New Photos

Man at the Bar

The hydraulic motor on my breast pump makes a noise that sounds just like "Man at the bar, man at the bar, man at the bar..."

Movin' On Up

We moved Nora into her own room this week. I've been putting this off for awhile, because I loved having her bassinet right next to the bed. I had even grown fond of the fug created by Rich, two dogs, Nora and myself sleeping and snoring and dreaming in one little space together. If we could all have slept curled up in a puppy pile in the corner, I'd probably have been even happier.

However, she's gotten so big that her arms would fly out and hit the sides of her bassinet and wake her up. The bassinet (mine from long ago) is made out of some sort of plywood with stapled seams at each end; in the morning, Nora's head would be crammed up against that scratchy plywood seam and she'd be clawing at the sides of the bassinet like a little Tasmanian devil in a wooden crate. (It sounds worse than it was.)

Since I had the day off Monday, I decided to try putting her in her crib Sunday night in case there was trouble. I lay my yoga mat and an old comforter on the floor of her room and bedded down to keep her company while I waited for the wailing to start.

Nora slept through the night without a peep, swaddled up in that big crib like a pebble on a dinner plate. I lay on the floor spooning with the dog and feeling sorry for myself. No more gazing over at her in her bassinet next to my bed as I fall asleep; no more reaching over to feel her grasp one of my fingers first thing in the morning; no more grinning at each other as we first open our eyes in the morning. My daughter has taken her first of many steps toward independence (unless you count being born as the first one). At any rate, there's no going back to the bassinet, and I'm a little sad that her newborn phase is officially over.

This motherhood thing is turning me into a sentimental cream puff.

Roll Over, Babe-thoven

Yet another milestone: Nora can roll from her belly onto her back! She did it once before, several weeks ago (when I had my back turned, of course), but she did it again yesterday while I was watching. I called downstairs for Rich to run upstairs and see, and he responded with, "Oh yeah, she's been doing that all day." Hmm. Ok. I wonder what else she can do that I don't know about. Does she pop-lock, too?

Update, February 20: I still have only seen Nora roll over a couple of times, so I think this may have been a fluke. I'll let y'all know when she gets serious about rolling over.

Cheeky Monkey

Come on. I mean, really, come on! Has there ever been a cuter baby? We need a wide angle lens just to get those cheeks in the shot.

Nora is really talkative these days. She's very expressive, sometimes knitting her brows and looking right into my eyes in order to make a point. It's mostly just vowel sounds, but she'll throw "a-ging-ging-ging" in there every now and then, along with quite a few Hebraic-sounding "ch" sounds.

She also started reaching for objects this week, grabbing them and trying to shove them into her mouth. She hasn't figured out how to get her own fists out of her way, though, so I imagine she thinks everything from stuffed animals to the remote control taste like hand. She seems to be a lefty, which worries me a bit; scissors will never fit her hand properly. But I guess she can still lead some semblance of a normal life, right?

The other wonderful milestone we've reached is the establishment of bedtime. Nora starts to nod off around 7:30; by 8 pm she's out cold, and she's been sleeping-- knock on wood-- for 10 hours straight. It's glorious to have a couple of hours all to myself at the end of the day, even if it consists mostly of doing dishes and laundry and checking Facebook.