Four Month Update

Dear Lana,

We are having some fun now! That’s a song from Little Shop of Horrors and a fitting description of your fourth month. Your love of music continues to grow, so I had the good sense to TiVo the aforementioned musical and play it over and over for you this month. It was a favorite of mine as a kid, and you seem to really enjoy it, too. It’s got a lot of fun, catchy music, not to mention domestic abuse, masochism, murder, those girls from Martin in kicky little costumes, and a blood-sucking plant. Something for everyone!

The other soundtrack to our lives this month is your rapidly expanding repertoire of noises. You’ve introduced us to a new sound each week this month – from a crackling noise that can be best described as cell phone static to a sustained string of oohs, ahhs, and oops. Your father coaxed the first authentic giggle from you while kissing your belly, and it was without a doubt the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard. It was also a nice contrast to the screeching noise you make more and more frequently now – a sound that I fully expect to draw a herd of amorous felines to your nursery window.

Another major development this month is your increasing hand dexterity. At the beginning of the month, you used your hands to examine the details of your wardrobe. You would flip up the bib you were wearing and stare closely at the pattern, becoming hopelessly cross eyed in the process. You also began grabbing the clothing I selected for you each morning and stuffing it into your mouth. It’s actually an interesting approach to dressing, and one that I have decided to give a shot. I’m still in my pajamas as I write this because I haven’t found an outfit that tastes quite right.

You’ve moved from clothing to toys and teethers over the past couple weeks, and you’ll lie on the floor and play contentedly for long stretches of time. Rico often sits at the edge of your blanket with a toy of his own, obviously coveting your collection of bright and squeaky toys but showing tremendous restraint. Yesterday you reached out and touched him for the first time, and the look of shock on his face told me that your relationship is not quite ready for physical contact. It looked like the end of an awkward date I had in high school – one where the guy designated me his soul mate because we both folded our fries before dipping them in ketchup. Hopefully Rico will be kinder than I was and give you another chance, and you will not start to drive back and forth past his house in your souped-up Camaro.

Thanks for a fun month, Lana Kat. I look forward to many more.

Love,
Mom

(Photos in this post are courtesy of Sabrina, a good friend and awesome photographer.)

Baby's First Christmas

Lana learned how to grasp and reach for toys just in time for Christmas. She wasn’t quite old enough to get excited about the holiday, though. I’m sure next year will be a different story, but she’ll be hard pressed to top the time I jumped on the bed on Christmas Eve yelling, “SANTA IS COMING!” until I threw up. Man, was Christmas 2004 fun.

Lana did, however, enjoy the lights, the decorations, and the general merriment of the holiday season. She also had an impressive haul of presents for someone who can’t even open the packages by herself. Even though the Fisher Price Learning Puppy I gave her randomly calls out “I love you” and “You’re fun!” in a desperate bid for attention, Lana’s favorite toys so far are a Hungry Pelican from my cousin and a Clutch Cube from my parents. We haven’t broken out the Hop ‘N Pop from John’s parents yet, but I imagine there will be some serious hopping and popping starting in about a month.

The presents made the holiday fun, but spending time with Lana and our families made baby’s first Christmas truly great. I look forward to experiencing Christmas again through the eyes of a child, and maybe even encountering a little holiday-induced vomit.

I Lied to Santa

After feeding Lana one morning last week, she burst into conversation and hasn’t quieted down since. She now engages the television, her toys, the crib mobile, and her family in deep and meaningful discussions that escalate in volume as she struggles to make her point. She will occasionally pause to study me in mid-conversation, and the look on her face says, “Damn, woman. I just told you to ooop, ahhh, guuhhh, RAHHH! Why are you still just sitting there?”

She also spent the past week studying the faces of those around her, and bursting into tears if those faces didn’t belong to a select few that she’s grown comfortable with. I actually found myself advising visitors to treat her like a wild animal and avoid making eye contact, for the safety of us all.

That brings me to Santa. Considering that the smiling faces of friends and family sent her into a fit all week, I had very low expectations for a photo with a big, bearded stranger. I warned Santa and his elves when we arrived that we would have about 10 seconds after dropping Lana in his lap before she would recognize the severity of the situation and earn herself a spot on the naughty list. Instead, I watched with total amazement as she sat calmly on Santa’s lap while his silly, silly elves attempted to cajole her into looking at the camera. She was completely relaxed, and I am still amazed that she could pull one over on Santa at such an early age.

A Doozie of a Twosie

Yes, I am writing about my baby’s poop again. It turns out that pooping is something newborns do best, and Lana does it with particular flair. She prefers not to poop while wearing her diaper, which means she is smart and sanitary enough to choose not to stew in her own excrement. This preference does, however, create a logistical problem for a baby that wears a diaper almost every minute of the day.

To get around this, Lana has settled into a complex and amazingly consistent pooping routine. She begins with a small decoy poop that is just stinky enough to get our attention and compel us to take her to the changing table. Once the diaper is off, the real action begins. I will show some restraint and not provide too many details about the pooping that happens when the diaper comes off, but it is distressing enough that I must hold Lana’s hand so she can make it through it. My reassurances make her feel better, though, and she shows her appreciation by treating me to one last chaser poop.

While dealing with this daily poop extravaganza, I often recall a parenting magazine article with tips for raising baby on a budget. One mom recommended cutting baby wipes in half to save money. I can only imagine how horrified this thrifty woman would be if she saw me using six to eight wipes to clean up one round of pooping. I too am a fan of saving money, but I view an extra $50 a year to keep baby poop off my hands as money well spent.