The little epicure

I've done this parenting thing before, right? Because for the past month I've been growing more and more frustrated over the Pooter's eating habits. Because for several months, she was a greedy gobbler, nursing every 4 hours and eating 3 meals a day, at least a jar of baby food at a time. Then, suddenly, she wanted nothing to do with food. Then, she learned to shake her head no. No! It's too soon for defiance. But, except for the nursing and an occasional spoonful, whe wouldn't eat. I blamed the teething. Then she got shots. Then she got a cold. Then she was teething again. Finally, we ran out of excuses. She'd just shake her head "no" and I'd have to try and sneak food in. Then 2 things happened.

First, I sat her in her chair and, to keep her occupied, I gave her a couple of mini wheats. Just to play with, because she really hasn't been into the whole "put things in the mouth" routine. At all. Even my mother commented on it. Give her Cheerios and she just plays with them and sticks them in her diaper. Anyway. I turn away for a sec and when I turn back, she's eaten half a mini wheat. So a light bulb goes off. I start serving her stuff on stuff, like hummous on toast or baby food spread on a cracker. That sort of thing. I find out she likes to eat off of something, but she's still slow on the bringing things to her mouth. Then, whenever I try to get a spoon to her mouth, she grabs the spoon, so I start giving her a spoon to keep her busy while I shovel in with my spoon. This works for a bit. Finally, duh, I give her the spoon with the food and she puts the food in her own mouth. Follow me here. She completely bypassed bringing food to her mouth by hand and went right to using a spoon. I thought it was a fluke, but Gar gave her the spoon at the next meal and let her dip into the bowl and she did it like 4 times in a row.

The other thing she bypassed was the so-called "stage 2" baby foods. She likes the fruits and veggies. But the spaghetti and cheese or garden veg dinner, no way. The other night we were eating in the living room and G puts down his bowl of penne with homemade vodka sauce and Poot scoots right over and puts her whole face in the bowl and comes with vodka sauce all over her face. So, basically, forget the baby food spaghetti, she wants penne with vodka sauce(settle down, the vodka boils off).

So now I've just been feeding her mostly what I eat with a little baby food thrown in. Likes: blueberry apricots smoothies, hummous, baba ghanoush and kiwis. Dislikes: tomatos.

Enough blather. Let's see some baby pictures.

A Poot by any other name

People have been known to ask us, "So what do you call her?" And by that, I think they mean, "Salome is such a weird and exotic name, you don't actually say it out loud, do you?" Well yes, we do. But in the spirit of our family to develop new and strange nicknames, Salome as evolved(or devolved) into some other things that we do call her from time to time. Like, take the cat for instance(take my cat, please!). Her name is Legolas. Yes, like the elf. And if you're keeping track, the other cats' names are Feanor, Gingersnap and Fig Newton. So Mr. Dungeons & Dorks named his cats after Tolkien characters and I named mine after cookies. So what. What did you name your cat? Snookums!? I thought so.

Anyhoo, Salome has turned into Sally, then Sal, then Salad-by her 3 year old cousin. When she's nakie and scooting around on the floor all pink and wriggly she's Salamander. Sometimes Salami(salomi-I don't know, the lunch meat, you know what I mean), which is a name I don't like and the biggest reason I didn't want to name her Salome, because I know how kids at school can be and she'll hate me because I named her after a sandwich meat. Then there's Sally Moo, Sally Mae and Salo Mia, Salo Mia, Salo Mia let me go(magnifico-o-o-o). Don't even get me started with Pooter. That became Poot, Pootie, and Pootie Pootwell(a la the Ya-Ya Sisterhood). That (de)evolved into Moot, sometimes Moot Moot and then I make a little noise like Sweet Pea except instead of "Jeep, Jeep" I go "Moot, Moot" and that became Boot and then Bootie, cause she has a cute, little one and sometimes if we're feeling a little funky it's "Bootylicious" and we shake our heinies and have a good time.

There, aren't you sorry you asked.

Fawgeddaboud it

You Are 94% New Jersey!

Wow, you're totally Jersey. There's no doubt about it. Congratulations, and always be proud to be Jersey--it's a great thing to be!

How New Jersey Are You?

Yeah, baby! How New Jersey am I now? How bout now? Wanna go down the shawr and get a saw-sage sammich? Fawgeddaboud it.

P is for pool, party and presents

Big weekend for the Pooter. Two, count 'em, two parties. Cousin Hannah's party was yesterday and Sally went in the big pool for the first time. She really liked it but she clung to me like a baby monkey. And there was ice cream cake AND bubbles-we got the birthday girl a bubble maker that makes enormous bubbles and was a great hit with young and old alike, although the teenager thought it could be improved if fire was involved. I told hubby that he comes from rednecks, cause they do love to set things on fire, but he said it was a guy thing. Hmmmm.

I really liked this picture until my mother looked at it and said, "hey, you've got my figure". Sigh.

I told you there were bubbles. Big bubbles.

Now, today, Eldest Daughter turned 15. Yikes! There were more balloons, too, which the Pooter really liked. And more ice cream cake, which turns her into a baby bird-face upturned, mouth wide open and little squawks for more ice cream. Jenn got more sewing supplies(including a dress form) and a gift certificate for Lush (squeeee!!), so a trip to the city is in our future. And we told her we're not buying her any more clothes, she has to sew them all. The Pooter, meanwhile, is sleeping off all the ice cream cake.

She's crawling

No time to write, I've got a baby to chase. She is everywhere. Not sure if the rooms not babyproofed? Just put her on the floor, she'll find whatever dangerous item is lying around. She's like a little dart. I want to get a playpen, or play den or whatever they're called. Except that I have a sneaking suspicion she's learning to climb, too.

It's the end of the world as we know it

Yesterday, I saw a dad with 2 little kids, ages 3 or 4, riding tricycles. Not the old fashioned trikes that were red and had a tendency to tip over, like mine when I was wee. These were more like boring looking big wheels. And they were wearing helmets. Helmets. Now, I'm all for child safety, but really, these kids couldn't have been more than 2 inches off the ground. They have a longer fall from a standing position (come to think of it, one kid was walking with a helmet on). Maybe they should just encase the kids in bubble wrap.

Speaking of child safety, it's time to put up the baby gate, lower the crib mattress and hide the cats (mrow!). Sally can almost crawl. She's mastered the arms, and then one leg, but that last leg just won't cooperate and she winds up pushing back into a sitting position and then rolls the last part of the way. She gets around, is what I'm saying.

Hmmm, what do I do now?

Let's see, put the arm out.

I don't seem to be moving

Dammit, dog, don't just sit there sniffing your balls...

Help me!

I win! I win! I win!

Guess who said her first words? Salome! Guess what her first word was? Dada? No. Mama? Yes, yes, yes!!!! Gary tried to call me while I was in the OR and got my voice mail. He had the speaker phone on. Sally heard my voice and said, "Mama". Smart girl. Then this morning when I came home she looked at me and said, "mamamamama". How happy am I? This happy-















Give me the camera so that I might eat it

Jenn didn't like the last pic I posted of her. It didn't capture her totally cool attributes, so I'm posting another:

My two girls

I like to see people's reactions when I tell them I have a teenager. It usually goes like this: they see The Pooter and ask how old she is. Then they ask if she's my first. I say no, I have a 14 year old. Then their jaws drop. "That's a big age difference!" Yeah, no kidding. My new neighbor(who I suspect is actually crazy) actually had the cajones to say Pooter was an accident. Her being a mother of 4 might be an accident. A 10-car pileup, actually. But my Pooter is here on purpose. The most common response, however, is all the folks who say, "Oh, you have a built in babysitter." This always makes me cringe. I don't want the Dear Kid to think that Pooter is another chore. Especially when I still carry the scars of my big sister babysitting me. Like I asked her to babysit me. I think I'd rather have had Lizzie Borden for a sitter, at least she was nice to her sister.

Well, anyhoo, I try not to advantage of Jenn. I do a lot of, "can-you-sit-with-the-baby-while-I..." And I told her if the baby swallows anything she leaves around-like paper clips-she has to sift through her poop to find it. But paper clips aside, she is a really good big sister and her Pooter loves her.

Have I won the lottery yet?

I've been awake since 5am, at work since 7:30am. It's now 12 hours later and I've hit my limit for time without The Pooter. Especially since most of my job requires sitting on my butt and waiting:waiting for the doctor to show up, waiting for the family to make a decision. Before baby, it was nice to while away the time, catch up on my email or study something(or write in my blog). But now it's a BIG FAT WASTE OF MY TIME! Time I could be snuggling, feeding, nursing, playing with or singing songs to my Pooter.

Dear God,

If you let me win the lottery, I promise I'll do good things with the money. Feed orphans, take in strays, recycle. It doesn' t even need to be the big MEGA millions. One or two million would be fine, I'm not greedy. I just want to stay home for the next couple 'a years.

Sincerely yours,

Pooter's mom

p.s. What if I say a Novena?

I'm not surprised

Apparently, this is the city in Europe that's most "me", according to a very scientific, internet quiz:

You Belong in Amsterdam

A little old fashioned, a little modern - you're the best of both worlds. And so is Amsterdam. Whether you want to be a squatter graffiti artist or a great novelist, Amsterdam has all that you want in Europe (in one small city).

What European City Do You Belong In?

I wish. Any European city would be nice to visit right now

Bright Lights, Big City

We're finally done moving, but not unpacking. I love the new apartment. I love the wood floors and thick moldings aroung the doors and windows. I love the dishwasher! (Do you want to marry it? Yes, yes I do). Sally is getting bigger and older every second. Latest stats: 21.5 lbs and 28".
Yikes. She eats everything, including a cheerio if you help her out and stick it in her mouth(she's still working on the pincer grasp). She drinks out of a cup-a real cup, again if you help her out, but she really likes the sips of water. She was really afraid of something for the first time tonight. It was warm and we turned on the ceiling fan and she totally freaked out! She was looking at it and crying and even after we calmed her down she still looked at it with total distrust. Weird. I want to take more pictures but I can't find our camera....it's packed along with a bunch of other crap I can probably live without but can't be parted from. So, while no really new pics, here are some from one of our last walks at the old house.

Rhetter, the wonder poo

Pooter and Dadoo

Pooter, Dadoo and Rhetter play fetch

Pooter and her Mama

What are we feeding this kid?

Pooter is huge...Where Jenn was my little sprout, Sally is the green giant. We went to the Dr's this week. She's 28" long and 21 1/2 pounds. 95% for height, off the charts for weight. Doc told us to "keep an eye" on what she's eating, but it's probably a growth spurt. And I wonder why I feel achey all the time-it's cause I lug this big kid around all day.

The move is over, thanks to my wonderful family who helped us. I've saved a few boxes for Richard and Mercedes to move when they get back-just for old times sake. Now we're sorting and unpacking and putting things up that need to be put up and where in the hell are my shoes-that sort of thing. We finally have a place where we can be proud to have people over so maybe for Jenn's birthday we'll have a party.

We've got teeth!

Gary was feeding Sally breakfast Thursday and said the spoon kept going "clink, clink." I know what that means. Sure enough, I fed her dinner and heard it too, so I stuck a finger in there and dang if she didn't have TWO teeth on the bottom. And she hasn't been that cranky, either. Well, at least before that she wasn't too cranky. Since then has been another story. She's so fussy...I would think that once the teeth were through, she'd feel better, so maybe she's expecting more. Jenn once got 5 teeth in one month(ugh). I keep feeling around in her mouth. No teeth, but Salome seems to like the gum massage. And she's drooling worse than the dog. I haven't given her orajel though, cause I heard it can make the biting-thing worse. She bit me yesterday and BOY was it shocking! I thought she took a chunk out of me, but all parts of me are intact and unmarked. So we give her tylenol occassionally, when she seems really out sorts. It's just in time, too, cause we started solid food last week and she's been happily gumming bananas and rice ever since.

In other news, we're moving. Richard should be thankful he's in Korea and won't be pressed into duty. We are, however, throwing out a ton of stuff(or giving it away), so it may be one of my easier moves. Gary is in high-motivational-gear, keeping us busily packing and ruthless about what gets tossed. The apartment is in a 2 family. It reminds me of the old house, with wood floors and wide moldings and even a stained glass window in the dining room. Oh, and glass doorknobs and a pair of french doors leading to the sunporch. Can't wait to have people over.

More cuteness & friends

Lately, Salome's been staring at her hands a lot, like she's at a little, baby rave. The other day she kept opening and closing her hand VERY SLOWLY and marveling at it. I could hear the little synapses firing in her brain. Recent things of interest include her new pet giraffe from Janet and Bill for Valentine's Day, The show "Big, Big World" on PBS which I love, too, and sitting up (as opposed to spitting up, which she does also) In case you didn't get enough pictures below, here's more:

A young Bella Abzug

(if you get this joke, you're OLD!)

Waiter, a spot of tea and don't skimp on the scones!

Salome reads to her bear-y good friend

No, this is the duck. That's the tractor.

Has anyone seen my bear?

Time to kick back and relax with Giraffe

Well, that's all for now-see ya!

Some random musings

Don't they make boppies in your size, Aunt Chris?

Don't you wish YOU had a cat hat?

See, Granpa, it goes like this....

She must be looking at her Daddy

New posts are coming soon!

Really, I know I've been slack but I'm trying to figure out photoshop so I can do some AMAZING things with Pooter Pics. And for those of you(Christine) who had to register to leave a comment, I apologize. Now anyone can comment, not just blogger people.

To keep you happy, here is a really funny link:

Parenting Lament

Richard, as you know, left for Korea Tuesday for a year of teaching the heathens Korean children how to speak English. I, naturally, forgot to bring a camera to his send off. This means that he will travel the world for the next 30 years and I'll never have a picture of him and his little niece. The only way to avoid this curse will be to travel to Korea. So be it! Anyway, new pics coming soon.

How Did I Get Here?

It never ceases to amaze me that Salome is mine(well, ours. Sorry Gar). I look at her and wonder how she got here. I mean, I KNOW how she got here. But even after 9 months of puking, heartburn and sleeplessness, it seems too easy. We didn't have to file any requests or take a test or anything. I've done more paperwork to adopt a cat from the pound. It's amazing. And here she is, ours to keep forever.

Now, I'm not suggesting that people need a license to get a child. Mostly because I think it's fraught with the possibility of abuse. Could you imagine the Bush administration letting someone like me have a child. Preposterous. More important, something so mysterious should never become the realm of beaurocrats. Babies shouldn't be ordered using form 65-B, filled out in triplicate. I like to keep looking in wonder at her and you know, she looks the same way at me sometimes.

10 Things I Love About Pooter

10. She's snuggable.
9. Her lopsided, little grin when she wakes up in the morning.
8. The way she giggles at her dog.
7. Everything is new and amazing to her.
6. Her big, blue eyes.
5. She's extremely kissable.
4. She likes to rock with her big sister.
3. She smells good(unlike the dog).
2. She brings her whole family happiness everyday.
1. She's a POOTER!

I'm a Big Girl Now

Just got back from the pediatrician's. Sally has GROWN! She is 18 lbs and 26 1/2" long. In the 95th percentile. Daddy claims it's his superior genes. I think it's the superior food. Either way, she is one happy, chubby baby. She's sleeping pretty well. She loves her Mama and Papa and her big sister and especially her big, smelly dog. He just cracks her up. I have to try and get a picture of Sal laughing at her dog.

Why Did I Wait So Long?

Today, out of the blue, I wanted a baby blog. I should have started one ages ago, starting with me in enormous maternity clothes followed by gross and explicit scenes from the birthing room. Then every day I could add exactly what times I fed her (12:30, 2:30, 4:30, 6:30, 8:30, 9:06, 10:30, etc-you get the idea. But this pregnancy didn't really lead me to introspection. The baby, on the other hand, has led me to a state of joy and bliss hitherto undiscovered. Today, she was in her little bouncy-bounce and her hand reached out to move a little, plastic piece from one side to the other and I realized, "She is trying to do something ON PURPOSE!" It was like a little epiphany, for her and for me. I'm up to my waders in baby love and sinking fast.