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.

A random mid-month Eleanor update

Here's some cool stuff my baby is doing. I'm not waiting until 5 months to share, because I need to focus on some good stuff now, and Eleanor is FULL of good stuff. We're having a bit of a rough day today, so it will do me good to put my brain in a better place

1- She's sitting up. By herself. Sort of leaned forward in a tripod-ish position, and only for 3 to 5 seconds at a time, but still! It's the first step. She's so close to doing it on her own.

2- Some other milestones: she rolled over officially on July 28th. She discovered her feet on August 6th, in the "eat my toes all the time" sort of way. Then on the 15th we discovered that she could sit up a little bit. All these tiny discoveries have come during the middle of some of the saddest days our tiny family has seen, so it's been a real blessing to have her around. She gives us something positive to focus on.

3- She's been "chewing" on things recently, so I think I'm going to start putting some food in her face. I'm fascinated by baby-led weaning, but I also want to try to make some purees myself, so I think we'll do like we do with diapering--a mish-mash of styles that works for me and keeps me from going crazy. She's definitely a grabby girl at the moment and likes watching us eat, so she's probably close to ready for other foods. I can hardly believe we're even at the point to start talking about this. Nursing has turned into something I really like to do. I don't like when Eleanor seems interested in putting everything BUT me in her mouth, but I love how happy she is when she's nursing. I remember some friends talking about knowing for sure that switching to a bottle was the right choice for them because it made meal-times a happy thing again, and I understand that now. After that first awful month, I never thought I'd enjoy feeding her. I wanted to do it, and I was happy that I could do it, but I didn't enjoy doing it, if that makes any sense. Now that I see solid foods (or mushy ones, whatever) on the horizon, I'm a little sad. Happy that she's growing and developing, and happy that I'll get a little break from being her only food source, but also just a little sad that things are changing. Not that we're done nursing by any means, just... Different.

4- She's started giggling somewhat reliably. Snurffles on her ribs or her daddy's whisker kisses seem to do it almost every time. Her giggle is still one of the best things to ever happen to me. Ever.

dude... look at those eyes!

5- Splashing! Friday night, in the bath, she discovered that she can splash the water. It was so fun to watch her little face light up. She's enjoyed baths for most of her life, but this was a new discovery and she was just delighted. Happy baby is my favorite color.

6-Speaking of color, we've been very curious about what color Eleanor's hair is. Right now, the fluffy fuzz she's got is sort of... Golden brown? Sandy-ish? It looks reddish in the light and she's got blonde eyebrows, so what she ends up with is sort of anyone's guess at this point. She doesn't have the BRIGHT RED hair I had as a baby. Neither does she have enough hair to really tell. BUT! She's got some more hair coming in, like an undercoat and it seems to be blonde. Bright blonde. Pure golden blonde, like her eyebrows. Where on earth that comes from, I have NO CLUE. Maybe from Jeremy.

7- On a totally shallow (and vain) note, my baby is beautiful. I love looking at her face. She makes all these crazy expressions, which are very hard to capture on camera, and someday, when her eyebrows aren't invisible, they'll be even better. Also, having a little girl means I get to buy tiny tutu swimsuits. Yeah!

Bean's baby with Beylit

chillin' with her puppy

8- She's taking an interest in the pets now. She watches them and tries to reach them. Thankfully, we have one of the sweetest dogs I've ever known and he is so incredibly patient with her. Also, with other babies. At my niece's 6th birthday party yesterday he let an 18mo old little boy get a death grip on his fur as he (the boy) tried to walk. Puca just stood there and waited to be rescued.


9- She got to meet one of her namesakes. Jeremy's grandma Wanda's maiden name is OQuin (spelling and punctuation confirmed by a high school reunion notice) and it made my day for her to get to meet Eleanor Quinn. Also, Gib, Jeremy's granddad, was just amazing with her. He made her smile and laugh. It was such a pleasure to see him delight in his latest great-grandbaby.

A series of bad Fridays

I am flattered that Eleanor wants to be like me. With the shape of her fingers and toes, and those chipmunk cheeks, she's got a good start on looking like me. I had to explain to her that some things I'd rather she wait to mimic.

3 weeks ago my granddad fell. They* thought he broke his hip. At the hospital it was determined that his hip wasn't broken, but an old injury had been exacerbated. Other complications arose and he died.

2 weeks ago, Eleanor's granddad** fell. They thought he broke his hip. At the hospital it was determined that his hip wasn't broken, but an old injury had been exacerbated. Other complications arose and he died a week ago.

It's been a series of bad Fridays around here.

J wrote a great post about his dad over on his blog, and I don't have much more to add to that. Randy loved his family. He loved being a grandfather and was delighted to spend time with all the babies. He always said I was his favorite daughter-in-law. As it turns out, I'm also my Aunt Cheryl's favorite niece. Mostly because there is no competition in either category.

Tonight we had a party. A jam session and a time to tell stories to celebrate Randy's life. Those are the two things I remember him doing most--telling stories and playing music.

* "They" being medical professionals
** He was almost exactly 30 years younger than my granddad

4 months

4 months?!? Already?
The Vitals:
14lbs 12oz
24.5 inches
She gained pounds, but not any length. Let's hope that she enlongens out soon.

Highlights:
Bagels came to visit! It was wonderful! Just wonderful.
I invited the internet to my living room--and they came!
She had her first pool party, with many other babies. I have some super cute pictures, but they're on my camera, not my phone, and that camera seems to be missing in action (which means I don't know where I put it when I put it "away")

Skills:
Rolling over--both ways, but she hasn't figured out that she can do both at the same time and GO places
Napping--she's not a pro yet, but she can do it. Somewhat reliably. Sometimes. She can soothe herself to sleep, which I think is the greatest thing ever
Thumb-sucking
Shoving things in her mouth
Grabbing things, like her toes!

Works in progress:
Holding things. She can get them, but she has a hard time KEEPING the things that she's gotten. Except my hair. That she holds on to JUST FINE, thankyouverymuch.
Sitting up. Oh, she wants to sit up ALL THE TIME and needs just the littlest bit of steadying to do so.

She likes:
Sitting up
Her toes
Fabric--give her a burp cloth, a blanket, her dress and she is happy as a clam! 
Watching the fishes at the Boswell Sr. house (pictured here with my mom)

She dislikes:
...not a whole lot these days. She's generally happy except when tired, so I guess there's that

I like:
Her babbling. She talks and talks and talks.
She wakes up happy with this silly morning grin that just makes my whole morning better (sappy, but true)
Her fuzzy head (which has significantly less cradle cap now!)



I dislike:
This sleep regression thing. Waking up (happy! Babbling!) Every 3 hours is so 2 months ago! But, she mostly puts herself to sleep after eating, so that's good.

All in all, not too shabby. A good month!

And then there were three

I don't want to write this post. I want it to exist, but I don't want to write it.

Last Thursday, July 26th, I was telling the ladies of my mom's group how lucky I was to have all four of my grandparents. 70 years of marriage on my mom's side, 66 years on my dad's side. Add to that the 43 years of my folks marriage and I have an incredible wealth of experience to call on about marriage and family.

My granddad was a neat old man. John Haworth, but everybody called him Howie. Well, I called him Granddad, but you know what I mean. I think he was the second or third generation named John who went by his middle name. My Uncle Mike is really John Michael, and his son is John Paul...but we call him Buddy. I'm getting off topic.

Granddad liked rocks. For my birthday one year, he mounted a piece of peacocke ore in a hexagon frame. Peacock ore looks like an oil slick made solid, all purples, blues, greens and golds. Purple has been my favorite color since I could pick it out of a line up, though I called it purkle for longer than anyone will let me live down. So, this rock...it was a perfect gift. He gave me the gift of purple in his own currency.

Some time after his 85th birthday, Granddad decided he needed a hobby. So, he took his love of rocks and decided to make jewelry. I have beautiful chunks of turquoise, malachite, lapis lazuli, tiger's eye, all polished up and mounted as earrings and necklaces. Each one has his initials and the year carved on the back.

Granddad liked prime rib, shrimp cocktail, the color orange, trains, coins, and photography. I remember so many evenings sitting around with the family while Granddad clicked through the latest set of slides, telling stories from around the world.

The first greek letters I knew were Alpha Chi Sigma, Granddad's fraternity of chemists. (The second set was Gamma Phi Beta, for my mom's sorority.) His Lincoln Towncar had a vanity plate up front with those letters. I thought it spelled AXE.

Last Friday, July 27th, Granddad said goodbye to this world. He gave us so much beauty and wisdom. I hope Jesus had a big pile of rocks waiting for him.