Monday, December 31, 2007

The Lover

Our girl has a big heart. She is intense about her love, and takes it very seriously. Yesterday at church, she captivated an older boy. We sit in the "parents of young children" section, where she can roam the back of the church unfettered. There are pews withing 10 feet of this little area, and Gillian immediately scooted up to the back pew and started waiving at two little boys (maybe about 2 and 5 years old) sitting with their parents. She kept trying to stand up and touch the older one's hands, and after a while retrieved her ball from where we were camped out and offered it to him. His dad let him leave the pew to play with Gillian, and he would very gently toss the ball to her and fetch it when she threw it (what a great kid he is, really). Sitting close to him, she got THAT look after about 15 minutes of this...the look that says "right at this moment, I love you with all my tiny being" as she sat facing him. She leaned in for the kiss, and he let her kiss him, and then she wrapped her little arms around him for a hug. I don't know about anyone else, but I was very, very proud of her in that moment for 1) having allowed that depth of emotion within herself; and 2) not being afraid to express herself to That Which She Loves. They continued to play, we all went for communion, and then it was time to go. It felt like her new friend might cry when he came over to give her a hug goodbye (and what a sweet boy to do that-I could tell that it touched Gillian and made her happy that he loved her back). That whole exchange blew me away.

It just begs the question of whether or not we LEARN to love or whether it's inherent. I mean, she adores people, animals, and certain other inanimate things. I find myself wanting to be more like Gillian-she is wide open. Her love flows freely in and out. Her eyes are wide an innocent and give her away every time. When she gets intense, you can feel her little love energy coming at you full force, and it is powerful. She gets quiet. She looks you right in the eyes. She kisses you and/or hugs you and backs away, holding your gaze. She means it. Then the spell is broken and she's off chattering and playing and being a baby. But seriously, there are moments of Yogi-master-wise here-and-nowness that floors me. One of my resolutions this year is to break my heart wide open...to get back to that place. Ironic that the perfect example of mindfulness in my life is a 15 month old toddler.

An aside:

I had mentioned her love of my feet. This morning I videoed a foot love-fest. I can only assume she learned from me kissing her feet all the time. I don't think my feet have ever been so adored my whole life. And she doesn't love everyone's feet like she loves mine. Mine are special. For some reason.

Sunday, December 30, 2007

Imitation is the best form of flattery...

Like father, like daughter. Folks, this is just one of the fine skills we are teaching our child. Can't you just see her little synapses multiplying from exploring this new skill?!?

Friday, December 28, 2007

Christmas

Last Saturday we headed down to New Orleans for Christmas. The airport was absolutely crazy (and I usually fly a lot, and this was crazy even for crazy days), and for once, it was a good thing our flight was delayed, or we would have missed it. I believe I have mentioned before how ridiculously one's luggage volume grows with the inclusion of things for Baby. Needless to say, thank God for the overpriced carts you can rent to haul the carseat, the bags, the diaper bag, the laptop, and whatever else you decide you can't live without for 5 days. Anyway, the flight was delayed 2 hours...then we sat on the tarmac for 45 minutes...then we finally got airborne and Gillian-for all the potential circumstances gave her for a good old fashioned meltdown-nursed to sleep and stayed asleep (and stayed latched, with her two top teeth etching permanent toothmarks into my delicate flesh-but far be it from me to excavate the teeth, much less even breathe hard, in a mighty effort to keep her sleeping) for about an hour and fifteen minutes. She awoke like a cheerful little sunrise, and was just thrilled to have our undivided attention for an hour (the remainder of the flight). These days she's totally into lounging back and looking through books with people, and playing with her stuffed animals.

We arrived to a ghost town of an airport in New Orleans, and after watching the luggage carousel for about a half an hour so hopefully, it became clear that our bags weren't there. But, here's the silver lining-the carseat WAS there! At least they lost the right stuff instead of the thing that would cause us to have a moral quandry about how to get to our destination in the rental car. Anyhoo, the bags were coming in on the flight from Chicago that was arriving a few hours after ours, and they promised to deliver it that day to our doorstep. No worries. Then we went to the car rental place. As we waited for the shuttle, it occurred to me that it was humid and warm out. Nice. When we got to the car rental place, we waited for 45 minutes to be helped. With a baby, who, for whatever reason, was in fine spirits. Laughing, and smiling at everybody, and playing a game that involved trying to catch and trying to throw her stuffed dog. It is still a mystery why not one of the five other employees who were standing around volunteered to help us (while the one employee flirted with the guy in front of us for 45 minutes). Then I remembered how I so enjoy the service sector down south, and gave silent thanks that I don't have to deal with it more often.

We arrived at Aunt Mimi and Uncle Dave's 8.5 hours after we left our house that morning. I reckoned that was about twice as long as it should have taken. We got G down for a nap upon our arrival, and she slept a couple of hours. The bags were delivered at 11:45 pm, and all was good in the world.

Our stay down south was wonderful...every day started with a laid back morning drinking tea and hanging out with the O'Leary clan (Sean's dad's sister's family...99% of our family in New Orleans is his mother's family, but Mimi has lived there since college). We ate too much. We drank too much (not in one sitting, but still...). We saw the remarkable transformation of Sean's dad Bill into Santa Claus to deliver gifts to the great-grandchildren on Christmas eve. Gillian got a "Mary Jane" doll that is super special-she is the third generation in the family to receive them (all the girls have one handmade). Suzi's was made by her grandmother; Kim (Sean's sister) has one made by Adee (her grandmother); and now Gillian has one made by her grandmother. It is such a sweet idea, and Suzi says the pattern is in tatters, but still does the trick. Gillian pretty much kissed her all night. She held her own in the insanity of all the other kids, and was undaunted by the yelling, laughing, rough housing, and general chaos around her.

At Audoban park, we saw real live ducks that looked just like the ones on Gillian's treasured shoes, who she quacked at as if she was the Duck Whisperer as they gathered around her to eat the bread she had. I am pretty sure I have never seen her that excited in her entire life (think feet going, hyperventilating, hysterical arm waving while yelling "CACK-CACK-CACK-CACK" like a crazy person).




Grandaddy treated G to some Roman Candy Man taffy (which she wasn't sure what to think of). Of course, we couldn't leave without a Cafe au Lait and beignets from Cafe Du Monde and 30 lbs of crawfish (which cost us roughly 1/3 per pound what we would pay here). The crawfish purchase officially means we are back on for the 5th annual Mardi Gras celebration at Chez Colledge. Hope you all will come!

It was restful and most excellent trip. It was funny to see how excited Gillian was to see all her familiar things when we got home. In spite of my best intentions, I did NOT work on my thesis while down south for Christmas in spite of the fact that I promised the pre-defense draft to my Committee members by the 28th. That means that Thursday night (a work night) I was up till 3:30 in the morning finishing up my references for each chapter...and 2 hours later, got up to go to work. I didn't know I was capable of pulling an all-nighter anymore, but I guess you can make yourself do just about anything if you have no other choice. In Friday's blizzard, I delivered 5 pristine copies to my advisor to distribute to the committee...so, now I am sooooooooooooo close. I just need to remember one thing over then next 11 days: BREATHE.

Sunday, December 16, 2007

Winter odds and ends

Today we took Gillian on a toboggan for the first time. She loved playing in it and sliding across the beautiful snow we got yesterday and the day before. Even when she wiped out, she was too excited to worry about it. In fact, she was so wired when we got home that she skipped her morning nap in lieu of running around the house like a madwoman, yapping up a storm. Last year she was oblivious to the majesty, and sometimes cabin fever, winter brings. This year, she is drinking it in like a sponge.

I've been sparse around here lately. As I mentioned, life is just complicated and ultra-busy right now. Needless to say, my fascination with Gillian is still complete, and her fascination with the world is amazing, and humbling to observe. I would call this phase the "Kissy-and-still-not-walking" Phase. She kisses everything...and I mean everything. The weirdest thing is my feet (which is a little strange-I always hope she doesn't decide to give them some lovin' in public...say, church, for example, in front of those other parents who might wonder about us). She coos. She pets them like they're the cat ("good feet" I hear her thinking). She kisses them several times in a row, talks to them, and kisses them some more. She kissed her ball in the kitchen today, after an appreciative pat and a few words. Luckily, Sean and I are both the fortunate recipients of clusters of kisses numerous times a day as well. Gillian is a lovebug, and it is so sweet to see her express that. Oh, and she has gotten so freakishly fast at the crab crawl that she still isn't walking and doesn't seem too interested in it, either. She cruises, she pulls up, but that's it.

We're still holding at four teeth and still frustrated with her picky eating (Ha! I remember when I would say, "MY children will eat what I give them!" as if I had some control over the matter (maybe when you can actually reason with your child, that rule could work)...the truth is that you get so desperate for them to eat something that you compromise your previous and extremely well-intentioned but uninformed opinions). Right now she likes (and "likes" just means a piece or two might make it into her mouth, not that she gleefully eats a serving) macaroni and cheese (organic, at least), and cheese, and bread, and peanut butter...and veggie burgers mixed with mashed potatoes and peas (the ONLY vegetables I can get her to eat). She tolerates a few bites of eggs every now and then. She LOVES crackers. Every time we sit down to eat, she points to above the refrigerator where we keep them and says "cack-uh, cack-uh, cack-uh!!" Clearly, she can't have crackers at every meal... Today she even peppered whining with some"mamamamamama". Not sure if she means me, or she just likes the sound. Her three words are "Hi", "cack-uh", and "kuhh" (cheese)..."Mama" might be fourth, but I'll have to get back to you on that. She enunciates "K" for kitty (nothing else), "T" for toes, and "buh" for bottle, bulb (Christmas tree bulb), and ball.

Anyway, I never knew what a struggle it would be to get my child to eat. Last week I was so upset after making her something she completely rejected-and threw on the floor- (without even tasting it) that I left the table and the kitchen, smacking away some tears of utter frustration. I took some deep breaths, came back in, and calmly took the tray away...and cleaned up the food all over the floor. Then she started saying "cack-uh!". *sigh*

I guess at the end of the day, some patches are easier than others, and some babies are more easy going in some ways than others. I mean, Gillian has always permitted us to get excellent sleep, and still goes down like a lamb; she is secure in large groups of people, and will venture away from us to check stuff out without a second thought, she occupies herself extremely well and can play for an hour or more with a intermittent visit every now and then, she is affectionate and thoughtful, and really funny and silly. Oh, and she has never pooped in the bathtub. But obviously, our sticking point is her solid food intake. She ate a lot better when we were feeding her exclusively breastmilk...these days she won't take a bottle from anyone but me, she won't drink whole milk, and all she will tolerate in her sippy cup is water (good ol' calorie-free water). When she has days where she eats pretty much nothing, that can be stressful. Anyway, I find myself of having to make a real effort not to let the food issue become a power issue.

That's a quick update. More to follow!

Thursday, December 6, 2007

Bye Bye Boobies

We are down to nursing twice a day now. It was inevitable with me working full time. At first I pumped three times a day at work for a few months, then twice a day for a few months, then the past month and a half or so, I was only pumping once a day. When I started getting just 2 or 3 ounces during that session, I decided I was officially over lugging my fraying pump backpack on the train every day (consequently, this coincided with having to start wearing my winter coat...the one where you have to dislocate your shoulders to get the backpack straps on and off). And I decided it wasn't worth the hassle of trying to get into the lactation room at work to wash the parts when I was finished. Pumping just sucks, people, and I have been pumping for going on 15 months, and I am tired.

When I work, G nurses in the morning before I go and when I put her down to bed. Both require supplementing with formula these days, and she seems to care less. In fact, if it takes me too long to let down she gives up and fusses and tries to sit up. She has to be relaxed (hence early morning, later evening) to be in the mood to wait. So, we're naturally waning, our breastfeeding sun is setting, and although it is sad, I have to say the idea of having my breasts back, all to myself, is a happy notion.

But, I have to tell you, the girls aren't exactly the same after working so hard the past 15 months. Suzi said they would be like deflated balloons. I hoped I might escape this fate, as I had heard the same from many other women. Even though I haven't completely run out of milk, I can see the hint of what I'm in for after G is done eating and we are empty. My former firm, round, pride and joy might become more like soft malleable crescent moons. But...I'll wear these butterflies with pride!