Chloë slept eleven hours straight last night.
That is all.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
Behindhand
Chloë's taken to reaching behind her head while we nurse. This has the effect of making her look like she's lounging on a beach somewhere, sunning with her hands behind her head, especially when she's got her upper leg all curled around me. (Nursing is so much nicer than it used to be.) I don't know why she does it--if it's because she feels my hand there, or has realized she has a back of her head (previously it was her ears; I worried she might have an ear infection when she started tugging them and sticking her finger sin them, but several people assured me that if she had an ear infection there would be much more screaming), or just wants to say, "Hey--I want to hold your finger."
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Travel baby
Chloë took her first long car trip today--we went to see some friends in Akron, two and a half hours away. She did okay. She played and watched the world go by for about forty-five minutes, then started to fuss, then fell asleep holding Eric's hand. She was great at Courtney and Ryan's. At first, their son appeared to be intimidated by her (witness: crying when put on the floor with her), but by the end of the visit was pulling off his shirt and drinking his juice in front of her on purpose to impress her. Or at least that was our guess.
On the way home she slept again, for a good two hours. Normally her naps are around forty-five minutes, so this was impressive. Despite that, she got to sleep with a minimum of fuss. I love our sleep schedule. I live in dread of the day it changes. Well, unless it changes so that she sleeps until my alarm goes off.
On the way home she slept again, for a good two hours. Normally her naps are around forty-five minutes, so this was impressive. Despite that, she got to sleep with a minimum of fuss. I love our sleep schedule. I live in dread of the day it changes. Well, unless it changes so that she sleeps until my alarm goes off.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Growing so big
Chloë weighed 19 lb, 2 oz. at her checkup Friday. This is 95th percentile. She was also 26 inches. This is 50th percentile. "Is this a problem?" I asked the pediatrician.
"Not really," she said. "Once she starts crawling, it'll all even out."
It's a bit surprising that she hasn't rolled from back to front, and that she doesn't laugh much, but otherwise she's doing well. They gave her four shots (three six-months shots plus flu) and pronounced her fit to go on living. (Chloë wasn't too sure about this in the first couple of minutes after her shots. She recovered surprisingly quickly, though, and smiled at the nurse before she left the room.) Since the appointment was at two and it was only three when we got out, and I had left work with a huge to-do list, I took her to work with me.
"Does she sleep well for you?" was the number-one question, which kind of surprised me. But then I went to a Tupperware party recently and two of the women there had had children who didn't sleep through the night until they were two and three years old. These children are still alive, which also kind of surprised me.
"She looks exactly like you!" one of my coworkers exclaimed, then went on to gush about how cute she was, which made me feel good (since everyone likes to hear they're cute). Chloë was her usual smiley self. "Is she always this happy/well-behaved?" was the number-two question, which also made me feel good. I gave her the tour, taking her to see all the people I'd promised to show the baby one day and a few others besides. We ran into my boss on the other side of the building, where I was obviously doing no work, but I think he understood. He's got a daughter of his own. Anyway, after that we went back to my desk and I did a few things (though I couldn't go into the lab with Chloë because no one can go in without a lab coat, and I didn't think I'd be able to find one small enough) until she started to get bored, and then we headed home.
Today we left her at the grandmothers' for a few hours while we went shopping. For a new carseat for her, among other things. Her current one is good up to 22 lb., which means we've got until maybe the end of April at the absolute latest, but we had a good coupon and some money in the budget, so we got a nice convertible one good up to 65 lb. today. Theoretically two would be ideal, so we wouldn't have to transfer it between cars at daycare, but we're not sure the convenience is worth the extra money. At any rate, unless we opt for the convenience we shouldn't have to buy another for quite a while.
"Not really," she said. "Once she starts crawling, it'll all even out."
It's a bit surprising that she hasn't rolled from back to front, and that she doesn't laugh much, but otherwise she's doing well. They gave her four shots (three six-months shots plus flu) and pronounced her fit to go on living. (Chloë wasn't too sure about this in the first couple of minutes after her shots. She recovered surprisingly quickly, though, and smiled at the nurse before she left the room.) Since the appointment was at two and it was only three when we got out, and I had left work with a huge to-do list, I took her to work with me.
"Does she sleep well for you?" was the number-one question, which kind of surprised me. But then I went to a Tupperware party recently and two of the women there had had children who didn't sleep through the night until they were two and three years old. These children are still alive, which also kind of surprised me.
"She looks exactly like you!" one of my coworkers exclaimed, then went on to gush about how cute she was, which made me feel good (since everyone likes to hear they're cute). Chloë was her usual smiley self. "Is she always this happy/well-behaved?" was the number-two question, which also made me feel good. I gave her the tour, taking her to see all the people I'd promised to show the baby one day and a few others besides. We ran into my boss on the other side of the building, where I was obviously doing no work, but I think he understood. He's got a daughter of his own. Anyway, after that we went back to my desk and I did a few things (though I couldn't go into the lab with Chloë because no one can go in without a lab coat, and I didn't think I'd be able to find one small enough) until she started to get bored, and then we headed home.
Today we left her at the grandmothers' for a few hours while we went shopping. For a new carseat for her, among other things. Her current one is good up to 22 lb., which means we've got until maybe the end of April at the absolute latest, but we had a good coupon and some money in the budget, so we got a nice convertible one good up to 65 lb. today. Theoretically two would be ideal, so we wouldn't have to transfer it between cars at daycare, but we're not sure the convenience is worth the extra money. At any rate, unless we opt for the convenience we shouldn't have to buy another for quite a while.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Status report: Month 6
Chloë turned six months old this Saturday at Confusion, a science fiction convention in Michigan. She loved the convention--there was neat new scenery! And things to look at! And people to smile at! And kids to dance for her! And minions to acquire! Really--we handed out "Chloe's Minion" badge ribbons.
(Note: my camera decided to be funny and force me to format my memory card, deleting the weeks of pictures I had stored on it. I’m still bitter about this. It's good that it happened over the holidays when everyone else was taking pictures, but I had some I really loved on there. The pictures you see are from our new camcorder, which is good for movies but not so good for stills. But it's better than nothing, grumble grumble.)
Chloë at six months is worlds away from the tiny baby she was when she was born. She's not so tiny, for one thing. Her six-month checkup is Friday but we're figuring she's somewhere between eighteen and twenty pounds. She's perilously close to outgrowing her carseat; we're going to have to go shopping for a new one very soon. She has chubby arms and legs, and feet stuffed to capacity, and thigh rolls, and neck rolls, and cheek pads. This isn't new, but it may soon be gone; she moves a lot more now, kicking and grabbing and sitting and occasionally rolling and doing her level best to figure out how to crawl. She hasn't done it yet, but she's getting close. She pushes herself up on her arms, then sort of heaves back onto her knees, then flops down, then gets her knees under her, but she hasn't figured out how to do it all at once.
She loves to sit unsupported and play with whatever's in front of her, and she loves to stand up. We play the sit/stand game now: I tell her "Give me your hands," then take her hands. (Eventually she'll give them to me of her own accord. Someday.) I say, "Sit," and pull her into a sitting position. I say, "Stand," and she bounces to her feet; I say, "Sit," and relax my grip to let her sit down again, and we repeat. She loves to be jumped, and to fly in the air, and to roll off my stomach onto the bed, and to have her belly kissed and tickled. She still isn't doing a full-fledged laugh, but she giggles, hesitantly, as if she's still learning how to do it, which I suppose she is.
We've slowly added more foods to her diet. She tried peas and hates them, tried meats and was ambivalent about them. The current list: rice, oats, sweet potatoes, carrots, corn, green beans, peas, apples, bananas, cherries, peaches, pears, turkey, and beef. We bought some wheat cereal but will wait to offer it until we talk to the doctor about exactly how this transition to solids is supposed to work. That and blueberries, pineapple, potatoes, squash, barley, and maybe rye are next on our list. Also juice and sippy cups.
Her hair is medium brown with golden glints now, subtly different from the dark brown she was born with. Her mohawk remains; her birth hair has been slowly falling out as the new stuff grows in, so she has fine stubble on the sides of her head, but the mohawk is still original. My little cassowary. I'll miss it when it's gone.
She sleeps from nine until four or five now, and goes to bed very easily (except for a few nights there). She does not, however, go down for naps unless she's absolutely exhausted. She'll sleep in the car sometimes, or occasionally in her swing (which she's also outgrowing), but put her down and she screams and screams until we pick her up again. She's definitely a people person.
Sometimes she's very talkative, and we're hearing consonants now--"da" and "gah" and, recently, "umwa." We think it's the sound we make when we kiss her. She talks herself to sleep, and sometimes during the day she'll babble, adding the occasional raspberry. Sometimes she just smiles and drools. At Confusion she and I were in the hotel room for half an hour or so, waiting for Eric, and we just hung out: she clutching a toy, me reading a book, the both of us lying on the bed and smiling at each other. I loved it. I love six months.
(Note: my camera decided to be funny and force me to format my memory card, deleting the weeks of pictures I had stored on it. I’m still bitter about this. It's good that it happened over the holidays when everyone else was taking pictures, but I had some I really loved on there. The pictures you see are from our new camcorder, which is good for movies but not so good for stills. But it's better than nothing, grumble grumble.)
Chloë at six months is worlds away from the tiny baby she was when she was born. She's not so tiny, for one thing. Her six-month checkup is Friday but we're figuring she's somewhere between eighteen and twenty pounds. She's perilously close to outgrowing her carseat; we're going to have to go shopping for a new one very soon. She has chubby arms and legs, and feet stuffed to capacity, and thigh rolls, and neck rolls, and cheek pads. This isn't new, but it may soon be gone; she moves a lot more now, kicking and grabbing and sitting and occasionally rolling and doing her level best to figure out how to crawl. She hasn't done it yet, but she's getting close. She pushes herself up on her arms, then sort of heaves back onto her knees, then flops down, then gets her knees under her, but she hasn't figured out how to do it all at once.
She loves to sit unsupported and play with whatever's in front of her, and she loves to stand up. We play the sit/stand game now: I tell her "Give me your hands," then take her hands. (Eventually she'll give them to me of her own accord. Someday.) I say, "Sit," and pull her into a sitting position. I say, "Stand," and she bounces to her feet; I say, "Sit," and relax my grip to let her sit down again, and we repeat. She loves to be jumped, and to fly in the air, and to roll off my stomach onto the bed, and to have her belly kissed and tickled. She still isn't doing a full-fledged laugh, but she giggles, hesitantly, as if she's still learning how to do it, which I suppose she is.
We've slowly added more foods to her diet. She tried peas and hates them, tried meats and was ambivalent about them. The current list: rice, oats, sweet potatoes, carrots, corn, green beans, peas, apples, bananas, cherries, peaches, pears, turkey, and beef. We bought some wheat cereal but will wait to offer it until we talk to the doctor about exactly how this transition to solids is supposed to work. That and blueberries, pineapple, potatoes, squash, barley, and maybe rye are next on our list. Also juice and sippy cups.
Her hair is medium brown with golden glints now, subtly different from the dark brown she was born with. Her mohawk remains; her birth hair has been slowly falling out as the new stuff grows in, so she has fine stubble on the sides of her head, but the mohawk is still original. My little cassowary. I'll miss it when it's gone.
She sleeps from nine until four or five now, and goes to bed very easily (except for a few nights there). She does not, however, go down for naps unless she's absolutely exhausted. She'll sleep in the car sometimes, or occasionally in her swing (which she's also outgrowing), but put her down and she screams and screams until we pick her up again. She's definitely a people person.
Sometimes she's very talkative, and we're hearing consonants now--"da" and "gah" and, recently, "umwa." We think it's the sound we make when we kiss her. She talks herself to sleep, and sometimes during the day she'll babble, adding the occasional raspberry. Sometimes she just smiles and drools. At Confusion she and I were in the hotel room for half an hour or so, waiting for Eric, and we just hung out: she clutching a toy, me reading a book, the both of us lying on the bed and smiling at each other. I loved it. I love six months.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Good help is so hard to find
Chloë has a pretty steady bedtime routine now: an ounce or two of solids, a bath if she's getting one, then nursing, pajamas, and bed. We turn on her "Sleep Sheep" and give her her stuffed puppy, and she lies in the crib singing to herself until she falls asleep. We had some struggles getting her to this point, but it's been pretty comfortable for the past couple of weeks.
Until two nights ago, when we put her down and she screamed and screamed. "Let's wait a few minutes," Eric said after it had gone on a few minutes and she hadn't wound down. Then, not long after, "No, this sounds like something's wrong." So we went in and picked her up and checked her and the crib. Nothing seemed to be wrong. So we held her until she was calm and put her back down, and after a few more whimpers she settled down to sleep. (And slept until 6:30. I was so happy.)
Last night when I came home from work, she was in her exersaucer. I crouched down to say hello, and she grinned and bounced. "I'm going to go put my coat away, and then I'll be right back," I told her, and started up the staircase.
She roared her displeasure, which hasn't happened before, and didn't stop until I came back down and picked her up. "I told you I would be right back," I said, but she was unamused. At bedtime there was much screaming again. I went in and checked on her, and held her until she was quiet, and when I put her back down she started screaming again. She cried herself to sleep about ten minutes later. I'm wondering if Miss Overlord is discovering separation anxiety. It's a little early, but perhaps she doesn't realize that Eric and I are eminently replaceable; she has plenty of minions she could promote to trusted lieutenant if necessary. Maybe she just doesn't want to go to the trouble of conducting the interviews.
Until two nights ago, when we put her down and she screamed and screamed. "Let's wait a few minutes," Eric said after it had gone on a few minutes and she hadn't wound down. Then, not long after, "No, this sounds like something's wrong." So we went in and picked her up and checked her and the crib. Nothing seemed to be wrong. So we held her until she was calm and put her back down, and after a few more whimpers she settled down to sleep. (And slept until 6:30. I was so happy.)
Last night when I came home from work, she was in her exersaucer. I crouched down to say hello, and she grinned and bounced. "I'm going to go put my coat away, and then I'll be right back," I told her, and started up the staircase.
She roared her displeasure, which hasn't happened before, and didn't stop until I came back down and picked her up. "I told you I would be right back," I said, but she was unamused. At bedtime there was much screaming again. I went in and checked on her, and held her until she was quiet, and when I put her back down she started screaming again. She cried herself to sleep about ten minutes later. I'm wondering if Miss Overlord is discovering separation anxiety. It's a little early, but perhaps she doesn't realize that Eric and I are eminently replaceable; she has plenty of minions she could promote to trusted lieutenant if necessary. Maybe she just doesn't want to go to the trouble of conducting the interviews.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Meat and greet
Last night Chloë had her first taste of turkey. "What does she think?" I called from the kitchen.
"I don't know," Eric said. "I don't think she knows either." I came into the dining room. Chloë had a peculiar look on her face. "It's not the outright rejection that the green beans got, but she's not eager for it either."
He spooned a little more into her mouth. She rolled it around, looking dubious. "It's even more ambivalent than her reaction to the beef," he said. He stopped spooning, and she darted her head forward, grabbing his wrist; but when he offered more turkey she screwed up her face in perplexity.
I got a whiff of the turkey and muttered, "Cat food," to Eric, and he muttered back, "Stop it." But Chloë seemed to share my opinion: she likes the act of eating, but she didn't like having the turkey actually in her mouth. She didn't reject it, but she didn’t seem to know what to make of it. I've been a vegetarian so long that in some ways I don't really think of meat as food anymore. Maybe since she didn't get any in utero, she wasn't prepared to accept it as food either and was wondering why we were offering her this weird non-food item at mealtime.
Or maybe she just needs to get used to it. I ate plenty of green beans while pregnant and she downright hates those.
"I don't know," Eric said. "I don't think she knows either." I came into the dining room. Chloë had a peculiar look on her face. "It's not the outright rejection that the green beans got, but she's not eager for it either."
He spooned a little more into her mouth. She rolled it around, looking dubious. "It's even more ambivalent than her reaction to the beef," he said. He stopped spooning, and she darted her head forward, grabbing his wrist; but when he offered more turkey she screwed up her face in perplexity.
I got a whiff of the turkey and muttered, "Cat food," to Eric, and he muttered back, "Stop it." But Chloë seemed to share my opinion: she likes the act of eating, but she didn't like having the turkey actually in her mouth. She didn't reject it, but she didn’t seem to know what to make of it. I've been a vegetarian so long that in some ways I don't really think of meat as food anymore. Maybe since she didn't get any in utero, she wasn't prepared to accept it as food either and was wondering why we were offering her this weird non-food item at mealtime.
Or maybe she just needs to get used to it. I ate plenty of green beans while pregnant and she downright hates those.
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