Time is just cruising along, isn't it?

The Animalia has started to be particular with who's holding her. She makes concerned faces whenever she's not with me, her Da, her nana or her big potato (tata). She doesn't seem to like people wearing hats or sunglasses. Our old dog Christmas was like that, but he was racist as well, so let's not compare the two.

The last couple of days she's started to make raspberry sounds. This involves lots of spit on her part and laughter on ours. I actually think she's mimicking her farts. Seriously. She makes the sound with her butt then makes it with her mouth. My daughter is pretty talented, no? The nicest thing is that lately, whenever I see her on my lunch break, she smiles and gets all wiggly and giggly the second she sees me. She must love me after all.

Oh, and we're getting her ready for baptism at the end of February. I think it's culturally important that she's Catholic and am seriously considering actually joining a parish. I think I'll be nice enough to let her decide on God when she's ready though.

And before I forget, here's a little story from before she was born (boymagnet thought I should write it down before I forgot it):
During one of my biweekly visits to Target (that's right, I seem to shop there that much), my mom and I saw the Baby Abuelita doll. It's the most hilarious doll. It's basically a Mexican grandmother (or Latino or whatever) who sings all these songs in Spanish. So my mom says that we should get one for the Animalia, because we don't have any Nanas in our family. I tell her that she's going to be the nana now. And she's like, oh my god, that's right! I think it loses something in the telling but if you knew my mom...

Yet more proof that my daughter is brilliant

OK, so she'd been kind of trying to hold her bottle on her own but hadn't quite mastered it yet. This time, she got it down. Unfortunately, I wasn't there to see it in person. She was with her Da and I was at work. He called me and I got all mushy and excited and giggly.

According to Jimmy, she held the bottle pretty well for awhile, then it slipped out of her mouth and she just kept trying to put it back until she got it and finished her milk.

Look at the expression on her face. I can just imagine what she's thinking. "Look at me, feeding myself like a big girl. I don't need you anymore mamá. I can feed myself as long as you keep pumping."

God, I love her!!!

I'm so complicated

A note about THIS POST, which was a note about A DIFFERENT POST:

Yes, I realize that the Animalia doesn't speak anything yet. She's only 4 months old. Sheesh. Pressure.

A note about my previous post

The Animalia speaks mostly Spanish with a little English thrown in here and there. One day she'll speak Spanglish like me and then I'll really be embarassed.

So one day she'll know how to say this when her Da tries to lecture her about something:
"Papi, favor de hablar conmigo en Español. No entiendo Inglés." (Daddy, please speak with me in Spanish, I don't understand English.)

I'll laugh and Jimmy will be mad.

ay de mi

It's so hard to leave the Animalia at my mom's house. Just hard.

I saw her at lunchtime and tried to nurse her and she seemed hungry but didn't really want to eat much. She wanted to chat. I imagine that she was telling me about her day so far. It was so great. Then I ate lunch and she lunged at my food. She's getting interested in big people food now. I tried to nurse her again and she latched on and ate and ate and ate until her belly was hard and full. And then she dozed off. She kind of yelled at me when I picked her up. She wanted to cuddle and sleep and eat and just hang out and I had to come back to work.

I miss her when I'm here. I feel like I should be with her, staring at her, watching her do the entertaining things that she does.

Lame.

On a lighter note, here's the conversation I imagined this morning:
Animalia (dressed as a hobo): Mamá?
Me: Yes, baby?
Hobo Animalia: Why do you have to go to work? Why can't you just stay with me?
Me: Baby girl, I have to work so that you have a house to live in and food to eat and a nice car to cruise around in.
Hobo Animalia: Mamá, no necesito esas cosas. (I don't need those things). ¿No me dijiste que me veo tan curiosa vestida como vagabunda? (Didn't you tell me that I look so cute dressed as a hobo?)
Me: Yes, Animalia. You DO look cute dressed as a hobo. But real life hobos aren't cute.
Hobo Animalia: Oh. Really?
Me: Yes, Animalia. Really.

milking myself is such a drag

I go to the bathroom during my break. Lock myself in the handicap stall. Hear other people peeing or having the occasional bout of diarrhea or gas. Each time, I wonder what they think of my sounds and that person with a bag that's locked in the handicap, standing there, boots facing the wall. It's really just a lovely process. Sometimes I have to force myself to do it. I have to think about it, check myself out. Am I hard as a rock? Can I go a little more time before continuing the slow process of tendonitis with my $35 manual pump? How much milk do I have stored? Do I have to?

I actually like breastfeeding the Animalia. That's right, I'm a dirty hippie earth mother type deep down inside. I just feel such a sense of accomplishment. Yesterday, when siyeh commented on how sturdy she felt I did a little dance inside. It's kind of nice to be able to think "yeah, I did that. She's all huge because of me and ridiculously large chest."

dirty words

I HATE THE "WORD" VAJAYJAY.

Yeah, that stupid word that people say instead of saying vagina. Vajayjay. What the hell is that?! Vagina is not a dirty word.

Conversation that ties this in with Mi Animalia and why this is appropriate here:
Me (during diaper change): She's looking a little red down there. What do you think?
Jimmy: On her stuff?
Me: At least you said stuff and not vajayjay.

Then I start ranting about vajayjay. I don't remember what I said exactly but I just couldn't stop.

Me: Fuck it. I'm just going to get really offensive and start calling it her meat curtains.
Jimmy: That's my daughter you're talking about. Please don't.
Me: What about tiny giny? It's appropriate. I mean, she's a baby so...
Jimmy: Just don't. "Stuff" is fine.

Things that my ever-so-gifted Animalia can do at 15 weeks (almost 4 months! holy shit!):
Drool a whole lot, smile, laugh, squeak, chirp, shriek happily, hold her head up high, sit up with help from pillows or hands, respond to us making faces at her, grab things, keep herself occupied for small periods of time, pull on things that make noise, press buttons that make noise, roll over from her back and from her tummy. She tries to lift herself up sometimes when she's laying down. She tries to crawl during tummy time (escape! escape!). She likes to be naked and makes happy sounds during diaper changes, then struggles when we're putting on the diaper. She's starting to play in the bath but she really didn't like bathing before. She's becoming more tolerant of clothing changes though still not a fan, I think this is related to her loving the nakedness. She sleeps through the night and I'm starting to be able to take a shower and get ready for the day while she sleeps in a little. Oh yeah, she loves books or anything with words on it.

Her tiny body isn't so tiny anymore, she's wearing a size 3-6 months, well, sort of. She's kind of skinny and if she weren't so long some of her 0-3 month clothes would still fit her. Her fingernails grow like crazy and I have to cut them every other day because she's always scratching her face. She only poops every few days. She has tiny nightmares sometimes and her face contorts like she's about to cry in her sleep, sometimes she wakes herself up in tears, sometimes she struggles through it and stays asleep. She notices the dog regularly now, she's still puzzled by him.

She loves TV. Not that we let her watch it but if it's on she'll crane her neck to be able to see it. She gets mad when we turn her head back toward us.

She likes to suck on socks.

She's showing an interested in what we eat.

She laughs whenever she sees me topless.

She makes herself fart by wiggling her legs and bending at the waist as well as she can.

She likes to stand when she's being held and will jump and try to take steps.

She just keeps getting bigger.

Reassuring myself

I think I'm a good mom. I have guilt at appropriate moments. I haven't shaken the baby. I chat with her, read to her, and show her fun things. Only rarely do I avoid the duties of motherhood and only then when I know she's being taken good care of. Like yesterday when I had to stop at Target anyway and kind of spent a little more time than I needed to, just aimlessly wandering, spending a few precious moments alone. And that's when the guilt came in. But I was doing something for the baby, right? Actually, I was doing two things for Animalia. I was a) buying diapers and b) taking a breath before diving back in for the evening. I swear that baby makes me tired. So there. I've confirmed it for myself. I'm a good mom. Phew.

The Animalia was half awake and hungry at about 6am this morning. When I say half awake, I mean making lots of sounds and making sucking noises without opening her eyes. And then the dog started crying. I decided to let the dog out before starting to feed Animalia. By the time I got back, all of 30 seconds, she had somehow rolled from one end of my bed to the other. She wasn't really rolling. She was searching for her "breast friend" and throwing herself forward, eyes closed, to find it.

Jekyll and Hyde

Yesterday, amid much screaming, my parents took the Animalia to the doctor. When the doctor walked into the room, she turned on the charm. This isn't the first time she's done this and I'm not sure how she knows that someone is evaluating her. The last time we were there it was the same: screaming, fussiness, then giggling and charm when the doctor walked in the room. She knows when someone is judging her I guess.

So the diagnosis is a terrible cold coupled with an increase in acid reflux, probably brought on by drainage from the cold and the lots and lots of saline drops we've been stuffing in her nose. She lost 2oz from the last appointment because she's been struggling to eat. I felt really bad about that. Poor thing.

Today has been a much better day for my parents though. Thank god.

today she's not hilarious

Today, Mi Animalia is apparently not as hilarious as usual. I've only experienced a few minutes of the horror that is her because I've been at work all day. I can only recount what my parents have told me. She's congested. She won't eat. She cries constantly. She's tired. So she's going to the doctor this afternoon. All of these things are very uncharacteristic of her as I was blessed with the baby nature thought I could handle: good humored, relaxed, very clear in her needs. I feel sorry for my parents.

It was the exact same thing at home without me on Saturday, only again, it wasn't with me. She was with her dad all day long, terrorizing him. He even brought her to me so that I could nurse her and put her to sleep on my break. He was so tired when I got home he looked like he was going to cry. I'm not sure why but it made me want to do an obnoxious football-style touchdown dance. Before that day, dad seemed to think that maternity leave was some kind of nice, semi-paid vacation. We'd had a deal about that... he could sleep at night and go to work and I'd live in the living room and take care of the animal. It was just as well. He doesn't wake up at night NO MATTER WHAT and he'd give me a break to shower and eat when he'd get home in the afternoon. He'd get home and look at the disaster that was the house, dishes in the sink, laundry piled up (clean and dirty, different locations), me still in my pajamas and the baby in a onesie asleep on the Boppy, dinner not even close to being made.

The first time he had her alone all day, she was her typical lovely self, quiet, observant. Nice. He kind of rubbed it in, telling me all HE'D been able to do while I was gone. He decided that he could be a house husband. I guess he'd started to doubt my exhausted tales of her first couple of months.

After Saturday though, he's changed his mind. To which I say "UH! IN YOUR FACE!"

I'm a terrible mother, friend and Christmas card sender

My baby girl is three and a half months old and her baby book is still almost completely blank. Strike that-- I have three baby books at home and one pregnancy journal. Blank. Blank. Blank. Blank. I'm a terrible mother. So I decided to start this blog. Now that I'm back to work full time, I'm more likely to sit down at a computer than I am to sit down with a baby book and a pen. In our house, pens are few and far between. This is going to be all about Mi Animalia.