Baby Mobile
It's July 10th and Eliza's officially mobile. She's been flirting with crawling for weeks, on all fours with her little butt in the air, rocking away. About two weeks ago she made the move forward with her legs and I thought that was it. However, she didn't seem to know what to do with her hands so she'd move about an inch or so, then fall, get frustrated and look up at me with an expression of such pain I felt compelled to pick her up. Most of the time. Okay some of the time. Other times I left her there, hoping she'd get back up and try again. More often than not, she'd become distracted by a nearby magazine page or leg of furniture and that would lead to several minutes of grab and mouth.
Yesterday, a Sunday, exactly two weeks after her precrawling incident, Eliza crawled from the middle of the rug to greet me here at the computer. Covering a distance of about six feet, Eliza grabbed my foot, swatted at it a bit, then made the move for a portable file holder I have stashed under the desk. This file folder sports an enticing, shiny metal bar and Eliza couldn't resist grabbing the holder and pulling it towards herself repeatedly. Fearing birth certificates, bank statements and passports all over the floor I had to forfeit my place at the computer and sweep her into my arms with joy.
I started crawling at five and a half months so Eliza's two months behind me in this game. But right on the Murphy's Law schedule of parenting. Eliza will suffer her first long flight this week and her newfound mobility will probably be further cause to propel herself off the lap of whoever holds her through the seven or eight or who knows with the time change flight to Amsterdam. Last week I took a short hour and a half long bus ride with Eliza that felt kind of like my version of "No Exit." Eliza slept peacefully in her sling for about a half hour, then woke up and immediately started pushing herself away from my body with her sturdy little legs. I spent the remaining hour with both arms soar from the football clutch hold I had to adopt to keep her from firing herself like a cannon right onto the floor of the bus. I imagine she would have been quite happy if I'd unleashed her onto the bus aisle floor, her little body jerked back and forth and the driver pumped the brake and then slapped the gas pedal. Not wanting bruises all over her round little body, I struggled to keep her "safely" on my lap.
I might add that I'm not the best flyer under any circumstances. I have my phobias, usually requiring valium or at least half a bottle of cheap British Airways wine. This trip will be harder with my billion dollar baby bouncing right there on my lap. I admit it, I'm scared. I finally got to a moment in my life where I'm pretty satisfied with my lovely daughter and I don't want any of it taken away from me.
But off this morose topic for a moment here to celebrate some other fun stuff--not only Eliza crawling, she's regularly hoisting herself up against furniture. Last night as I shut off the shower to the accompaniment of some healthy Eliza screaming, I entered the bedroom to see her confidently standing while holding on to the side of the crib, her mouth seeming larger than her face. I summoned C for a peek, not only so show her warrior pose but how unlikely it is for Eliza to "go back to sleep on her own" when she looks ready for battle. C and I have an ongoing battle about night waking and crying. He's for the "cry it out" approach while I, perhaps more sensitive to the tenor of her cries, know better. Her tired, yes I might be able to fall asleep cry sounds far different from the screaming that only a good cuddle will calm down. Again, I digress.
She smiles, she smiles, she smiles. She's always been a smiley kid but now that smile seems destined to bust her face in half. After another horrid night of sleep for me (I probably topped out at 3 hours) I rejoiced in her smiles yesterday morning in bed while her father snored through the event. I envied his ability to sleep through her wakefulness but at the same time I celebrated my ability to share her excitement at the start of a new day. This is a concept I have to hold on to because I topped out around four hours or five last night and I'm definitely starting to hear the buzz in my ears and the trails of imaginary moving rodents while my eyes and state of mind succumb to my fatigue. Someday I'll get a good nights sleep again. Some day.
But not today. And probably not tonight.
She giggles uncontrollably sometimes now. Not often, perhaps only once a day but there's this great window when I can kiss her belly and neck and nibble on her chubby legs and she'll squeal and giggle delightedly as I drink her in and relish the moment. I can't believe how great this baby is, how much I can enjoy her simply by chewing on her little leg.
Of course there's a flip side--the crying at 4am isn't fun nor are are diaper changing wrestling sessions. Why would Eliza stay still while I try to unwrap and replace a diaper when she can roll over, stick her soiled but in the air and start showing off her newfound skills? You know what gets everywhere but even still, the sight of her naked butt in the air is so charming that if it wasn't me with you know what on my hands, this could be one of the greatest moments ever. But it isn't, especially when it repeats itself about seven times a day.
So that's my girl for today. Right now she's napping, I hope happily. I tried to join her but ended up here instead. Perhaps I shall curl up on the couch some more.
Yesterday, a Sunday, exactly two weeks after her precrawling incident, Eliza crawled from the middle of the rug to greet me here at the computer. Covering a distance of about six feet, Eliza grabbed my foot, swatted at it a bit, then made the move for a portable file holder I have stashed under the desk. This file folder sports an enticing, shiny metal bar and Eliza couldn't resist grabbing the holder and pulling it towards herself repeatedly. Fearing birth certificates, bank statements and passports all over the floor I had to forfeit my place at the computer and sweep her into my arms with joy.
I started crawling at five and a half months so Eliza's two months behind me in this game. But right on the Murphy's Law schedule of parenting. Eliza will suffer her first long flight this week and her newfound mobility will probably be further cause to propel herself off the lap of whoever holds her through the seven or eight or who knows with the time change flight to Amsterdam. Last week I took a short hour and a half long bus ride with Eliza that felt kind of like my version of "No Exit." Eliza slept peacefully in her sling for about a half hour, then woke up and immediately started pushing herself away from my body with her sturdy little legs. I spent the remaining hour with both arms soar from the football clutch hold I had to adopt to keep her from firing herself like a cannon right onto the floor of the bus. I imagine she would have been quite happy if I'd unleashed her onto the bus aisle floor, her little body jerked back and forth and the driver pumped the brake and then slapped the gas pedal. Not wanting bruises all over her round little body, I struggled to keep her "safely" on my lap.
I might add that I'm not the best flyer under any circumstances. I have my phobias, usually requiring valium or at least half a bottle of cheap British Airways wine. This trip will be harder with my billion dollar baby bouncing right there on my lap. I admit it, I'm scared. I finally got to a moment in my life where I'm pretty satisfied with my lovely daughter and I don't want any of it taken away from me.
But off this morose topic for a moment here to celebrate some other fun stuff--not only Eliza crawling, she's regularly hoisting herself up against furniture. Last night as I shut off the shower to the accompaniment of some healthy Eliza screaming, I entered the bedroom to see her confidently standing while holding on to the side of the crib, her mouth seeming larger than her face. I summoned C for a peek, not only so show her warrior pose but how unlikely it is for Eliza to "go back to sleep on her own" when she looks ready for battle. C and I have an ongoing battle about night waking and crying. He's for the "cry it out" approach while I, perhaps more sensitive to the tenor of her cries, know better. Her tired, yes I might be able to fall asleep cry sounds far different from the screaming that only a good cuddle will calm down. Again, I digress.
She smiles, she smiles, she smiles. She's always been a smiley kid but now that smile seems destined to bust her face in half. After another horrid night of sleep for me (I probably topped out at 3 hours) I rejoiced in her smiles yesterday morning in bed while her father snored through the event. I envied his ability to sleep through her wakefulness but at the same time I celebrated my ability to share her excitement at the start of a new day. This is a concept I have to hold on to because I topped out around four hours or five last night and I'm definitely starting to hear the buzz in my ears and the trails of imaginary moving rodents while my eyes and state of mind succumb to my fatigue. Someday I'll get a good nights sleep again. Some day.
But not today. And probably not tonight.
She giggles uncontrollably sometimes now. Not often, perhaps only once a day but there's this great window when I can kiss her belly and neck and nibble on her chubby legs and she'll squeal and giggle delightedly as I drink her in and relish the moment. I can't believe how great this baby is, how much I can enjoy her simply by chewing on her little leg.
Of course there's a flip side--the crying at 4am isn't fun nor are are diaper changing wrestling sessions. Why would Eliza stay still while I try to unwrap and replace a diaper when she can roll over, stick her soiled but in the air and start showing off her newfound skills? You know what gets everywhere but even still, the sight of her naked butt in the air is so charming that if it wasn't me with you know what on my hands, this could be one of the greatest moments ever. But it isn't, especially when it repeats itself about seven times a day.
So that's my girl for today. Right now she's napping, I hope happily. I tried to join her but ended up here instead. Perhaps I shall curl up on the couch some more.
posted by Litgirl Mama at 7:41 AM
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