This isn't a real post. I promise there's one out there that's coming. Until then, there are just two things I had to share.
1 - You know it's time to shave when you are laying (lying? this is one grammar rule I never got a handle on - don't worry I know everything else about grammar) in bed with your almost-one-year-old (good heck, how did she get that old that fast?) with your arms behind your head and she reaches up and pets your armpit as though it were one of her "touch and feel" board books.
2 - I really liked this picture/quote, so I thought I'd share (it's sort of been a theme in my life lately):
Conclusion: Laughter is real, real good for the soul.
You know it's quite a day when I take pictures of Bean both because she's so cute when she's actually in clothes at home (let's be honest, that hardly ever happens, the being clothed part, not the being cute part):
Yes, I am starting Bean out with a chore list. Sweeping everything in her reach is her daily job. She's still learning, but I think it's best to start early.
and because she's so cute when she's hanging out naked (she's had a bit of a chappy bum, and there's no better cure than simple fresh air, right?):
We're bad parents. I'm coming to terms with that. But at least we're not terrible parents. We're good about some things. I still won't give Bean cookies. They're pure sugar, right? But somehow we've decided it's ok to give her ice cream.
And she loves it. Surprising, I know. I've never really cared for the stuff myself (lies, all lies). It's rare, though. She mostly eats fruit and veggies with varied protein sources. It works out in the end. I think she'll make it. Sure hope so. I really like this kid. I'd like to keep her.
Conclusion: Moderation in all things includes ice cream, for sure. And good parenting is for people without an imagination.
Bean has recently had her first experience sitting outside. We don't have a lawn, but there is moss on the sidewalk, so it's pretty much the same thing.
I took her outside with me while I put laundry on the line. She wasn't too sure of it at first, but seemed ok when I distracted her with a leaf from the ground nearby.
Conclusion: Outside time is golden, but we look forward to lawn.
You probably guessed that Bean is eating solid foods by now. What you may not know is the journey she has taken to get here. LONG ago (ok, so in the past year, but it feels like forever), I read a blog post about a woman who, instead of going through the "rice cereal, then purees, then finger foods" process, just gave her baby a piece of green pepper when he wanted it and went from there, with the baby eating real food along with the family the whole time. "I'm totally going to do that," I said to me. I still bought some spoons and purees of foods not available here on the island (which I know doesn't make sense if my plan was to avoid purees), but I was fully intending to go with her philosophy, because it made sense to me. She mentioned a book "Baby-Led Weaning," but books are hard to come by here and it seemed silly to send it when we're only here for such a short while, so I was sure I could go it alone. I was wrong.
The first food I offered Bean was mango, which seemed a delightful option to me. It was very slippery and, while she seemed to enjoy the flavor, she could not get a hold of it to eat it no matter what she tried. It was a mess. So I mashed it and fed it to her with a spoon. Then I did the same with bananas. And then I blended up some green beans (Bean eating beans - classic, right?) and some spinach with pumpkin. And all of a sudden, I was all caught up in spoon-feeding my baby all kinds of purees - exactly what I didn't want to do. I even fed her a jar of store-bought sweet potatoes. Sigh. ;) We tried rice cereal, but for some reason she was zero interested in its blandness.
Enter my birthday. My sweet mom sent me the book. I devoured it. I ceased and desisted with the purees. I gave her finger-shaped and sized bits of food and watched her go for it. She LOVED it.
Here's a video of her, just a couple weeks into her "learning to eat solid food" process:
She now eats all kinds of food, and she's getting all kinds of fast and efficient. She has also made some glorious messes. I love watching her explore food this way. She has become a first-rate beggar, too. Anytime there is food being eaten anywhere in the house, she gets very quiet and alert, like a predator sneaking up on an innocent . . . small helpless thing. She watches us every moment there is any kind of food in our hands. She smacks her lips. And if the food is not offered to her in a prompt manner, she gets the most sad/demanding look on her face that you can imagine. It awesome/frustrating. It has cut down on my open cookie intake (of course the hidden cookie intake remains intact).
Even without teeth (still, not a single one), she is a force of nature. Bananas? Easy. Gone in mere moments. Melon? That's a snap. Broccoli? A little more challenging, but still delicious and worth the effort. Star fruit is a new favorite. Crackers and cheese and ham and chicken and pasta and all kinds of delicious things are all a part of this new life. It has definitely made me more aware of my own dietary habits, this sharing with a tiny person. It's friggin' awesome. Here, I'll show you:
We quickly learned that bibs are over-rated.
But avocado is not.
It's important to have vision and determination.
Only suckers need teeth to eat apples.
Spoons are harder than they look.
And yes, you can get awesome fat rolls from eating prunes.
We are pretty excited to see how much she will enjoy teeth. Just think of the things she'll be able to do. I mean, if she can eat pizza now (yes, yes she can), steak isn't that far off, right? Also, we look forward to getting to Utah in the season of corn on the cob - oh, how I'm sure she'll love it.
Conclusion: Independence begins early in this house. Happy Independence Day, all.
Last night as I got into bed, I noticed the moon glowing so-brightly-it-was-almost-eery through our window, and I commented on said glowing to Wonderman. His response:
"Yeah, I was just thinking that tonight we'll find out if Bean is really a werewolf."
A pause of bemused silence lay pregnant between us.
"It would be cute, but terrifying," he said.
It would indeed.
Conclusion: She's probably not a monster, but she's bound to be funny with genes like his.
It's true, I totally put in a gratuitous Bean-shot. It's to show off her good genes and to celebrate that we now have a camera and to show that she has enough hair for little clips (they are mine from back in the day right after I was bald, remember?). Hooray!
At least once a day, Bean and I look in the mirror and I say some version of this: "Do you see the baby in the mirror? Look at the baby in the mirror. That's such a cute baby in the mirror, huh? Can you say 'hi' to the baby in the mirror?" After repeating the phrase "baby in the mirror" that many times, about 98% of the time I end up with the chorus from this song in my head:
It's not a bad song. In fact, it's kind of a good song. It's inspiring and all. I still don't love having it in my head all day, every day. I'm not exactly sure how to acquaint Bean with her mirror self without getting it in my head, however. And so it continues.
Bean has grown enough to fit and fill her Bean Ts that my sister made. It's a pretty adorable combination, if I do say so myself.
I had to post so many pictures for two reasons. 1 - They're too adorable to choose just one. 2 - These are the last pictures that got taken before my camera broke and so may be the last pictures of Bean or of anything for quite a while. Sigh. So, now my posts will just be silly rants and descriptions and no cute pictures. Like, I have more to say about cloth diapers. I'll say it soon, but when it's not accompanied by a photo of a sweet baby with cloth on her bum it's not nearly as appealing. Alas, it is all I can do.
Have I ever told you how . . . um . . . active Bean is? She is always moving. The bigger she gets, the harder she is to hold on to. Especially since with bigger comes stronger. Bath time wrangling has become a serious sport.
Strangely, so has nursing. Sometimes she is calm and it is the sweet, quiet, relaxing time that you read about, well, I don't know where. I've read about it on a whole variety of blogs. There's probably books and stuff that talk about it, too. Maybe reading about breastfeeding isn't really all that common. It has become so for me. Anyway, sometimes it's all sweet like that. Other times it's an adventure. She talks and growls while she eats. She flaps her available arm and leg about (This is one reason that covers and I are not friends. The waving material acts like a flag and actually draws more attention to us. Bean has yet to comprehend modesty and discretion). Often it's not her flapping limbs about, but using them to try to climb up me. She's even hit my collarbone with such force that's she's bruised me (just barely and just once, but still)!
Also, notice the gripping of the shirt. That is the hand Wonderman and I used to call "The Modesty Hand" because she would put it up over her face while she ate, which also covered up any part of me that could possibly be showing. Now it gets called "The Immodesty Hand" because she uses it to grab my shirt and pull it as far out and down as she can.
Not related to wrangling of any kind, I would just like to make sure you notice the awesome difference in skin color between the two of us. I know she's mine because I was there when I birthed her, but she isn't quite as obviously (to the untrained eye) mine as she is her father's. When I had my hair in braids, a friend of mine described my appearance as "ethnically vague." As much as I identify myself as "white," Bean and I definitely appear to be of not entirely the same ethnicity. Weird.
Conclusion: True love is much more than skin deep.
A mix of flavors, all of them summing up to a default housewife (but not yet a home-maker), grammar nazi, and generally friendly baker of cookies. And now momma.
