Stop! Abby time!

We had a wonderful week with Abby this past week.  She stayed with us from Monday to Saturday.  We had a big time.

On Monday, we went out for lunch.

Fortunately they had TVs everywhere so Genevieve was entertained.

 You know my child loves her "stories."

G loves to watch her Baby Einstein DVDs.  Today we actually watched the 9 month "Old MacDonald"  DVD.

G is advanced, you know.

Advanced in watching on screen puppetry.

Abby hunkered down and didn't leave the house with G.  The weather was pretty miserable, so they just did the Genevieve circuit.

Underwater activity mat, Bumbo chair, read books, tummy time, bouncy seat, carry her around for a while, bottle, nap, repeat.

On Friday we braved the snow for G's 4 month well baby visit.

She was actually closer to 4 1/2 months by the time we had our appointment. 

Abby carried our little giraffe out to the car.

Check out the feet coming from the carseat buckle hole in that bunting.

You will all be pleased to know that G remains in the 95th percentile in all areas.

Our lady love is 25 1/2 inches long and weighs 17 lbs.

I don't know about the head, since I don't really pay attention to that.

Circumference isn't my game.

The head is proportional to the rest of her.

We had a special delivery on our doorstep today.

Genevieve now has her very own little lounger with ottoman.

Wellie's friend sent it to us from New Jersey.

We just have to master the art of sitting up and then we'll be all set.

Thanks and love to Abby for a great week!

Family Happenings

Blogging and working aren't mixing so well.

I will try to recap some of our family outings of late.

Last weekend we went to Fountain Square to putz around.

Trinity matched his fleece to G's stroller.

Li'l Miss Rosy Cheeks wasn't sure about our adventure.

I just kept saying things like, "You're such an urban baby.  Do it, G!"  

With my encouragement, her confidence in big city life grew.

We ate lunch at La Margarita.

Trinity and I gorged ourselves on chips and pico, while Genevieve stayed strong with her synthetic la leche.

I patronize establishments that house kitties as residents.  This business was closed, and I have no idea what they peddle, but I shall be back.  I must pet that kitty.

She sashayed back and forth in front of the door as I cooed at her.  

What a kitty tease!

Genevieve has been working on playing the bongoes.  I'm not sure if I spelled that correctly.  I used the rule of -oes that goes with tomato and avocado when you make those words plural.

YaYa prepped her so she could join Uncle Robby's ukelele one man band.  

She rocked this little kimono for daycare on Wednesday.  

This photo was taken so early.

Today I told Genevieve that we were invited to Camille's Cake Boss themed birthday party.

She was pumped.

I asked her if she wanted to go, and to answer "Yay or Nay."

Instead I got a neigh.

That was seriously punny.

She wore her sweet horse sweater that was a gift from Allison.

The birthday girl was ready to par-tay.

Camille loves cake like I love cake.

Her mother had worked very hard to create an aura of cakiness.

Marinda made this lollipop tree.

She and Camille made aprons for all of the party guests because cake decorating was one of the main activities.  She picked out the fabric and ribbon and they SEWED them.  I mean, really.  Marinda doesn't fool around.  

Camille made a special little apron for Genevieve.  She measured using her Cabbage Patch doll.

How cute is that?

Sweet G is clearly a little bit larger than a Cabbage Patch doll.  The apron fit like a little bib.  Such a hoot.

There were cake shaped cake pops.

I just love this one.

G looks like a little cake pop herself in that apron.

Marinda has got me thinking of Genevieve's 1st birthday party already.

I must work on my theme.

I only have 8 months.

Since I'm so detail oriented, it will take that long.

I'm kidding.  I am the least detail oriented person alive.

I also am not a "big picture" person.

I'm more a "I don't really notice any of my surroundings" person.

Thanks,  Miss Camille for the great soiree!

4 Months of Motherhood

 I blinked and 4 months have passed since I met my bunny love.

What an alert little bunny she was when I first saw her.

G's prettiness from the get go is a total endorsement for a C-section.

We took her home and started the glider photo sessions with Fancy Nancy and Monsieur LeSqueak.

Let's recap, shall we?

Our first shot went a tad awry.

At one month she was a bit happier.

By 2 months she had more hair.  

And growing thighs.

Speaking of hair, the flower stem made her look like Alfalfa when she was 3 months old.  

I took her 4 month picture on Saturday, and she wasn't too happy about it.  

Her sweet little face is chapped all to hell because she tries to swallow her own fist constantly.

Excessive drooling is a 4 month developmental milestone.

She's cornered the market on that skill.

She brings such joy to our lives, when I'm not trying to get her to nap.

At 4 months Lady G:

eats about 30 oz of formula a day,

sleeps pretty consistently from 7:30 p.m-6 a.m, then takes a bottle and will sleep another 2 hours if she can,

actually enjoys time on her tummy now

laughs at me whenever she is awake,

hates to take baths and loves to listen to me read books.

I have a little confession.

Oooooo, juicy.

So, after my privacy proclamation I got some very lovely emails that made me feel ever so special.

I found out my sister's neighbor and I are now internet BFFs.

I got a few emails from friends who I had no idea read my funnies.

It was all very gratifying.

My brother set up Google Analytics on this little ole blog for me, and I have had about 2 weeks of fun tracking my readers on a map.

It will show me a map each day of cities and states in the United States where people are reading.

I have had no activity from Russia.

My only international reading is from my pal Melissa in Singapore.

I know her.

It has been so fun for me.

I pretend to be Nancy Drew and then I set up my pleasantly plump and pudgy friend Bess, aka Genevieve next to me in the Bumbo.  I say things like, "Bess, we have another hit from Paris, Tennessee.  Who do you think it is?" 

Bess really is not helpful since she can't talk.

She just laughs.

My point is, I don't seem to have randos reading this thingy.  I seem to be able to identify people I know in every ciudad.

Except Mission, Kansas.

This is killing Nancy and Bess, since we can't figure it out.

If you are my person in Mission, Kansas, do email me.

My super sleuthing skills can only carry me so far.

And by my super sleuthing skills, I mean Robby's.

So for now, I see no reason to go all password on this.

I'll let you know if that changes.

Hugs!

Week 1 of this Working Mom Biznass

I am finally sitting down to blog after a long week.  My mom came in town on Sunday evening to help the 3 of us to ease into our new situation.  

I was literally up all night on Sunday night.  My anxiety level was through the roof.  Oh, and I wasn't even sending her to daycare on Monday.  She was going to be home all day with YaYa.  Monday morning was ugly.

As in U-G-L-Y, you ain't got no alibi.

You ugly.

My darling colleagues made my day tolerable, with kind notes, hugs and dark chocolate.

I also had at least 10 conversations with young children about how the baby is no longer in my belly, but now at home.

That be some confusing info for the elementary crowd.  

Mind blowing.

Mom sent pictures throughout the week to ease the sadness.

The rest of the week G went to daycare for a few hours each day.

Mom stayed at home and did things like shop at Target, clean my house, and go to Starbucks.  Mostly she went to Target and Starbucks.  There's a Starbucks in the Target, so that is like heaven for a YaYa.

G was able to catch up on some light reading while I was away.  

Right here she is undoubtedly thinking about Jesus.

I've already worked on making daycare think I'm crazy.  The director had told me that if it is easier in the morning, I can leave Genevieve in her sleeper/pajamas and they can change her later.

On Wednesday morning I had my early morning meeting, so I took her in her footed sleeper.

I explained when I dropped her off that I brought her clothes for the day, and when they got a chance I wanted them to dress her.

One of the ladies said, "That's fine, but we want you to know this isn't a fashion parade.  She can stay in her sleeper all day.  It's actually easier for us."  

Oh, my.

You clearly don't know me.

I now have a real life baby doll that I get to dress everyday who is way cuter than Samantha Parkington ever was.  

This IS a fashion parade.

And Genevieve is the grand marshall. 

I have to ease these darling folks into my quirkiness, so I said, "if you have time, please change her."

Mom picked her up a few hours and later and sent me this picture.

What?

Shut the front door.

My baby was wearing her sleeper AND a bib.

I'm slowly embracing that the bib is a necessity, since she is constantly drooling and can manage to stick her entire fist in her mouth.

So gross and yet so precious.

I'm glad I work with darling girls who are mothers and also are reasonable people, unlike me.

Marinda asked me why I was so upset about the sleeper.

I said, "How much do you accomplish when you wear your pjs all day?"

She asked me what I expected Genevieve to accomplish.

Good point.

Certainly not expense reports.  

After deep pondering, I explained that sleepers are for sleeping, and rompers are for romping and other clothes are for clothing.  

I want a clear distinction between night attire for sleeping and daywear for playing/accomplishing feats of baby strength.

I'm not making any unrealistic demands, thanks to conversations with friends.  

However, guess who will never be wearing a sleeper again to daycare?

My chile-

My Final Week of Maternity Leave

This week has been a bit sad for me, as I am going back to work on Monday.  We have been kicking up our activities in preparation, and one of them included finally hanging pictures from our photo shoot with my pal Kathy.

Uncle Robby did the honors.  He has quite an eye for picture hanging.  He requires no level.  

He is now a jack of all trades and his current talents include playing the ukelele and creating delicious dishes in his dutch oven.

Hilarious.

Genevieve had a trial day at her daycare on Thursday.

I bunnied her up so at least the ladies would find her precious if she chose to scream her head off the entire time I was gone.

I was an anxious mess when I dropped her off.  Much to my surprise she went straight to Miss Roseanne and quickly became engrossed in looking at Nora, another precious baby.  Nora is two weeks younger than G, but at least 6 lbs lighter.

G's "class" has 5 girls including her and one boy.

Baby girl gots more hair and girth than any of those other babes, and two of them are 5 months old.

She sat on Miss Roseanne's lap and was like, "peace out, Mom."

No tears. No drama.

I was relieved.

Or maybe I was a smidge disappointed.

Mothers know what I mean.  

You want your baby to be well adjusted and go to others because then you get a break.

But if you're honest with yourself, or with anyone who reads your blog, you will admit that there is a tiny bit of satisfaction in being this little person's favorite person.

There, I said it.

That same day we received a text message from Abby and Papi wishing us a Happy feast day for Saint Genevieve.

St. Genevieve's feast day is January 3rd.

St. Genevieve is the patron saint of Paris.

She persuaded its occupants to remain there, pray and fast when Attila the Hun was raging towards the city.

Lo and behold, he unexpectedly changed his course and the city was spared.

I believe this is considered her miracle.

The only thing I ever experienced from fasting was a serious headache and dizziness.

G's name is pronounced "Jean(rhymes with Shawn)-vee-ev" in French.

That's the best I can do phonetically.

Since everyday is a feast day for our little lady, I had to do something to make it special.  We read Madeline, I called her by her French name, said Bonjour and Mademoiselle a lot and I ate french fries in her honor.  

It was memorable.

On Friday my Aunt Cindi came to babysit and I went to barre pilates and for an oil change.

Cindi brought her Christmas gift.

I was trying to decide if they fit, so I still have the tags on here.  G's reaction was a hoot.

What?  Theze be Uggs?

Theze be a luxury for a baby!

I love, I love!!!

Uh oh.

Expensive boots throw off me equilibrium.

AHHHHHHHH!

Piper down!

We have a Piper down.

I'm not sure why I imagine that my daughter's inner voice is like LOL Cat talk.

If you are unfamiliar with LOLcats, I highly recommend it.

New Year, Schmew Year

Well, happy 2013 to all of my loyal readers!  I have a long history of loathing New Year's Eve, and this year was no exception.  We started the day by running out for a little family outing to the mall.  I dressed my daughter as Sergeant Pepper, or Captain Kangaroo.  Take your pick.

I now just adore dressing her for outings, and relish in people telling me my child is beautiful, cute, darling, etc.

I am totally becoming Patsy Ramsay.

No flipper yet, so don't get too concerned.

She needs some teeth for that, I've learned.

She cheered on IU in her Bumbo, wearing this little number.

When I put this little onesie number on her, I noticed that it was a little tight as I pulled it down over her head.  When I went to remove it, I was quickly reminded that her head is in like the 90th percentile.

Damn, it got stuck.

Parents, you know this moment, at least those of you with big noggined children do.  

Screaming ensued.

Up, down, which way do I pull it?

I made a split second decision and yanked it off over her head, knowing it had to come off at some point.

I think I removed some of her eyebrows and she may have relived her exit through the birth canal, had she been privileged enough to experience that in the first place.

It was awful.

Baby girl was in pain.

I rushed out to Trinity for consolation, thus cracking her ankle on the door frame.  At that juncture, she lost her sh**.  

Her mother had inflicted some serious pain on her, and she was going to go out of 2012 with a bang.

Lots and lots of screaming.

I nearly cried.

It's one thing to try to console a baby who is crying for some unknown reason.  It's quite another to know it's because you are an idiot mother who put a too small onesie on her giant head and then rammed her into the door casing.

Guilt, I tell you.

Finally, things settled down.

T and I relaxed on the couch.

It was very different from my favorite NYE in Chicago when I famously announced to Courtney and Elizabeth that " I just made out with the band."

Courtney's response, "No, you didn't.  You're drunk and you just went to the bathroom."

Touche.

You know who wasn't sitting around like old farts?

G's grandparents.

Abby and Papi sent this text of the two of them celebrating, Bonefish Grill style.

I love that place.

There weren't gloating at all.

Nope, not one bit.

They even wished us a happy new year!

Pat proves that she is indeed at my favorite place.

YaYa and Bob rang in the new year with their friends.  This crew has been partying together on NYE for the past 30 years.  

Mom reported things got particularly exciting this year, and most of them stayed until 10:30.

Woot.

Stinky hound guarded the beef tenderloin.

So the 60 something crowd (minus Pat who is still hanging in at 59) totally rocked it out.

We spent our eve watching our little lady fist pump, Jersey Shore style.

We are transitioning her out of the swaddle, and she currently is now sleeping feet out, and left arm out.   She gets that left arm going in bed, and either fist pumps or roundhouses it like she's playing in a recreational women's softball league.

The NYE arm got pretty crazy.

She got it going at one point and was squawking and it was a bit like that moment in Roadhouse where Patrick Swayze decides to clean up the bar.

Only she didn't have a knife.

I was asleep by 9:15.

I won't lie about it.

You would know I was lying anyway, and then all blog relationships would cease.

This morning we drank our coffee from the beautiful hand-painted mugs that niece Caroline made for us.

Yeah, they're not dishwasher safe.

Now we have some white mugs.

#1 Aunt failure of 2013!

Happy New Year!!!!