planet,
Here it is, enamored beings, your day!

birth day with Papa

birth day, eyes open


Keep walking, though there's noplace to get to.
Don't try to see through the distances. That's not for human beings.
Move within, BUT DON'T MOVE THE WAY FEAR MAKES YOU MOVE.

My first visit with her-Day 2

Hands

belly distended-magnesium sulfate, day 2; I am still swollen

IV in arm bound; right hand bruised from unsuccessful IV insertion; still, she had a beautiful little face


Love comes with a knife, not with some shy question.
Love is a madman, working his wild schemes,
tearing off his clothes, running through the mountains,
drinking poison, and now quietly choosing annihilation.

You've been walking the ocean's edge,
holding up your robes to keep them dry.
You must dive under and deeper under,
a thousand times deeper! Love flows down.

Let the cords of your robe be untied.
Shiver in this new love above all, above and below.
The sun rises, but which way does night go? I have no more words.
Let the soul speak with the silent articulation of a face.

with her beautiful blanket, knitted by a volunteer, streeeetchh...


Taking ownership of our child, navigating our fear and the wires for kangaroo care-the anchoring of her tiny hands and feet in Sean's chest and tummy hair was the impetus for her first nickname, "Monkey"

Our daily ritual-5 or 6 hours of just breathing together




Silliness, and without the NG tube for the first time!


A thousand half-loves
must be forsaken to take
A whole heart home

leaving the NICU at last...after 7 weeks and 2 days; she weighed 4 lbs on the dot


At home, where she belongs, infinitely loved


The best gift, ever.


Fast Forward 1 year:





Hear blessings dropping their blossoms around you. God. -Rumi

"Crawling"

This post is called "crawling" because Gillian doesn't really crawl, exactly....she kinda crawls, but mostly scoots around. Amazingly, she is getting quick enough to follow me around. Even more amazingly, no matter how recently the floor was mopped, there is enough cat hair to knit a sweater stuck to her diaper by the time I change it.

We are in ernest going to have to really start paying attention to what's on the floor, because Gillian is finely tuned in to details and likes nothing better than a little present on the beaten path, or even on the side of the beaten path. Little presents go in her mouth. Examples of things I had to fish out of her mouth in the past 24 hours:

1) wood chips from the bottom of Sean's shoes
2) a piece of plastic that broke off the pull cord for the blinds (I went after where I saw it go, and by the time I turned around, Gillian had another piece of it in her mouth)
3) cat food
4) A God-knows-how-old blueberry
5) small wad of cat hair from some an inconspicuous corner
6) small clump of lint from the laundry room when she was helping me fold stuff
7) dental floss (the trashcan in the bathroom is now a problem I hadn't forseen).

Anyhoo, life certainly is more interesting now that I have to be hawkishly vigilant every second lest my child choke to death on something completely tasteless, but interesting enough looking to try anyway.

Another milestone-her first top tooth has come through her gums. I wasn't hallucinating! Maybe my intuition is becoming more tuned in...YAY-the recent whining and low grade fever had immediate results.

I leave you with a video of the zigzag scoot (which you saw a little of in the pen video below). It's not glamorous, but it works. And we're all pragmatic around here. Oh, and she is a very chatty girl, obviously.

The unfortunate thing about piecemeal motor skills

Growing is fun, and frustrating, judging by Gillian's general disposition as she learns new things and acquires new skills. She is now waving and pointing with purpose (the pointing is exciting for us, because now we can name what she is pointing at, which I assume will help with word-object associations). She likes nothing better than beginning a fresh morning with raiding her toy basket-it's like Christmas every day how she delights in pulling things out one by one, examining it intently, then putting it aside to pull out the next thing.

The recent challenge for her is that she has figured out how to sit up from a lying down position BUT cannot lie down from a sitting position. Since she learned to do this in her crib (we caught her red-handed holding onto the leg of one of the animals in her mobile, which was going "click-click-click" instead of rotating and playing music, sitting up and mighty proud of herself), it presents a problem. Especially when a) she doesn't feel like going to bed when she really should (she will sit up to play as soon as we leave the room, and then there is no way she can go to sleep, and re-entry to lay her back down gets her all excited thinking she's getting rescued); b) she wants to go to sleep but is sitting up and doesn't know how to lay down; and c) the very nice mobile is very long, and even with lowering her mattress, she can still grab it and eventually, we assume, she will break it.

This morning was very painful. She woke up very early and sat up and had to be put back down in a laying position; she woke for a second time at 4:15 (very early for her lately) and after nursing, we put her back in her crib. Within moments, we heard the tell tale "click-click-click" which told us she was not only sitting up, but torturing the mobile. I went in to try laying her back down and rubbing her back. Instead of being soothed to sleep, she pulled her knees under her belly and pushed up to sitting right there in front of me and raised her arms up and started pontificating. About what, I'm still not sure. I picked her up and brought her back to bed, where she yapped and yelled and sang and played with my hair and kicked both of our backs (we hoped by ignoring her, she would settle down). No dice. We tried giving her more milk. Nope. We tried rocking her and giving her more milk and putting her back in her crib. When I left a little after 6, she was in there yelling and yapping and singing, two hours+ after she awoke last. Probably as she was sitting up. And even if she wanted to go to sleep she probably couldn't. This will be one of my unfavorite phases, I can tell.

And to top if off, whining and low grade fever are back. Teeth or threat of teeth imminent. At least it seems like it. But, I have learned a little humility here- he who thinks he knows knows not and is delusional. Particularly in parenthood. It took 2 months between her first sure teething symtoms and teeth with the bottom two, so I'm not holding my breath.

Through the looking glass

There is this really cute baby that follows Gillian everywhere, but that we can only see when she is in front of the mirror. Gillian is intrigued, entertained, and delighted by her. And she likes to give her kisses...

A Different Kind of Dinner

So, we have been struggling with the fact that our very petite little girl has been stubbornly refusing solids for weeks now. From us. By Spoon. These last two items are the operative concepts here. We have discovered that our girl is exerting her independence and has been trying to tell us she doesn't NEED, or more importantly, WANT us to feed her anymore. After all, she is a whopping and mature 9 months adjusted age, and can do things for herself now.

We started by letting her play with her dinner without wiping her face and hands in between and trying to stay too tidy (which she hates). After the third meal where the plate of pureed mush hit the floor (on purpose) we decided "no more purees". She isn't using the spoon except to play with, and all purees do is get ground into the highchair, her skin, and her hair. She doesn't eat any of them, as far as I can tell. So, no more "baby food" purees. Gillian has decided they make better paint than food.

We have opted for soft or quickly dissolvable food for breakfast and dinner, resist the urge to wipe her off till the end, and don't try feeding her anything (she will turn her face away even if you try to feed her a piece of something off your finger, but will fish it off the tray to feed herself). The result? No more fussing when we strap her into the highchair, and more food getting into her than when we try to feed her. That's not to say she's eating a lot, because she is still incapable of super efficient hand-to-mouth activity, but more is getting in there.