Dog Drama

When we first brought Finnley home, Batman really didn't know what to think of her. He didn't know what a "her" even was. He certainly didn't know that Finnley was a person like his mommy and daddy. But, he was mindful of her. He was careful around her. He licked her face when we told him to give her "kisses", and then he got treats. All was well and fine and good.

And then Finnley got bigger. And then she began to move. And then she started to grab Batman's tail and his ears. She would pull on his fir to try to pull herself into a stand. She would touch his paws every chance she could get. She would stalk him and play in his bed. Batman started to realize that she WAS a person. And an annoying one at that. And, he didn't love her. Not at all. But, he did tolerate her.

And then Finnley started eating people food. Mushy, wet, slippery, flingy, wonderful people food. And, drops of this food would fall on the floor. And smears of it would be all over Finnley's hands and face. And bits of it would cling to the random parts of Finnley's high chair and tray. Batman found out that if he was patient, he could lick clean Finnley's hands and face. He could lick the high chair and clean up the messes on the floor. And, he was even more amazed when Finnley started eating Gerber puffs and yogurt melts...and she would hold her hand out for him to take them.

And she would smile.

And tolerance became less of a chore.

And Batman was in love. At least during mealtime, anyway!

Phillies Game

Finnley got to venture out to her second ever Phillies game this past week. She picked out (yes, she is that talented) her own outfit for the occasion, and got all gussied up. She loved all of the noises, sights, and smells...but it did get to be too much eventually. How can anyone take a nap at a ballpark with lots of blaring sounds surrounding them? Well, apparently we need to ask Peanut, because she knows the secret! A great day at the park, and so much fun for our little one!

Sequences - climbing adventure!

Sequences - crawling adventure!

In This Spot

I spent countless hours cradling you, rocking you, feeding you. During the mornings. During the afternoons. During the middles of the night. A newborn who needed so much.

I spent time reading to you. Board books. Classics. Anything we had in our reaches. You only wanted to eat the pretty pages or to tear them determinedly from their bindings.

I sat you up like a big girl and let you take in your room from a new perspective. You soaked it all in and propped yourself up so tall. Then you wanted to roll over and leap from the chair. Not big enough for that move yet.

I established a bedtime routine for a Peanut who really didn't need it. This time is for me, as you are one who doesn't have the need to cuddle in general. A time that allows for you to purposely get sleepy in my arms and actually be wholly content resting there as I give you your last bottle of the day.

I came to know you. To understand you a bit more. To cry from sleep deprivation. To bond with you. To stare at you with wonder and awe. To love you with every piece of my heart.

Right in this very spot.

The Best

One of the absolute best parts of my day is when Finnley wakes up in the morning. You have never seen a bigger smile than the one she flashes as soon as she realizes you have stepped into her room to get her. Ear to ear. Continuous pearly whites showing (well, what she has of them, anyway). Sweet beautiful smiling baby girl.

Thank you for such a great start to every day, Peanut!

Just Sayin'

It is Friday morning. And Friday mornings always remind me of what is soon to come in the realm of weekendy-sorts of stuff. Like dinner out. And actually seeing my husband. And time outside as a family. And playtime with the dog. And movies.

Movies. Wonderful wonderful beautiful movies.

Up until last Friday night, though, my lovely and I had not seen a movie OUT... at the theater.... since forever ago. Mostly because we have "heard" that other people frown upon those who do choose to bring babies to the show. (Imagine that! I cannot fathom as to why!) So, anyway, since we do have a baby and all, and we don't often have a baby sitter, we generally do NOT "do" movies.

But, last Friday night was a rarity of sorts, and our niece came out from Villanova to spend some time with her baby cousin. And that meant that my lovely and I could do ANYTHING we wanted for a few hours! Anything!!! However, since we really can do most things with Peanut, we chose to do something that we cannot do with her. Alas, a movie it was. Grennberg, to be more specific. Well, to be absolutely and totally specific, I guess.

Greenberg. Quirky. Off beat. A display of classically endearing neuroticism. Simple. Fun. So many good things wrapped up in a not-the-usual-sort-of-movie for Ben Stiller. We loved it.

What we didn't love, though, was the oddball narcissist a few seats up and over who felt it was his duty to commentate on the movie as it played out. Not just commentate to himself quietly. Not just commentate to his friend who was with him (well, probably because he was alone). But, to blather about loudly and boisterously enough for all of us in "his" surroundings to hear. Commentary such as "Shut up!" And some other ridiculousness that had the word "fuck" in it...but at this point I guess I have tuned it out enough in my memory as to not recall specifically. Because, even though in his narcissistic little bubble everything he had to say was important, I guess I didn't feel the same.

So, what I am trying to get across here is...I know it is not ok to take my baby to a movie, so I don't. Others should be so courteous and know that there exists additional movie-going etiquette that should be considered and followed. Such as: do NOT leave your cell phone on. Seriously! Is this one so hard to understand? (There is always someone. Always.) Do NOT sit directly next to strangers unless there are absolutely no other seats available in the theater. And I mean NO OTHER SEATS! (maybe this one is just my rule?) Do NOT sit directly in front of someone who is much shorter than you are. Really, you should know better!

And...keep your narrow-minded-idiotic-self-indulgent-ignorance spewing commentary to YOURSELF!

Just sayin'...

Mobility

Yep, mobility.

In the past few days, Finnley has perfected her variation on the Army crawl. It isn't a belly crawl. She actually has her full belly off of the floor. But, she still doesn't shimmy with one leg and one arm moving forward at a time. It is both arms. And both legs. In a full on pull. And? It works. Really well. Finnley can move herself all over the floor now. ALL. OVER.

And, with her newfound quicker mobility comes a bit of naughtiness. Ok, not really naughtiness, per se....but instead perfhaps a fully explorative baby that alone can yield all sorts of "trouble".

Today Finnley has followed the dog all over the lower level of the house. She will NOT leave him alone for anything. And when she finds him, she likes to crawl on him. And pull his fur. And grab his paws and legs. And Batman just sits there...waiting for me to tell him what a good boy he is and then for me to give him his due reward.


Finnley has also crawled into the kitchen. And gone under the counter. And played with the bar stool that is housed in that spot...you know...normally by itself.


And she has also crawled over to my book "bin" and removed a book. And after doing so she proceeded to pull her high chair tray down from that spot right on top of herself. But, she also managed to get her toys off of the tray, so she just laid there and played with them. With the tray on top of her still.

And? And?? And???? She can pull herself into a stand by holding onto something. Something like a stair. Or an object that isn't good for using to pull yourself up...such as a Fischer Price toy that has wheels...and can move. But, hey, whatever works. The important point being that she CAN PULL HERSELF INTO A STAND! Lord, help us!


In other milestones, Finnley likes to beg just like the dog. Well, mostly like the dog, but without the drool. She does like to find out what is in mommy's bowl, so today she tried blue cheese and (for the second time) ate diced ham. She liked them both. At least she liked them both well enough to not spit them out. And, in the world of actual Finnley food...she tried Gerber Yogurt Melts. And she ate them. Whole pieces of them!

What a big girl. What an inquisitive little mobile stinker of a big girl. No longer can she be left alone to her own devices...because she now has LOTS of devices.

And, I can't help but love her all the more for all of it.

Easter

Beautiful day. Perfect Weather. Finnley blowing raspberries during church. Brunch. Heart-attack-worthy brunch. More perfect weather. A family walk. Lovely.

Enough moments of perfection...

...to be a nearly perfect day.


Seeing life through a new set of tiny eyes. Straining to turn the neck and head to take in the still naked trees as we pass them on our first ever hayride. Sitting and exploring a dried up leaf and stem and the freshly darkening blades of grass as the older kids hunt for Easter eggs hidden by Peter Rabbit. Investigating the strange and fascinating "fur" on the Easter bunny's arm and hand as we sit for a picture.

Lunch out. New foods. New textures. New tastes. New enjoyment of the world around us.

A napping baby. Mommy getting "me time" out on the patio. Reading a book, a stolen and rare pleasure. Drinking in each and every page, slowly sipping each luscious word as I might an aired out glass of my favorite red wine. Letting the sun hit me and not having to be responsible for anything but the present time.

Tennis ball. Squishy, wet, foamy, disgustingly wonderful tennis ball. Throwing it for my other baby. My first baby. Watching his joy. Watching him enjoy just being noticed and loved. Seeing the pleasure he draws from soaking in the sunshine after a long winter and a bout of cloudy and cool rainy days.

A sleep-freshened baby on a blanket in the yard. Sun hat on. Surrounded by toys, the dog, and her mommy. Loving more time in her environment and her ever-growing world.

A glass of red wine. A content mommy. A bottle. A happy scooting baby. Dinner. A sleepy dog. Smells of neighbors grilling wafting in the air and through our windows.

Spring.

Longer days.

Sunshine.

Indeed...enough moments of perfection to be a nearly perfect day...I can't ask for much more than that.

Urban Ballerina

because...


mommy and daddy told me I can be anything I want to be!

Just Sayin'

Kleenex boxes (or boxes of tissues...but we all know that branding has worked well for Kleenex) are conspirators. Nasty little between-themseves-talkers and conspirators. I swear it to be true. And, exactly how do I know this?

In our house, when a box of Kleenex empties, it might take a few days before a new one appears. I don't know why. That is just how it works. I think because I always remember the necessary task while looking at the empty box, but as soon as I walk away....all bets are off. When at least two boxes have become empty, it really is a kick in the pants to replace the cavernous ones. Doing without one box is fine. But two? Forgeddaboudit.

So, today I replaced two empty Kleenex boxes. I walked the stairway of drudgery ALL THE WAY to the basement to get the much-anticipated replacements. I threw away the old no-longer-doing-their-job boxes. I put the new ones within their fancy and absolutely unnecessary covers. Ahhh....all done.

But wait just a second, the Kleenex boxes plan conspiracies, remember? They know precisely when you have gotten your house in order and are feeling good about yourself. They know that the other boxes are full to the brim and are waiting to be used after you worked so hard for days to complete that very task that allowed you to be at this point of delirium. And, because of that...when you go to that "other" box of Kleenex in the house and pull out a tissue...it just happens to be the last fucking one. (you can almost hear the giggles coming from the other tissue boxes in the house) And every time for the next two days that your nose is running and dripping from freshly born Spring allergies, you go to that empty box and you anticipatingly reach…and you realize yet again that there are no tissues.

And you know what that means? It means that you once again have to remember to replace yet another box...when you thought that you were all done with that sort of thing just that very morning. And, this happens EVERY SINGLE TIME you think you are all done with that sort of thing. Jerks.

I actually think that all paper products work together to do us in. The Kleenex. The napkins. The paper towels. The toilet paper. Oh yeah...they all know the game. They are all in on it. And, seriously…They. ARE. Ridiculous!

So, Kleenex conspiracy? Yep, you got that right.

Just sayin'....

I Wanna Rock!

Because that is just how I roll!!!

Just Sayin'

Nobody loves doing laundry. Well, no one that I know, anyway. And, if you do by any chance know of someone who loves to do laundry, you should probably slap that delusional person...back into reality...you know...where everyone else hates the blasted chore.

As much as I do hate the laborious task, I do not at all mind the first two loads. Those first two lovely and friendly and delicious loads. There is something wonderful about feeling like you are doing something without really doing much of anything at all. You can say, "hey...I have accomplished so much today...the second load of laundry is already in the washer". See...doesn't that sound pretty good? Go ahead, pat yourself on the back for a job well done.

But, we (we being all the people who actually do the laundry) know the (not so) secret fact that those first two loads of laundry practically do themselves. Because at that point, there is no folding involved. There is no matching. There is no turning things right side in. It is just simply putting a load in the wash. Then transferring that load to the dryer. Then simply putting a new load in the wash. What bliss!

Ahh...if all laundry could be done without the stupid folding and the other nasty minutiae of laundry-hell...well, then life would be pretty ok. Pretty ok, indeed.

You know. Just a little laundry speak for the day. And, you know...just sayin'.

The Future

In the not so ridiculously distant future, I am sure Finnley will thank me (read: hate me) for this. For now, though, I will be sure to enjoy this tidbit immensely!

Just Sayin'

Once upon a time in a land far far away (Cleveland) we had a neighbor who absolutely LOVED and ADORED dogs. He and his wife had unfortunately established over time, though, that she was allergic to them. In a bad way allergic. A very bad way. So, it just wasn't possible for them to own or have dogs in their home. To help close up that ungodly doggy-sized hole in his heart, our neighbor used to come into our yard and play with Batman. A lot. Sometimes you would even find them laying in the grass together, and our neighbor would be smelling Batman's paws.

Ummmmmm?????

Apparently (he claimed, anyway) there is nothing better than the smell of grassy and sweet puppy paws. Well, alrighty then!

So, just sayin'.....

The Joys. The Little Things.

Start with one silly baby. Put her on the floor. Add a roll of paper towels. And, what do you get???

See for yourself!





And, once again...why do I spend money on toys? Really? It is usually the simplest things that seem to create the greatest joys. Nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all.

First...

...taste of spring


...time truly IN the yard



...experience with the tactile sensation of grass



...real reason to wear a sunhat

Getting Older

Both my dear sweet lovely and I have birthdays within four days of one another. Now, we do love ourselves a birthday around here. Always have. What is there not to like about cake and presents, afterall? But, after having a baby...personally, my birthday just doesn't seem like such a big deal anymore. It hasn't felt at all like a birthday. Not leading up to it, and not now that it is here.

What in the hell happened? Am I all of a sudden more mature? Um...nopers. That is pretty much a guarantee (see picture above). So, what is it then?

I simply think that Finnley is now the focus. It is HER birthdays that will bring the most pleasure, excitement, and joy to our lives. Instead of looking forward to my own "special day", I will look forward to her first birthday in August and then all of the hundreds of others to follow from there. I want the parties, the cakes, the presents, the clowns, the hullabaloo, the selfish "all about ME, ME, ME, and if it isn't, I might hurt someone" sorts of days...all for her. Ok, maybe not the clowns. They really are kind of creepy. Ok, not kind of creepy....but SERIOUSLY creepy.

I guess all of this just makes me a mommy. A real adult, of sorts. As I said before, not necessarily more mature...but a real adult mommy lady person nonetheless.

But, just for old time's sake...HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME! boo-yah!!!