Monday, April 7, 2008

Peace

Coco is a little over eight months old and it feels like she’s suddenly making all sorts of progress in her development. She’s down to two naps at reliable times. That’s HUGE. She eats at roughly the same times every day. Another massive step. And then last night… she slept through the night. Not for the first time, oh no. Last night marked the third night in a row that she has slept from 7 pm to at least 6:30 am. This is beyond huge, this is a walk on the moon kind of monumental. I’m watching my tiny baby grow into a tiny human. She’s so… interesting! To me.

And there’s the rub. Aside from assorted grandparents, no one else is really fascinated with the exact details of how she can only scoot backwards or the consistency of avocado she’s willing to swallow versus gnaw on and then spit up. But it’s all I’ve got. I’m a stay at home mom. I am raising a child. Is that enough? What about my development?

I could volunteer. I could walk dogs for the humane society or help out at the local soup kitchen. Or I could do something political – I could support Barack Obama. Or maybe I could organize recycling in the neighborhood. Yeah. And on Friday, I could achieve world peace.

I think baby steps are in order, at least for one of us.

Saturday, April 5, 2008

The itty bitty baby committee has designated my child as the "good baby" and "the calm baby' which is a laugh because they never seen her frustrated. At the gym, where we all meet up for our daily 90 minute Fit Mommies aerobic workout, the babies sit in car seats or on mats next to us and we (okay, maybe just I) use every squeal or grunt as an opportunity to take a break. "Oh honey, are you hungry?" Or "Oh Sweetie, let me get that toy for you."

So no, they never see her cry and no, I do not get the best workout on the planet. But I love that Coco has pulled the wool over their eyes.

It cracks me up.

Less amusing is the realization that I’m jealous of their babies. Or rather, their relationships with their babies. Coco’s just not that into me.

She’s tremendously independent and will talk to herself in her crib for ages after a nap. She frequently plays on her own for up to 30 minutes at a time. Why am I complaining, right? Because she’s not cuddly! I kiss and hug her constantly. It feels like my lips are always on her but she is only interested if I’m vigorously tossing her around or playing a game with her. I feel like she looks at me and thinks, “Dance, clown! Dance!” I have to work so hard for a smile and a giggle. My husband simply appears in the room and she’s all smiles. I hope it’s just a phase. I just want her to cuddle me back!

Thursday, April 3, 2008

And so it begins...

Ailing television sitcoms are often rescued with the addition of a well known celebrity to the cast – a “Special Guest Star” who would move into the spare bedroom and stir up all kinds of trouble; a “guest” who would never, in fact, leave and whose very presence demoted all the other cast members who had previously believed that they were actually the stars of the show. In the 90’s, this was usually Heather Locklear.

In the sitcom that is my life, this is my daughter.