7 Months Old!

Well, we're one day past the half year mark and so Edie is officially into month seven of her baby regime. Her one little lady government rules with a tiny iron fist and her propaganda campaign of smiles and snuggles have left us thinking that this is the life we wanted anyhow. Here are a few updates:

1) Edie getting all international. Before this month she'd met German and American babies. But now that she's befriended some Australians, I think E's officially become a global tot. Will and I had fun with the Aussies as well, and I managed to only geek-out once about how cool I thought marsupials were. Imagine, a country full of evolution's "try again" pile! And they're cute!

2) We survived the Saga of the Missing Mom. Five days away from my kiddo was rough. But rougher on me than her. Up until my departure, we'd tried a once per week Daddy-as-Mommy trial when my nagging self would leave the house to eliminate the chance for hen-peckery and Will would do the bedtime thing. It did not go well. Not once in the six weeks we attempted it did she do anything but lose her little mind. One day after my departure, however, duly convinced I was gone forever, Edie was an angel for her Dad. I recommended that Will at least gaze longingly at a photo of me for five or ten minutes in Edie's presence so that no one lost sight of what was what. Alas, he did not, and though it made me feel a tiny bit fungible, I was overwhelmingly relieved and happy that those two had such a great week.

Interesting update, a week after I'd returned, we decided to let Dad put E down so I could go to yoga class. Verdict: if I am in Munich, Edie knows. And while I am in her jurisdiction, I'd best be in that rocking chair come bedtime.

3) Sitting up unassisted: check back next month. She's almost there!

4) Toes are the new thumbs!

Edie has been sucking her thumb for awhile now, and has recently discovered that her plump big toes offer an amusing and delightful change of pace for her self-soothing needs.

Hummingbird Baby. Or Ninja Baby. Take your pick.

Here's a collection of just a sample of the photos that Edie has rendered blurry with her wild arm pumping. She moves awfully fast, so you've got to be vigilant with your eye protection maneuvers. And I have to trim her nails every chance I get otherwise those things are like cute, chubby throwing stars.

This is America

E and I met some ladies at a coffee shop the other day for a beverage and a chat. I'd never been to this one before and apparently it's a sort of American novelty cafe. They had the pictured display of foods from the U.S. of A. that were for sale for an outrageously inflated price. First of all, we really aren't known for the finest cuisine. Second, I really wanted some Cheerios. My pride and pocketbook held me back this time. Next time, perhaps.

Edie the Dominator

E's finally gotten to the age where she's finding other babies interesting and is trying to interact with them. Her social repetoire, however, is limited and potentially off-putting. Phase One of Edie's baby flirting is trying to tear off an ear or stick the other baby's head in her mouth. Phase Two, shriek in the baby's face. And, as seen in the final photo, apparently Phase Three is riding the baby with great flourish.

What's Your Success Ball?

Munich opened up a Gymboree last year and this past Friday we made our debut. Will even went to work (really, really) late to witness what was sure to become our latest financial burden. After a rocky start of arriving late, Edie eating her name badge, and me not seeing the sign that everyone must wear socks until I'd been smearing around my bare un-pedicured feet like a feral ape-woman for forty minutes, we had some fun.

In the class - Play & Learn 2, if you must know - a teacher organizes some opening and closing activities for the whole group, and in the middle goes around and tries to facilitate fulearning. That's "fun" + "learning." All right, I made that up. But we were schooled in a variety of ways to play better. For example, we were shown that Edie - not-yet-crawling mouth breather that she is - apparently feels successful when she plays with whiffle balls because they don't roll away from her. "See how successful she feels?" the Gymboree instructor asked. I quickly answered in the affirmative because it really seemed like the thing to do. While I quickly eschewed the advice on how to help her crawl, I did like what we have deemed Edie's Success Balls, so we fell right into their clever trap and bought three.

We're trying to incorporate Gymboree wisdom into our own lives now. (At 75 euros a month, it needs to enrich more lives than one.) So when we've got a daunting task, we try to tackle a doable part, and that's our Success Ball. The entire apartment's a mess? Well, I have time to clean the bathroom. Success Ball! No groceries in the house and no energy to cook? Buy some falafels. Success Ball!

Back to Gymboree tomorrow, and hopefully more corporate gospel from it to come.

Pitiful Pound Puppy

Our littlest dog, Sugar, can be quite a sad little creature. She was a stray that ended up at the pound in Hamtramck, riddled with kennel cough, filth, and a gaping love deficiency. The latter issue has not been, and can never be, resolved. Sugar can not be loved enough to keep her from trembling when you tell her to stop jumping in your face, or cowering if you open a door too quickly in her general vicinity. Up until E was born, she spent a great deal of her life in Will's lap, basking in his affection.

Will and I discovered some time ago that when Sugar gets particularly emotional, she coos a bit if you give her an intense snuggle. It would often happen if we'd been away. Will would scoop her up, hug her close, and she'd make these great gurgling noises. So of course we wanted more. We wanted a singing dog. And we tried for awhile, to no avail.

Until now. The combination of her demoted status due to the baby, coupled with a week at a dog sitter's while I was in the U.S. brought on the first, and perhaps only, Sugar singing solo. And Praise Be to Steve Jobs, it was captured by my iPhone.

Will's Corner: Nobody here but us chickens...

Rachael's trip to the Gretchen's wedding meant that E and I got to spend some quality time together (sans dogs, too). We had a great time. The bad weather got in the way of my dream of going to the local biergarten for lunch every day with our matching Pint/Half Pint shirts (see this post) and E gnawing on a soft pretzel, so we went swimming, met up with Sarah and Will, and mostly just stayed home all day and played (E's favorite kind of day).

Baby Led Weaning: Isn't it time your baby was less hassle?

When my pediatrician first brought up solids for Edie a few months back, I was shocked. It seemed so early. The few sparks of motherly instinct in me just didn't buy that it was time yet. So, I went about learning more about the topic right away. First I came to discover that Germans typically start babies on solids well before the age currently recommended by the American Academy of Pediatrics. That bought me some time, and time for me = copious baby research and endless conversations with Will that start with "Did you know...?" And by conversations I mean me spewing facts and him saying "Huh," "Okay" or "Really?" in as interested a tone as he can muster.

I ended up getting drawn by the idea of baby led weaning, which is a yuppified way of saying letting your baby eat on her own basically whatever you eat. I can't say that the simplicity of it wasn't a big draw. No purees, no spoon feeding, no sweet potatoes for five days, then avocados for another five. See, as a breastfeeding mom, I've never packed a bottle, counted ounces, or otherwise prepared for my daughter's sustenance other than by just showing up. And this level of planning has been right up my alley. I like to think that helping E love food was a bigger purpose, though. As a kid, food was my battleground. I was endlessly picky and ruthlessly stubborn about it. So it appealed to me to approach food with my daughter in an easy-going and exploratory way. And never planning her meals is a suh-weet bonus.

In the past few weeks, we've begun to offer Edie food. So far, de-salted soft pretzels, spoonfuls of oatmeal, watermelon, yogurt, rasberries, and banana flapjacks have all been on the menu. Her evolution from indifferent to connoisseur has been magical and messy. She is enjoying it immensely. And the dogs have begun circling her highchair like sharks, Billy today ending up with a bright red poodle 'fro from E's berry laden fingers.

Enjoy the pics and video of our self-feeding babe! Now if I can just figure out how to teach her to do her own laundry.....

Back to Life, Back to No-Shopping-Sunday Reality

I recently returned from my whirlwind solo-trip back to the U.S. for my little sister's wedding. The trek there involved waking up at 3 a.m., showering and a little crying, waking my baby to feed her then putting her down and some more crying, and finally boarding a 7 a.m. plane to Amsterdam, followed by an 11 a.m. flight to Detroit. Splice in spending just gobs more time than anyone should in the airplane bathroom to pump breast milk followed by renting a car that seemingly weighed less than I do for a 200+ mile drive, and then I'd arrived. It was well worth it.

The bride was radiant, and family and friends abounded. And there were just enough wedding snafus to keep life interesting. Flower-lady extortion, one whodunnit, a rogue disc jockey (oh, Johnny. No one can can put a leash on you.), and a wedding shower held in a room called the "Adult Lounge" (not as sexy as it sounds, but let's pretend it was). It was a fantastic weekend that none of the guests will soon forget.

After the wedding, my cousin and I stopped at Birch Run Outlets to go shopping. Germany is not a place to shop, unless you hate money and love to see it go. My Icelandic cousin had even more to gain by the savings. I think I saw those cartoony dollar signs flash in her eyes a couple times. As we were pulling in she said "How late do you think it will be open on a Sunday?" I sighed contentedly and answered "Oh, plenty late." And then I hummed My Country 'Tis of Thee while I ordered from a Starbucks in English.

I only had a few hours on Monday before I headed to the dentist and then the airport for my return home. Just enough time to see a few of my favorite things, including my friend Jen, the Natural Food Patch health store, and Pinwheel Bakery (vegan cookies... omg so good), all pictured above. After my teeth cleaning, which I begged and pleaded to schedule since I am petrified of any dentist but my own, I dropped off my tin can of a rental and headed home. Suffering only a minor psychological meltdown when my flight was delayed in Amsterdam, I eventually arrived home on Tuesday with plenty of time to see little e and even try on her new Icelandic galoshes. The trip didn't exactly quell my homesickness, but seeing your baby after a week away makes you forget such cares really quickly.

Smiles courtesy of a brave, creative mom (not me. not even close to me.)

Well, this Thursday, at 5 a.m., I take off for a whirlwind 5 day trip to the United States for my sister's wedding. I am thrilled to be seeing my family, to celebrate this incredible event, and to eat at least three burritos. But my heart breaks a bit because my little e is not joining me. It was a difficult decision to make - to leave her here and go alone - and while I'm confident that it was the right one for us, I can't say I'm too cheerful about it.

I came across this blog a couple days ago and it made me smile. Today when I wasn't feeling too hot about saying goodbye to my babycakes, I checked it out again. Now, I cannot relate to its contents at all. When Edie was this little, once she was finally asleep I spent my time showering, praying she would stay asleep, and, if at all possible, sleeping myself. This brave soul of a mom has a tremendous sleeper and boundless creativity, so she makes these dreamscapes and then moves her daughter into the frame while she's sleeping for just a moment, gets her shot, and then pops her daughter back into her sleeping receptacle. Even those of you with the blackest, stoniest of hearts have to admit that this is cute.

Family - I am so looking forward to seeing you all! Friends - I wish I was going to be there long enough to see some of you. Not this time, alas. Please keep in touch! And any parents - please feel free to send me encouraging messages about how my baby won't forget me, she won't refuse to nurse when I return, I'm not setting her up for years of therapy, etc. Oh, but do spare the "Wow. I could never do that! This must be so hard for you!" I'm a little tender for that right now.

On the bright side, Will has promised to blog at least once about his full time daddy adventures!