Flutter-by

Most of the time, Evelyn is a social butterfly.  In fact, unless you are our chiropractor*, it is highly likely that she will warm up to you within five or ten minutes and she will generally feel pretty comfortable exploring her surroundings and interacting with new people.  She needs to know that Mama is still there and she glances over her shoulder occasionally for some reassurance, or maybe to just smile as if to say "look Mama, there are other babies here!" or "wow, dirt!  I'm going to get it under my fingernails, OK?" but then she is off to explore again.  As a child, I was quite shy in new environments.  It took time for me to take inventory of the new space and the new people and I can vividly remember the knot in my stomach that formed as I entered a playmate's house for the first time or even as I headed off to the crowded school lunch room.  (I don't think I consumed more than a few bites of lunch during any of my elementary school years.)  

Partly because of my own experience as a slow-to-warm-up child, and drawing from a number of books I've read and little ones I've cared for over the years, I try to be attentive to E's sensory needs.  As much as I can, I prepare her for whatever we are about to encounter, whether it be new sounds or bright lights or a big crowd.  It can be easy, and even tempting when in a hurry, to forget that babies are people too and they're worthy of explanations and above all, respect.  

Nonetheless, E is not the slow-to-warm up girl that I was and so I seek out social opportunities that I know she will enjoy.  Today was our first Kindermusik "class."  I use the word class loosely here as the structure of the session was very baby-friendly and each of the eight babes seemed very comfortable and relaxed with the flow of events.  We used our sense of touch a lot as babies are tactile beings (well, many people are tactile learners straight through adulthood) and we sang and signed along with our actions.  The music is pretty diverse and upbeat and we loved our instructor.  E had a great time both with Mama and with the other mamas and babies.  I was hesitant to sign up for a "class" but E had a fantastic time and certainly did not seem to feel restrained in any way.

*Our chiropractor is great and he actually has five kids of his own, but E just does not want to crack a smile near him.  Maybe it is the white coat but I think it's the lack of "mom"-smell :).

Leaves of Grass

Pretty Glass Jars

I am so sick of plastic.  I have recently begun to try to purge my home of plastic.  This is actually really hard since almost everything has some kind of plastic packaging or plastic component.  I came across these pretty canning jars online:  http://www.organize.com/kitchen-canning-supplies.html.  I am a bit hesitant to purchase glass containers.  My main concern is my predisposition to dropping things on the kitchen floor and then spending the better part of an hour keeping E out of the danger zone whilst cleaning and avoiding the insertion of glass shards into my almost always bare feet.  Nevertheless, ziploc brand containers are really quite ugly and the lids have pretty sharp edges and they warp and become discolored after only a few weeks.  (Not to mention the fact that they take on the scent of whatever food item they contain. . . can anyone say spicy red curry?)  I think I'll go ahead and get rid of the last of the plastic in the kitchen and just say extra prayers that I don't break any glass, the jars look pretty sturdy!

Ode to a Mango

The sticky, smooth semi-sweetness of mangos has lured E away from her once all-encompassing love of avocados.  She still enjoys some other organic purees, probably six or eight ounces a day.  In terms of her diet, E's best source of nutrients and her go-to favorite is still Mama's milk but she is increasingly interested in solid foods as she is able to feed herself.  She's been able to use a spoon for a while but her ability to pick up kamut puffs or little pieces of a mushy food has launched a food revolution in our household.  Now, for instance, when she sees me eating a banana she cruises over and waits expectantly for a  little piece.  She looks like such a big girl, feeding herself fruit!  She is growing up.

"That" kid . . .

You know who I am talking about, that kid on the playground who always seems to have come by herself, that boy at the mall's play area who latches on to you and your child for dear life, the girl at the children's museum who insists on sitting next to your infant and attempting to play with her even though they are obviously a mismatched pair in every sense of the word.  The latch-on stranger child phenomenon has bothered me since I was a kid (and I did not want to share my little sister/ barbie/ soccer ball with some girl I hardly knew and who seemed to lack the common courtesy to ask before grabbing) but now that I am the mama, it bothers me a million times more.  

I should add a little disclaimer here; I actually feel sorry for these kids that their parents or grandparents or babysitters don't guide them a bit socially or at least help them engage in an activity or give them some attention.  Something!  It is not the fault of the seven-the-year old in question that she is completely bored and ignored.  BUT, as the parent of an infant (even if she looks like is 1 1/2 or 2 years old), I resent being deputized as playground magnet just because I am paying attention.  

Here is a recent example:  I took E to a coffee shop and then to a playground with a couple of other mamas and tots.  The playground was the place to be this afternoon because it was a gorgeous day, not a cloud in the sky and about 65 degrees (so, too chilly for the beach parks but still great for running around outside).  E is not quite walking yet so I spread out a blanket on the grass and she proceeded to crawl at least twenty feet away from said blanket immediately and so we explored the grass together ( I was always within two feet of her).  She adores putting random objects into her mouth so we played a rousing game of "Mama, just you try to stop me from eating this clump of grass/dandelion/piece of bark/stone/discarded popcorn kernel."  I won.  The next thing I know, there is a little girl coughing in E's face and holding onto her hand.  E, a very easy-going and social child who usually doesn't think twice about playing with other babies and even other grown-ups, looked distressed and really didn't like that she could not access her own hand.  I quickly removed the little girl's hand and smiled at her, hoping that she would return to the playground and rejoin her own mama/friend/etc.  No such luck, she followed us back to our blanket so that she could cough on E's little baby friend and then pull out a teething toy and ask if she could play with it.  Really?  Germs and grossness aside, what on earth would she even do with this object?  It was annoying.  She eventually got bored and left us alone and we wiped down the babies and made a mental note to run the teether through the dishwasher.  I know that it the scheme of things it's no big deal, but it was annoying.

The only thing I can really do is vow to supervise my own child when she is interacting with others (and make an interception if I notice that she is smothering someone less than half her age).  And I can vent.  Whew.

Every Morning is Christmas Morning

E is the very personification of "alive."  From the moment she wakes up, bright blue eyes twinkling, hair fuzzy and cheeks warm and pink from sleep, until the moment I nurse her back to sleep at night, she is learning, exploring, and moving.  I could never have imagined on all of those sleepless nights of pregnancy how adventurous and truly fun my daughter would be.  And now, at nine months old, she pops up next to me each morning.  She's eager and expectant, like a little meerkat ready to start the day because:  hooray!  It is a new day!  We get to play and explore and be together all day!  Again!  Can you believe it?  Her enthusiasm is so contagious it is next to impossible to wake up on the wrong side of the bed (also she takes up a good portion of the bed, so it is actually literally impossible to get to that wrong side).