Monday, 18 February 2013

1/2 Birthday

Our baby girl is six months old today.

When she was a fresh little newborn (with the sweetest smelling head) I was in a store and spotted a cute outfit that was sizes 6-9 months.

"Wow," I thought, "I want to get this for her, but six months is ages away."

I didn't buy the outfit because it seemed to me she'd never grow into it. Six months. Impossible. Light years from now. But now here we are, six months to the day and our girl isn't a newborn, but a baby who is exerting her own unique personality and who has learned to give kisses.

And who is starting solids.

And who is learning to sit up.

And who likes to kick her socks off.

And who giggles like mad when I toss her in the air or when her daddy zooms her through the apartment on airplane rides.

Wasn't I just lying in my hospital bed with my little baby snuggled on my chest? I swear I was, because I remember everything about that day in exact detail. Like yesterday. Or, I guess, six months of yesterdays.

I guess cliches exist because there is no truer way to express something: time is flying. But it's also soaring, and twirling, and looping, and making me dizzy from being this drunk on love and wonder.

What an excellent ride.

Happy, happy, happy six months, baby girl!

Thursday, 14 February 2013

Happy Valentine's Day

Happy Valentine's Day, Internet.

LB and I baked these for you.

Wednesday, 13 February 2013

Not Thinking

I have a little bag of sea salt on my counter, and I use it for cooking. The bottom of the bag got a hole in it, so as I moved the bag to wipe down the counter about two teaspoons of salt emptied from the bag onto the counter.

I sighed in annoyance, natch, then swept those granules into my hand.

Then--out of nowhere--I had a flashback to Rachel Ray's 30 Minute Meals where she always used to throw a pinch if salt over her left shoulder for luck. "I need luck," I shrugged, so without even thinking I tossed the entire two teaspoons of salt over my shoulder!

I heard them scatter all over my kitchen floor!

It was a gritty walk to the broom cupboard, and let me tell you: I did a lot more than sigh in annoyance.

Thursday, 7 February 2013

Only In Switzerland (And Maybe Russia, Who Knows)

I think our LB might have hoarding tendencies like her dad: she picked up a cold a couple of weeks ago and is refusing to get rid of it.

It's not that bad and she thankfully doesn't have a bad cough, but she's been down and out and I have my fingers crossed that yesterday was the worst of it. It wasn't a good day. What's making her cold worse is the fact that her mother (that's me) hasn't figured out how napping works.

Remember in math class when you'd be struggling over some quadratic equations and whining, "I don't get it."

That's how I feel about napping.

I don't get it.

How does your baby nap consistently? How does your baby nap for longer then twenty minutes? How? How? How? HOW.

I have tried putting her down at the same times every day, and every day it's like, "Suck it mama, I'm not tired."

And she's not. So then I wait, and wait, and wait, and wait for some signs that she's tired, and she just keeps energizer bunnying about her day until...CRASH. Then it's all, "'Why didn't you anticipate this mama? I'M EXHAUSTED NOW."

And I'm all, "I tried! I tried! But you refused my napping offers! All of them! Funny Bunny, Lavendar, songs, favourite blankie. You just laughed at me and told me naps are for the weak!"

Then she goes into her crib for twenty minutes, and wakes up ready for more playtime, I can't get her back to sleep, and that one little twenty minute nap is all she gets in a day. But it's not enough, and I don't know what to do about it. She sleeps a lot at night so maybe the daytime nap isn't her jive, but try convincing a little one that to get over her cold the mighty nap is needed. It's not happening.

So yesterday was a trying day, and just when I thought all hope was lost for a nap she agreed to my napping offer. It was a miracle. I danced. She was out-out-out in a way you just knew meant that she'd sleep for at least an hour, maybe two, if her stuffy nose cooperated.

I kissed her little brow, tip-toed to my computer to do some work, and my fingers had just settled on the keys when the WE'RE BEING INVADED sirens started blaring in the village!

Yes, we still have WE'RE BEING INVADED sirens from the war! And once a year they run them to make sure they still work under the guise of, "We will use them to alert people to emergencies." I'll give you an emergency, Switzerland, because this year you screwed over the wrong woman! You tested out those bloody sirens during the only successful nap time I've had in weeks and weeks and weeks!


Of course she woke up, but then she started crying that gutting "I'm scared cry", and after calming her down...she never napped again.

Keep your eyes tuned to the International news tomorrow, because I'm going to give those sirens a reason to blare. I'm storming the tower and cutting the wires! Who's with me! Let\s do it! Yes!

But first it needs to stop snowing, and I have to try and get my baby to nap...

The End.


Tuesday, 5 February 2013

I'm Not The Only One, Right?

I'm not the only one who goes to the grocery store with a shopping list then walks out of there having forgotten to buy a dozen items on said list, right?