Laurel is changing so much everyday. She's definitely out of that newborn stage and is a fun and inquisitive baby. We went to the bookstore yesterday and the book sellers were all laughing about how much she seems to like to read. It's so amazing to me that four months ago she was inside of me! (Glad she came out then, and at that size. Haha!) She has recently discovered her toes, and anytime she gets her diaper changed, she makes an attempt to get them into her mouth. It's so interesting to get to know her...even though she can't speak yet, she is somehow able to communicate so much.
I'm a little sleep deprived, I'll admit. I have that glazed over new mom look. It's sort of like a cross between a hangover and someone who just woke up from a twenty year coma. I obsessively think about getting a full night's sleep. But I'm also at that place in chronic sleep deprivation where I have trouble falling asleep when I actually make it to my bed. So maybe that had something to do with the bizarre conversation I had with a stranger in the line at Barnes and Noble today.
Let me preface this by saying that Laurel often wears a fleece Penguins sleeper as a coat when we go out. It's kind of gold in color. It was one of the things that M couldn't resist buying for her when, in the early days of her life, he went out for toilet paper and tofu and came back with all kinds of other goodies. But I digress.
Stranger: My boy was like that. In the third percentile. They always put him with the girls.
Katy: Well, actually she is a girl. But yes, she's on the small size.
Stranger: You know what happened though? When he hit 13, he grew. All of a sudden.
Katy: Hmm, well maybe that will happen to her. But her father and I are both pretty small, so...
Stranger: Don't you worry. He'll catch up to the boys.
Katy: Um, ok. Thanks, I guess.
So, I finally get the pink thing. It's to help facilitate the social discourse of check out lines. A woman at the Co-op yesterday mistook Laurel for a boy, because she was wearing a blue hat. I corrected her, and then she felt the need to gush over how pretty she was, I think to overcompensate for her mistake.
Really, it didn't bother me.
It's almost as bad as the constant queries into our sleeping habits. Seriously. She's 3 months old. Some babies wake up at night to eat. It's completely developmentally appropriate. Sure, I'm tired of waking up every few hours, but I'm more tired of talking about it strangers.
(And yet, I can't seem to stop going to the bookstore to try just one more book by a sleep expert.)
Pittsburgh is melting. Big chunks of ice slide off the roof and crash to the ground, puddles of water collect around street corners where drains are still blocked by plowed snow. Every homeowner in the city is making it a nervous habit to check the ceilings around the eaves and the corners of the basement. Rain is headed our way and it's not going to be pretty.
We made the mistake of going to the Trader Joe's this afternoon, when all of suburban Pittsburgh seemed to have made it down to East Liberty to shop. You can always tell because people from the suburbs bring their whole families...men, grandmas, children of all ages. It's more of a tourist event than grocery shopping. I took Laurel because she usually falls asleep when we go out, but there was way too much action for her. And there was not a parking spot to be had in front of that store. We parked closer to the pet store, so M could take a peak at his favorite...the English bull dog. Although, we found the French bull dog to be awfully cute today.
Hopefully things will start to get back to normal around here. The sidewalks are still really icy, and I'm afraid somebody is going to get conked in the head by a giant icicle on our driveway. It's going to be either me or the mailman.
We had a nice weekend. My parents came down to babysit on Saturday and M and I went out and wandered around the South Side, enjoying the rare sunny afternoon. I found a pair of jeans at the Goodwill in exactly my size. We bought a pastry brush at Sur La Table.
This morning I went to the Friends' Meeting on Ellsworth, and M baked a loaf of bread that didn't work out as well as the amazing loaf he baked yesterday. Laurel peed and pooed on everything all morning and afternoon and I had to do more laundry. Laurel and M are on the couch right now...they both dozed off during a curling match on tv.
Our house is messy in the way that only a house with a new baby is. Unfolded laundry on the bed, baby toys scattered, and burp rags draped over the backs of chairs. M's work and my work stacked in piles in various locations around the house, where we started on some project or another, and then abandoned to change a diaper or rock the cradle. The days seem to pass very quickly and very slowly at the same time.
Last year at this time, I had just discovered that I was pregnant, and we were getting ready for a funeral. Life...coming and going, as is the nature of things.
I'm starting to go a little nuts here. Laurel and I went down to campus yesterday, in an attempt to resume our regular schedule. It took us almost 2 hours on the 71C to get there. Traffic on Penn Avenue was just inching along. Luckily Laurel took the opportunity to nap, but I didn't go in today. I didn't want to risk her needing to eat or get a diaper change en route. Not that I'm opposed to nursing in public, but when we're all bundled up on a crowded bus, I don't think it would work.
So here we are, sitting inside for yet another day. It would be difficult for us to walk down to Regent Square or Squirrel Hill because the side walks are in really bad shape. To go anywhere in a car would probably take forever on account of the traffic on Penn Avenue. I think we'll head over the Co-op in a little while.
Sorry for the graininess of this footage. The room was dark because this rolling event occurred during our "quieting down" time of the evening. Not that she's all that quiet here.
I can't believe it is snowing again. Snow is pretty and all, but the city is clearly not equipped to handle it, and I am tired of being at home all the time. We ventured out today, but I worry about her getting too cold, or getting stuck in the snow.
When I was picking out baby gear before Laurel came, I opted for a convertible car seat. This is the kind that stays in the car...not the "baby bucket" kind. I reasoned that it was a better buy, since a) I don't drive all that much and b) Laurel would fit in it for years to come. And until recently, I was perfectly happy tooling around town on foot and by bus and the Moby Wrap or the Baby Bjorn are perfect for that. We actually ended up getting a used "baby bucket" style car seat from one of Mark's co-workers, along with the stroller that it snaps into. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out how to install it in my car, so I basically just used it as a place for Laurel to sit, in the kitchen. But then, Sarah enlightened me to an alternate way to install it using seat belts, instead of the LATCH system. I looked up the directions on the internet, and it seems safe enough, so I started using it. Baby gear is so complicated.
I was drawn to the idea of being able to set Laurel down when I went out...without disrupting her naps when I ran errands by car. (I've become a bit nap obsessed, because I am convinced that this is they key to good night time sleep.) We went out to dinner the other night, and it was really great to be able to sit her down while we ate, without dropping crumbs all over her head. However, today I was reminded of the reason I didn't want the baby bucket...they are really dang heavy! Good enough for suburban life where you always park near where you are going. Not so good when you are circling Squirrel Hill, looking for a parking spot in a snow storm, when half the spots in the neighborhood are buried in eight feet of plowed snow, and you have to park 4 blocks away from where you are headed. So, I staggered down the icy sidewalk, Laurel swinging wildly from side to side as I attempted to walk while not hitting myself in the leg with the car seat.
But I was reminded of the merits of the baby bucket when I went to the Coffee Tree and was able to set a sleeping Laurel right next to my table while I enjoyed a soy latte and met an interesting old man named Elmer, whom I shared a table with in the crowded coffee shop. He entertained me with stories of his world travels while Laurel dozed at our feet. Elmer was taking a much needed break from his wife, who has dementia, and the look in his eyes reminded me very much of how my grandmother looked when she was taking care of my grandfather.
Elmer's first words to me were, don't you have wheels for that thing? Which of course, I do, but I left that part at home because I figured a stroller wouldn't be much use on the snowy sidewalks. And how much baby equipment do I really want to haul around? Elmer's last words to me were, you better tell your husband about me, you don't someone else to tell him they saw you out with another man. Very funny, Elmer!
Anyway, it got me to thinking about the baby gear we thought we would need, versus what we have actually found useful. It seems with baby gear, everything seems useful, at least for a short amount of time. But one could probably get by without most of it. I was thinking I should write a review of our gear, if for nothing else, my own reference should there ever be a sibling for Laurel. I have a feeling the sleep deprivation is going to erase my memory of this time of my life.
I also wish there was a way to ask Laurel about some of it. Say, Laurel, do you prefer cotton or fleece sleepers? Is your crib mattress comfortable? Do you feel squished or cold in the baby bucket? But what would she really tell me, even if she could talk? The uterus is basically a hot tub with constant nourishment and soothing ambient noise. Other than the lack of space, I think she would probably tell me that nothing is as comfortable as floating naked in warm amniotic fluid.
The snow continues to fall, and I am waiting until Laurel falls asleep so I can dash outside and throw some salt down. M won't be home from class until very late tonight, and there may be 6 more inches by then.
I will leave you with something that will surely put a smile on your face, a video of Laurel performing her latest talent...yelling.
We're spending a lazy Saturday afternoon lounging around the house recovering from M's birthday party last night (which was awesome and thanks for coming!). My sister is leaving in a few hours, so we're hanging out with her and my dad before they head off to the airport. It's still snowing, although not really sticking, and there just don't seem to be any good reasons to plan to leave the house today. Laurel is practicing her yelling voice, which is still cute and funny.
Just kidding, M. You have a youthful quality about you that chronological age cannot erase.
I'm sitting here right now, watching Laurel tug on your beard while you smile at each other. I'm pretty sure her grunts and squeals are her way of saying, Happy Birthday, Dad, I love you!
The 20s were pretty rockin'. I have a feeling that our 30s will bring a new set of adventures.
Laurel is changing so much everyday. She's definitely out of that newborn stage and is a fun and inquisitive baby. We went to the bookstore yesterday and the book sellers were all laughing about how much she seems to like to read. It's so amazing to me that four months ago she was inside of me! (Glad she came out then, and at that size. Haha!) She has recently discovered her toes, and anytime she gets her diaper changed, she makes an attempt to get them into her mouth. It's so interesting to get to know her...even though she can't speak yet, she is somehow able to communicate so much.
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