A Good Day

The house is now completely quiet (for now). The dishes are done, dinner was pretty dang good, it smells like rain outside, and I have a brief window to take a shower. Thank goodness for the little things. The only thing missing is chocolate. Oh well, I'll eat my substitute sweet treat of apricots and cottage cheese. Ahh, it's hard to believe that only a couple of hours ago I was changing poop underwear for the third time today (we're still fighting the potty training beast) and Kizzie was wailing plaintively in her swing, thinking "How dare you take care of poop pants, I have needs here!". Only a few minutes later, after eating, she was cooing and smiling at me. Babies are totally forgiven for being bipolar, aren't they?

One more video . . .

That last video was cute, but here's my favorite!

Here is the video, for real.

The Internet Gods have been toying with me. Not being able to access my blog, I couldn't immediately fix the mistake of not adding the video in my last post. Here I am to repent. Just to explain, there are two videos. In the first one, the visual's not so hot, but she is making cuter noises. In the second one, Max is "helping" me try to get Kizzie to talk, and in the process is kind of forcefully poking her face and calling her "Kitties". It's too funny. Kiz is going to be a toughie, for real.

If you could only see how cute she is in real life!

It's official--I'm in love with my daughter (and Max too of course). Here is a video of her "talking" to me after eating one afternoon. I really don't remember if Max was this vocal at her age. She will hold a conversation with me for over 30 minutes with various facial expressions and tricks. Her skills include blowing spit bubbles, smiling, giggling, and squealing with delight (which oddly enough only Max can get her to do). Her favorite thing to look at is still faces, and momma's face is still her favorite. Whether she will warm up fully to daddy remains to be seen, and surely with only happen once the milk factory is closed for business.

Another month has gone by . . . whew!

This Friday will be Kizzie's third month of life. She and I are having a rough week because I'm on meds that are not safe for her to consume through breast milk, so I'm pumping and dumping, and she and I are going nuclear. I feel like a cow hooked up to the pump, and keep in mind that she's still eating about 12 times a day. Holy Cow! (Literally). In between pumping, and feeding, and cleaning the house, we're trying to pack and go through things to get ready for the big move to Flagstaff in three weeks. Arghhh! On Sunday I was in the mother's lounge at church, which is in the bathroom, and two little girls came in to go to the bathroom with their mother while I was pumping, as modestly as I could. One girl said, "Mommy why is she have stuff hooked up to her boobies?" I have never been that embarrassed nursing, let me tell you. I hope that Kizzie appreciates this, although I don't think she understands why I can't cuddle and nurse her like normal. I'm determined to get over this nursing hump and be successful. Wish me luck!

PS--I have a lot of respect for milk cows now, who spend their entire lives nursing and hooked up to suction machines. Yuk!

PPS--Why is it that double chins are so cute on babies but not so cute on adults?

My little girl is two months old!

I always promised that I would not be the mom that has an album filled with baby pictures of the first child and just a sad few of the other children. Unfortunately, life gets pretty busy and I forget to take very many pictures before she's changed again. This morning at 7:22 am my little baby turned 8 weeks old! I have to argue with people at stores about it, but I promise that she really is that old. Very petite still, but now at two months. She's looking more and more like me, I hope, but still the spitting image of her brother.

I just had to share a really funny story that happened yesterday after bathtime:

Max points to Kizzie's herniated belly button (which is poking out about an inch or so) and says "Wee Wee". "No" I said, "It's not her wee wee, it's her belly button. See, you have a belly button, here (pointing) and she has a belly button here (pointing to hers)". He continued to stare at me with a perplexed look on his face and then pointed to his penis and said "No Mom, it's a wee wee". After about five minutes of this, I gave up. Jack says that I can't tell her when she gets older that her older brother thought that her belly button was a wee wee. Don't try to argue anatomy with a five year old. We're still trying to explain to him that his boobies don't make milk like mommy's.

Love you all. Sorry that my posts center around kids lately. It's pretty much all that I do. Maybe when we move to Flagstaff I'll hang out here and there with people my age.

eating and growing

r
Max absolutely LOVES his sister! Every day he begs me to let him hold her. He got so tickled when I took these pictures that he was giggling uncontrollably. I'm sure he can't wait until she can actually play with him. I love my kids!!!!!!



ps--Sorry that this is short on words. I'm typing one handed.