7 months

I almost missed this one. I'd been waiting for a week or so to be able to say "7 months" instead of qualifying it with "almost" or "nearly". Then today, I was going about my normal routine and thought, "she'll be 7 months soon." Only, soon is now!

Uncertain face...

because every other shot looked like this!

The Vitals:
18lb 14oz
27"
She's the biggest of the Nebraska babies, but still wears her 3-6m onesies. 6-9m pants though, thanks cloth diaper booty. She's not just the heaviest, or chubbiest, she's actually...bigger. I don't realize or think about it until I'm holding little L, who isn't scrawny or anything, but her hands are just much tinier and the 2+ lb difference seems huge when it comes to picking her up versus Eleanor.

Highlights:
October was a great month of stuff! She's exploring her world more and more each day--mostly with her mouth. She growls at things, chatters away and smiles at most everything.
Her first Halloween was the biggest calendar event.
We also had her first curry (tikka masala with Julie and Erica), first hummus, and first flu shot.
Second double ear infection, second funeral/memorial service (boo! Hiss!)
She got to spend time out at her Grandma & Grandpa Boswell's house. She met lots of cousins (second cousins? First cousins once removed? I never did get that sorted out) at her great-granddad's memorial.
She had her first (almost) full night away from me too. It wasn't traumatic for either of us.

On her way to get the Puca

Skills:
Standing-- not unassisted, but without being held... Just steadied. Do you know what I mean? She can stand holding on to something. Like our fingers, or the coffee table.
Scooting...mostly backwards
She doesn't really crawl in the traditional sense of the word, but that does not stop her from getting all over the place. She sort of army crawls, sort of just uses her fingers and toes to pull herself around on her belly. Hardwood floors help since there is much less friction.
She can (most of the time) get from sitting to crawlooching in a fiarly graceful manner. There was a lot of faceplanting before.
Feeding herself. I hesitate to say this, since she's been doing it since she was almost 5 months old, but she's more accurate now. She can work a spoon with about 50% success. She gets all the food we give her into her mouth and has been chomping and gnawing things such that she more reliable ingests it.
She sits like a champ and passes toys from one hand to the other.

Works in progress:
Walking. I wish I were joking, because COME ON! I don't need an ambulatory baby yet. I don't think she'll actually do it for a while yet, but when she stands holding on to us, she tries to take steps. She's succeeded a couple of times. It's both exciting and terrifying.
Teeth. I felt the lump of where I think a tooth is trying to come in. The bottom left one. We'll see if it gets here soon.
Crawling--in the hands and knees sense.
Pulling up. She's done it precicely once, for. 5 seconds. She startled herself and fell back down immediately. Side note--invest in more throw pillows.
Pincher grasp. She's sort of got it. She can pick things up, but has a hard time keeping ahold of them and in the case of food, letting go once it's to her mouth.

Waking up happy

She likes:
Her basket of toys--specifically taking them all out of the basket
Chasing her octo-ball thingy around the living room
Trying to pet the animals. Thankfully all the animals in her universe are either incredibly patient or smart enough to stay out of her way.
Going for walks--which is to say riding about in the stroller. We have a problem with the sun getting in her eyes, which keeps her from viewing the scenery, but she still enjoys a good stroll about our (surprisingly) hilly neighborhood
Bath time, especially since the addition of bath toys
All the food. We have yet to encounter a food that she doesn't like. She makes interesting faces at the first taste of things, but then quickly reaches for more, more, more.
People. Praise God she is a social baby right now. We go on lots of lunch dates and she is content to be passed around to any number of strangers without fussing--for now.
The Jumperoo continues to be a huge hit. I've had to shorted the straps twice now already because she has learned how to actually jump in it.
Car rides
Grandpa's fish tank
The blue plastic dryer balls
Her giraffes. She has many, but she smiles at them on sight.
Me. Which is good, because she's stuck with me for 99% of her time.

She dislikes:
Having things put over her head (like clothes in the getting dressed process)
Having her face wiped
Having her nose wiped
Having her hands wiped
Having a wiping motion applied to any part of her person at all, ever.
Being consistent (this is nothing new--she's been a pile of guesswork from the day she was born) about when and how she will sleep
The blue bulb of doom (nasal aspirator)

I like:
The way she smiles when she sees me.
She's learned to put her arms up and reach for us when we go to get her out of the Jumperoo, and that is my current most favorite thing ever (at this moment).
Cloth diapers. It seems weird, but after a couple of round of antibiotics and travel which led to more disposable use, I really do prefer the cloth. It contains messes better for us. Her skin seems to like it better. Really, the only downside is the laundry.
Watching her feed herself. It's fascinating. She's just like a little person, eating real food.
Ok, just watching her do everything. She's better than tv.

I dislike:
Blowouts
Antibiotics
Her inconsistency in regards to falling asleep. Sometimes she'll play happily in her bed/cradle/co-sleeper after eating and just calmly fall asleep. It isn't often, but when it does happen it is like a tiny miracle of joy. Sometimes she'll fuss and cry for a few minutes when I lay her down and then fall asleep. Sometimes she cries and screams and gets so worked up that she can't sleep. It's pretty much the toss of the dice which it will be when it comes to nap/bed time. We keep to the same routine every time as much as possible. Something has to be a constant in this experiment, and she is definitely a variable.
Now, as I sat here typing this, she's been playing with the toys in her basket and scooting around the living room. Only, she started off scooting, and now, just because I said she couldn't/wasn't she's getting up on her hands and knees. Most of her locomotion seems to come from comando-style crawling, but that hands and knees thing is coming any minute now. Ack! She got my toes. Gotta go!

NaBlowItOutYourOldWazoo

It's November. National Write a bunch month. I'm really enjoying reading all the stuff that folks are putting up and it's reminding me that I do like my bloggy friends, but...
I'm not doing it.

I feel pretty accomplished when I manage to make my once a month Eleanor update, so every day for 30 days, especially when 15 of those days will be spent in Weatherford with my grandma... nope, not looking so good.

I would like to post MORE though, which is nice as a goal, as it is pretty easy to accomplish. Twice a month and I'm set, right?

I do have things that I want to write about. I've decided to buy all the weird looking squash at the grocery and eat it. I like squash. This should be a good plan. So fat I've only done the 2 squash that I always get--acorn and butternut. Oh, and I guess yellow (summer) squash and zucchini, but I don't ever really think of those as squash, even though they are. My brain thinks of squash as just the fall/winter varieties. Also, I have an ENTIRE cookbook dedicated to squash and pumpkin. It's beautiful and I'm just dying for a chance to make all the things. There are about 6 different squash soup recipes. It's gonna be great.

I'm trying to get better about doing things during Eleanor's naps, but recently her sleeping has taken a turn for the decidedly ugly. I don't even really want to talk about it because I simultaneously want all the advice so I can try everything and maybe something will work, and also don't want to hear about what worked for you, because that means your baby is sleeping and mine isn't and I'm a little tired and bitter, ok? *sigh* I just want more than 2 consecutive hours of sleep. I know I'll get it someday, but we all know that I'm terribly impatient about waiting for things I want.

Life is sadness and woe. Sleep is for suckers. I don't wanna nap!

Oh, hi there! I missed you!

One of he saving graces is that Eleanor wakes up so very happy (when she's truly done sleeping). So I have an easy way of knowing when she's ready to be done napping and when she needs to be re-napped, and I get lots of smiles and playful snuggles. Can't go wrong there.

This is Halloween

I love Halloween. I love dress-up in general, and on this holiday, everyone joins me in playing and I think it's the most fun ever. Also, this year, I have a baby to dress up. So I did. Repeatedly. With great joy and vigor!

must be the season of the witch

the giraffe from her 6m portraits

ERMAGHERD! Tutu!

Posing like a prima donna 

Monsters Inc 

Family fun at the shindig for my moms' group

Pint-sized punk

I had way too much fun with my fake hair and eyeliner

This morning's happy girl in her giraffe suit. I call this her Penny face. I think it's the eyelashes.

blurry photo, but you gotta see the mane and tail!

Ta-da! Baby in costumes! Enjoy the day. Have sweets, play dress up!

Light the corners of my mind

Anyone who has seen Memento knows that "memory can change the shape of a room; it can change the color of a car. And memories can be distorted. They're just an interpretation, they're not a record, and they're irrelevant if you have the facts." While I've known that to be true intellectually for quite some time, recently my own brain revealed its fickle nature.

For our honeymoon, J & I went to Ireland. J drove because at the time I couldn't opperate a manual transmission at all. At present I only do it under duress and it stresses me smooth out and I don't like it. But I can do it. But I digress. J did all the driving. Which means I was always in the passenger seat. Which is fine. J likes to drive and I like to take pictures out the windows of moving vehicles. A match made in heaven.

Recently, in talking with my cousin Buddy--and remind me to tell you about kilometers and milliliters in a bit--I realized 2 things. One--they don't drive on the other side of the road in Germany. I think I kind of knew that, but not really. So when Buddy comes here and drives my folks BMW (which stands for Bavarian Motor Works...does everyone in the world but me know this?) it's not really all that strange for him. He's driven speds with triple digits on the Autobahn, so I imagine the Texas speeders don't faze him one bit.

This is relevant in that it got me thinking about driving around Ireland and what I remember from our cross-country drive. After spending a weekend in a little B&B on the Antrim coast in Northern Ireland, we drove 6 or so hours to Donegal. We saw many rainbows and Ireland really is as green as you think it is. It's also got pretty blues and golds and spots that remind me a bit of northern California. We couldn't play the cow game because the Irish country side is just lousy with sheep instead of cows. Black faced sheep and white faced sheep and since it's very difficult to brand a woolly animal, they spray paint them instead, which led to the "one sheep, two sheep, red sheep, blue sheep" game instead.

So, I have fond memories of riding around the northern part of Ireland (and Northern Ireland, but those are two different things) while Jeremy drove the manual transmission Passat wagon or whatever it was. It was blue. I remember that much. Nothing unusual about my memories. They're all from the perspective of the passenger seat.

Only, the US passenger side. Which is the driver's side in Ireland. I know this. I remember frequently walking to the wrong side of the car and J teasing me that I was welcome to try and drive. I rememeber that. I know that I sat on the right side of the car--I mean, the correct side of the car, which in this case is the left. But all my memories have re-written themselves to show from the OTHER side. My brain says I turned my head to the right to look out my window, and I know that's not right. I know I looked left. If I did look right, it was to talk to J, but what I know to be true is in direct conflict with my actual memories. It's as though my brain just merged the Irish memories with all the other car memories and made everything match. They should stick out like a sore thumb because I only have that one trip where "shotgun" was on the left. But they don't. It's the only set of memories that I concretely know are wrong.

I wonder how many other memories are wrong. I know that the room I think of as the green room from the house on 1414D Washington St wasn't really green. It had green curtains and a green bedspread, so the light in there always seemed green, but the walls weren't painted green. I know that, but I don't remember the walls as white. Growing up we had a couch that my mother swears up and down was brown, but I thought it was grey. I mean, it was a varigated pattern of light colors that my mind read as grey. I suppose once upon a time it could have been brown, or maybe beige would be more accurate, but I don't remember it any other color than grey. Colors changing seems more natural a memory lapse than to completely change the interior of an automobile.

Unreliable brain.

OH! Kilometers. So, in talking with Buddy, I revealed that I say it kill-OM-eters. Buddy laughed at me. The inconsistency here is that all the other measurements aren't pronounced this way. It's centi-meter, not cent-IM-iter, milli-liter not mill-IL-ilter. But I've since vowed that I shall be consistent. I will say mill-IL-iter because it's way more fun than milli-liter. Try it! Kilo-meter may be boring and kill-OM-eter isn't that much more exciting, but cent-IM-iter and mill-IL-iter are a riot.

Growing

I know Eleanor is growing. The numbers on the scale go up. Clothes and diapers get smaller. But I spend all day, every day with her, so it's also a little hard to process that she hasn't always been this way. So, some photographic evidence.

0 months old

0 months

1 month

2 months

3 months

3 months

4 months

 

5 months

6 months

6 months

6 months

We made it! Half a year! Wooohoo!

The Vitals:
18lb 6oz (in fleecy pajamas and a cloth diaper)
26.5"
Still growing and still squishy--those are the at home numbers. We'll see what the doctor's office has to say tomorrow. Flu shot, ahoy!

The highlights:
Baby's first cough which led to baby's first ear infection which led to baby's first antibiotics. None of these are fun milestones
Baby's first tutu! (Also baby's second tutu, but that's less exciting)
She attended her second funeral/memorial service. I don't know if that counts as a highlight, but she did get to meet many cousins of the second variety...or first cousins, once removed. I'm never sure how that works. My cousins. Also my aunts and uncles from far away.

Skills:
Sitting up (mostly) without tipping over
Locomotion--I'm not willing to call it crawling yet, but it is a coordinated lift-face plant-toe push maneuver that gets her places. She rolls and ooches.
Hand flapping
Babbling (now with consonants!)

Works In Progress:
The aforementioned crawling.
Sitting up--in the way of getting herself from laying down to sitting unaided
Standing. Oh, we're a long way from standing unaided, but she *wants* to pull up and be standing. So, much like sitting, the desire is there long before the actual proficiency.

She likes:
Chewing on everything
Laughing and "talking" to herself and everyone
Trying to climb me while nursing
The Jumperoo!

She dislikes:
Taking a nap if there are GOINGS ON TO BE A PART OF!!

I like:
Laughing and talking with her
Coordinating outfits (and this has led me to buy the supplies to make bows for her head! Yeah, it's awesome.)

I dislike:
Her not wanting to nap when there are GOINGS ON SHE WANTS TO BE A PART OF
Her attempts to climb Mt. Hudge

She's pretty awesome these days. Beautifully chubby and squishy and sociable. She's all smiles and grins, even for strangers. Her latest favorite game is to sit on her blanket with a basket of toys juuuuust out of reach. She then reaches them and pulls them out. It's pretty fascinating to watch, at least for me. We go on walks and she likes to interact with the other babies in our playgroup. That group is about 90% lady babies, which is pretty rad. We're still pretty bad at having a consistent nighttime routine. I mean, there are things that we do, but it's not very...routiny yet. We're still doing baby-led weaning. She's not ingesting that much, but she is having a grand time gnawing on things. Raw bell peppers and cucumber are big hits, as are apples and bananas. Sweet potato and carrots remain popular. Bread gives her the full-body happies. Also: belly rubs, trying to "pet" the pets, and tutus.

Photogenic

To update, yesterday remained wonderful from start to finish. There were many giggles, some pictures in a tutu (not the one I made during her morning nap, but the one that Kammah and I made on Monday) and so on. Today has been... less stellar, but we did go get her 6mo pictures taken, and that reminds me that I never showed you the 3mo ones. Well, let's fix that, shall we?

So, that's Squnchler, age 3 months.
Now for today's pictures. Dude. Just... I'm in love with this kid and MAN she photographs well! (toot-tooting my own horn!) Also, I made that tutu! MADE IT (which was so stinkin' easy)! The headband and tail are from my giraffe costume last year. And yes, the tiny giraffe (Beanie Baby) makes another appearance.

Remind me

Should J and I ever decide to do this baby thing again, I want you to remind me about today. And by you, I really mean me. Now me needs to talk to future me to remember today.

Today is good. I got out of bed at the not-early hour of 9 and while Eleanor finished sleeping I made a tutu. Well, 95% of a tutu, because I think it needs just a little more fluffing and maybe a ribbon bow before I'm ready to call it totally done, but still. I cut up 50 yards of tulle and tied it around an elastic band, which is making a tutu. I also watched some Aaron Sorkin while I did it, and 25 episodes in, I'm ready to say that I'm just not in love with Sports Night. It's not because it's about sports, which I care nothing about, because A) it's not about sports, it's about relationships and 2) I don't give a squat about politics and I loved The West Wing. It's because I don't really care about any of the characters. I can't put my finger on why. I also ate breakfast while making a tutu and watching Sports Night. This is a morning full of win.

After Eleanor woke up for the day--which I can now tell when she's waking up to eat and when she's up for the day by how she wakes up. Tangent interrupting that sentence and I'm not going to fix it, so just hold on. When she's waking up to eat, she fusses, eats, and then goes right back to sleep. When she's waking up for the day, she wakes up happy. It's wonderful. She sings to herself and plays with whatever she can get her hands on and she smiles at me. So, right, after Eleanor woke up, I got her dressed in a cute orange and pink gingham dress with matching bloomers and accessorized with a pink headband. Then she played by herself in the Jumperoo for 30 minutes while I cleaned the kitchen. And I don't just mean emptied & reloaded the dishwasher, which is usually what I mean when I say I cleaned the kitchen. No, I mean I cleaned counter tops. And the stove. And the MICROWAVE. I was productive.

Then Eleanor was done playing by herself so I played with her. We sat on the floor and she chewed her toys, which is what counts as playing for us at this point. Puca came to sniff her and she grabbed his fur. He is incredibly patient and gentle with her and I'm pretty ridiculously excited to see how much she loves watching him play. I know that most moms think they got the best baby ever (and I totally did) but hands down I got the best dog in the whole wide world--barking at everything that touches our sidewalk not withstanding.

When it was time for her nap, I recognized it by her demeanor, not the clock. That may sound simple and like a giant no-brainer but that's a really big deal for me. She doesn't have a schedule and her routine has always been fairly unpredictable, or at least that's how it feels at the time, but looking back she really does have patterns and I can recognize them now. That makes me feel really good at my job. I sometimes understand my baby. On this day, I saw that her fussiness was because she was tired and I put her down for her nap. In her own bed. Well, I nursed her to sleep in our bed then transfered her to her own bed, but she's taking her naps in her bed. This is an accomplishment for me. Just 2 weeks ago she was still taking her naps on our bed surrounded by a bumper of pillows. She had been taking naps in her cradle, but even with the bumper (breathable, of course) she was getting her hands and feet caught in the bars but couldn't get them un-stuck, so back to the bed. Now she naps in her bed. In our room. It's progress.

If tomorrow doesn't go this well, I want to remember that today was good. I'm pretty bad at remembering the good days as it turns out. I dwell on the bad days and kill myself with comparison. Comparison is the thief of joy. Someone wise and probably more famous than me said that and it's true. Except when it's not. I mean, I don't think I'll ever be able to stop comparing myself to others. I know I should focus on just being the best me I can be because only I am me and I'm not anyone else. When I focus on being grateful for how good I have it--and I do have it good, objectively good, not just subjectively--it's in comparison to others. I am grateful that I have a car and a house with functioning temperature control and almost enough room to store the oodles and oodles of stuff we accumulate and enough disposable income to have hobbies instead of a career. I get to stay home with my adorable baby and I'm lucky to have all of that because there are lots of others who don't. But that's comparison too, and when I do that it's just too easy to flip over to the other side of the "but I don't have" lists. I've never been on a cruise and my baby doesn't sleep through the night and she's still in our room and not sleep trained to sleep in her own room in a crib all night long without us.

For crying out loud! That's what I have to complain about? I've never been on a cruise?! So what! I honeymooned in Ireland and I don't really like bathing-suit beaches anyway. Which is why I'd love to do an Alaskan cruise, or the Holy Land cruise that my aunt & folks are taking in November, or to take a boat down the Rhine river, or the Danube, or... See, there's always something to dream about. And fine, great, dream! I like dreaming. It's good to have "bucket list" items and things to plan and hope for. They should bring joy though, not depression because I haven't done it yet.

And Eleanor's not even 6 months old yet. (And you guys, wait until you see the pictures I have for her 6 month update. You're gonna die from the cute. I'm just saying... This one is gonna be good.) Sure there are plenty of babies younger than her sleeping longer stretches in their own room. But I LIKE having her in our room. I like having her near to me. She will move to her own room in her own time. This works for us, for our family. She gets time to herself to explore and play and entertain herself, soothe herself, and be her own tiny human. She's not spoiled or coddled--she's a baby! What's more, she's my baby, not anyone else's baby. If I have to be nice to me for being just me not anyone else, then the same rules apply to my mini-me. And I'm not saying this because anyone has said anything hateful or hurtful or judgmental disguised-as-advice to me. This is me saying out loud what I need to remember because my own brain wants to sabotage me. My brain wants to paint a bleak picture of reality and it's just not true.

Today is good. I'm wearing real clothes, clothes I could comfortably leave the house in. I've had nutritious food and even slept in a bit. I've made crafts and taken care of my house. I trimmed Eleanor's nails. It's not a perfect day, but it's good. Eleanor face-planted on the hardwood-laminate floors and I was terrified she'd get a big ugly bruise. Not because I worried about her health or well being. Well, I did, but honestly it was a secondary concern. No, my first worry was that she'd be all banged up for the pictures that I want to have taken tomorrow so I can give 6 mo portraits to the family that's coming in for my granddad's memorial on Friday. Isn't that some Murphy-type rule of babies in pictures? They'll mar their tiny faces just in time to capture it for posterity? (See also, why I trimmed her nails) She's got an ear infection because she's been congested for going on 3 weeks now and she's taking her antibiotic like a champ and she's only had a few bits of inconsolable screaming and she is still generally my happy, sweet, easy-going, social baby, but man! Do I ever beat myself up about it when she gets fussy when we're out with other friends' babies. Like why do *I* have the fussy baby? Why does other babies fussing sound so mild-mannered and when E does it I feel like my ears should fall off? Because those aren't my babies. I just have to cut myself some freaking slack. Hear that, self? Chill. You got a good one. I mean, look at her!

Eleanor being very lady-like at the doctor's office

Also, today is good and it's only noon. I've been productive. I'm presentable for the general public. Eleanor is clean, fed, and happy. (Well, asleep at the moment, but that counts as happy in my book.) Today is good and I want to remember it for later. (Even if later is later today in case things go completely off the rails.)

Twisted, Nostalgia, Moving

I like to braid hair. Mine, friends, my nieces. I would braid Eleanor's but she just doesn't have enough yet (though I did manage to get a bow in it the other day!)

I just like it. It's soothing and pretty and I like it. I've been doing it for over 20 years now (which, when I figured that out, I immediately felt quite old) so my hands just sort of know what to do. I can braid my own hair just as easily as a head that's not mine. If I think about it and pay attention, I can do a dutch braid. Fishbone braids are a piece of cake and I even learned how to do a 4-strand round braid. What I can't manage is a rope braid. It is my nemesis. You twist the individual strands one way and then the rope the other way which makes my brains fall out of my head. I know the MECHANICS, how it SHOULD work, but my hands refuse to obey my head. I can sort of do it on someone else's head, but not mine. Except once, when I did, and now I think that I can, but I CAN'T and  without replicating the results it's not a triumph but a fluke.

So, my iPod got stolen so I've been listening to cds, which isn't bad at all. It's been really nice. And a bit nostalgic because when I went through my cds to grab some from my car, apparently I was channeling a little 2001--the year, not the movie, or book that it's based on. What I mean is that every cd that I grabbed is reminding me of college, specifically the year I moved into the Ghetto Chateau with my Nebraska girls and worked at the college radio station and wrote REALLY bad poetry with my friend Andrew and it's been a nice trip down memory lane. Which reminds me of the article that Andrew wrote for the Daily Nebraskan about how music affects memories and it had the very scientific test along with it. You were supposed to put on a cd, go make out with someone, and then months/years later listen to the same cd and see if you remembered who you were making out with. Well, I wasn't making out with anyone in 2001, so it's easy enough to remember. But I remember Andrew's white Toyota something that we rode around in and deciding that Whatshisface from OkGo made Robert Smith noises. And I remember driving up and down O St. looking for parking so I could meet Erin at YiaYia's while listening to Alkaline Trio. So, I'd say that it works.

I have this habit of always looking at houses/apartments/neighborhoods and deciding whether or not I'd like to live there whenever I'm driving. It's not because of any sort of wanderlust or desire to move. I hate moving. I hate packing and unpacking. I hate finding a new grocery store and transferring my prescriptions to the new CVS and deciding whether or not to keep the same dentist/optometrist/vet from the last house--and that's just when you move across town. But that's not the point I was trying to make. The thing is, I have some very weird rules about my dream house. I don't mean perfectly reasonable things like "a master bathroom with a tub and room for 2 butts at the same time." I mean truly irrational things. For example, my barbie dream house would be on a 1 word, easily pronouncable, easily spelled street. Having lived on Pope's Creek Circle and Caymus Court, I long for simplicity. Also, I don't want any one word that you have to specify is one word--combination words are right out. I'd like a house number that is 3 or 4 digits long. Not 1, 2 or 5. 6 is right out. I want a front porch that you can stand on and be dry if it is raining, and a mail box on that porch.

That's all the randomness my brain has in it at this moment. Now, back to my sleeping baby.

Getting to know you!

So, I'm once again participating in the fabulous Crappy Day Present Exchange hosted, coordinated and wrangled by the lovely R at Doing My Best. You should really sign up for the next one starting October 1st.

Basically you sign up to send small gifts to someone for them to open when they've had a bad day, and someone sends you presents too. It's wonderful. My friend Dan says everyone has a superpower that should be used for good. Doing My Best has the superpower of being able to organize people on the internet and she CERTAINLY uses her powers for good. So, here's some "getting to know you" type stuff for people who want to buy me things... or know things about me.

What is your dream job?
Movie editor. While I have the skill and the desire, I am critically lacking in ambition, which is necessary for any of the highly competitive jobs where movie/tv is involved

If you had 1,000,000 dollars to give away, how would you do it?
Sadly, I'm pretty sure this doesn't mean "give away to a landscaper to do something with my flower beds" so... family. I would take care of family.

Under what circumstances would you adopt a child?
Honestly, at this point, it's a matter of being able to afford to adopt a child.

Why were you given your name?
Oh, well... it's Swedish, and so is my mom's side of the family. It's a character in a Marion Zimmer Bradley novel that my folks read when I was a bun in the oven. It's the name of a botanist, and I think my folks met in botany class. But really it was the only name that they could agree on. And it can't be shortened to a nickname--that was important, which makes me wonder why "Jennifer" was one of the other options

What was the last national park you visited?
Sadly, Yosemite. No, Yellowstone. The one in Wyoming, near Glacier. That one. I liked it a lot. It was 2000 and I had a great time with my family. I'd love to go back.

What was the first thing you learned to cook?
Spaghetti. Not the noodles, the sauce.

What book can you read over and over again?
The Bible. Honestly, it's the book I read most often. But novel? Lamb by Christopher Moore or Good Omens by Neil Gaiman/Terry Prachet

What makes you feel young?
Pigtails and bows

Did you ever work at an on campus job? What was it?
I was a DJ at KRNU, the college radio station.

If you needed someone to act as a character reference for you who would you chose?
My mom. I figure she's known me longest and can see how far I've come

What was the first concert you went to see?
The first one that was all my choice? U2. I did see Gladys Knight & the Pips and Johnny Cash at the San Joaquin Co. Fair in... '92 or so

Who is someone from your past that you are sorry you lost track of?
Howell Belser. Well, techincally her name is Beverly, but she went by her middle name. She was my best friend in 6th grade and I always wonder what she did with her life.

If you could see 24 hours into the future what would you do with this ability?
Never worry about whether or not to take an umbrella

If you had it to do over again what would you study in school?
Same thing I did--radio/television broadcasting with minors in theater and creative writing. I totally did what sounded interesting, so no regrets there

What do you know how to say in a foreign language?
"I left my cheesecake on the piano." Also, "I'm knocked up."

What is your all time favorite joke?
Where does the king keep his armies? (In his sleevies)

What was your first paying job?
I worked the concession stand at the Adler Pools in Libertyville, IL

What is the strangest food you have ever eaten?
Wintermelon soup? Some preparation of octopus? Both at a Chinese New Year dinner when I was 9

What in your life is more important than money?
Chocolate frosting... no, um... faith. (and frosting)

When was the first time you saw the ocean?
No clue. I was probably very wee, since I was born on the Presido in San Francisco.

Family Resemblance

Three generations, one before me

In looking though photos my uncle is putting together for Granddad's memorial service, I am struck by family resemblance. I spent more time with my dad's family growing up because they were all within easy driving distance. My mom's sisters and parents were scattered across the country, and her brother all the way in Germany. I refer to them as the "rock-star" side of the family and because we saw them less, they were more special. It isn't fair and it isn't right, but that's the way it is to kids, right? Anyway, I still think of myself as a Boswell in many ways, but after looking through these pictures, I realize that there is more Jonte in me than I knew. And that's a great thing.

That is not actually a time-traveling Eleanor. That's me

All the kids together for Grandma's 90th birthday

Hats and white gloves! I can't even stand it

My mama and me

My mama, the proud graduate

5 months

I know, I know, she keeps growing! One of these days I'll think to myself, "Finally! She's x old." Which, to be honest, I have thought. 2 weeks was a big milestone in my mind. So was 2 months, and 6 months seems tha way too. But for now, I find it hard to believe that she's grown so much, and also that she hasn't always been this way.

The Vitals:
16lb 8oz
25 inches

She's starting to enlongate but she continues to enchubben faster. She's almost reached the magical "double her birth weight" which means...something.

Highlights:
Her first cold
Her first road trip
Her first funeral
New furniture
Real food

Skills:
Sitting up (for almost a whole minute at a time!)
rolling over (both ways, but this is a fun time-lapse sort of thing, same onesie, look how she's enchubbened!)

blowing raspberries (well, she's done it twice, so I'm counting it)
Shoveling food into her face

Works in Progress:
locomotion--while she can roll both ways, she hasn't yet figured out that if she just keeps rolling one way she could go places

She likes:
Food. All food. ALL FOOD she can get her hands on
Her whatsit toy
The inchworm
Sophie, the ubiquitous chew giraffe
Singing. I know, it sounds crazy, but she's found her upper register. She has a falsetto voice she uses now. It's adorable.
Belly rubs
Whisker kisses

She dislikes:
The Blue Bulb of DOOM (snot-sucker)
the shower head sprayer (which is necessary after giving her food, because while she can get it to her face, her accuracy on getting it in her mouth is still iffy)

I like:
Her tiny fingers and toes
The feeling of triumph that comes after I sucessfully soothe her
Knowing what's wrong and how to fix it (sadly, this happens a lot less frequently than I would like)
2 hour naps
Watching her discover things--mostly toys and food at this point, but she is becoming interested in the pets as well

I dislike:
Snot-nosed babies. Baby colds are gross.

Obviously the big story this month is starting solids. Yes, it's sooner than the WHO recommended 6 months, but this kid was ready. She gets so excited when we put her in her high chair. She's grabbing for everything on our plates (and everywhere else for that matter) and chewing on anything she can get her hands on. So far she's only had veggies, but as soon as I can get to the grocery store, I'm going to try some fruits. We're trying baby led weaning, which is basically just letting her feed herself. With supervision, of course, and stuff that is easy for her to gum up and swallow. I didn't think she was actually ingesting anything--just playing and having a GREAT time--but turns out she did manage to get a little bit of carrot down the hatch. Also, broccoli is messy, FYI.

A Rose by any other name

"What do you call her?" people ask us when we tell them we named our baby girl Eleanor.

We call her Eleanor. Mostly. Sometimes. Ok, so really we call her all manner of things that are not her name.
Squnchler.
Twinkle Butt
Tooty Booty
_______ Girl (Little, Sweet, Darling, Bitty, Baby)
Baby _______ (Girl, Bug, Butt)
Sweetness & Light
Tiny Dancer
Squirmer
Pretty Puker

But I think what people really mean is do we have a nickname for her. Do we call her Ellie? The truth is sometimes I call her Ella. More often I call her Ella-bug. J likes to call her Nora, but for some reason that becomes Nora-bug too.

But she was named for my great-grandma Rose Ella. This little rose might be Ella. She might be Nora. She was also named for J's grandma Wanda OQuin. Maybe she'll decide that she wants to go by her middle name, which would confuse me, but I like the name, so that's ok. So, whatever name she chooses, she will still be as sweet.