5-month milestones

Amelia is turning 5 months in a couple of days. It's a super-fun age. She is full of beans all the time and is becoming much more dependent. She's also BIG! We had to switch to size 3 diapers and in the cloth diapers she is wearing the large setting. I cannot believe it. Here's what she's up to these days:

She's very vocal and has been happily shrieking whenever it suits her—even at 4 a.m. sometimes! She zerberts and makes low-pitched lion roars under her breath.

She's gotten really good at grasping things and likes to put everything in her mouth: her thumb, her nuk, her bottle, Mama's hair, her bib, her burp cloth, her sleeve. You name it.

We've been going to yoga together every Sunday. She loves to lay on her belly and watch the other babies and Mamas. She loves to chatter while Susan is trying to teach the class.

She's been rolling over more and more. Once she rolled from back to front, but I wasn't looking and so I missed it. She hasn't done it since.

A couple of days ago, she sat in the high chair all by herself. And she's pretty good at sitting in the bumbo seat at school too.

Tonight I nursed her down before bed, but she didn't fall asleep, so I tried putting her in her crib just to see what would happen. I left the room and waited. Nothing. No sounds, no fussing, no chatting. A few minutes later, I went in to check on her and she was asleep! She fell asleep all by herself. That is a first and I'm not getting my hopes up that she will do it again any time soon, but it did make Mama proud.

The most magical thing though is her smile. All you have to do is give her a little glance and her face just lights up. You can't help but melt. Even when you can see her face light up in the dark bedroom at 3:30 in the morning. You want to sleep. She wants to play. You see that smile and it's a-okay.

back in the saddle, but it's a different animal

I've been back at work now for a month. We're all doing okay. It's just a different animal, what with the breast pumping, bottle washing, and child care pickups bookmarking and bookending my days. But just like everything else with a new baby, every day is easier—and harder—than the day before.

Easier, because you're constantly learning and improving and becoming more efficient. Harder, well, because you're raising a child and working full time and somewhere in between you have a relationship to nurture and a life to enjoy. So far, it feels that I'm doing everything, but nothing very well. Meanwhile, Meals has dealt with things like a true champ.

For both of us, it's a milestone week. She's turning 4 months on Thursday. And I turn 32 tomorrow. All of a sudden she's doing things like sucking her thumb, making growling noises at the nip, and rolling over from back to belly. She's growing! And for the first time, Mama feels older than her years. Where did all those wrinkles come from? It's bittersweet.

We had our usual Sunday night family dinner last night and it ended up being a surprise birthday party for me. Emi made her famous cupcakes and before I blew out the candles, Col snapped this photo of me and my girl. I absolutely love the expression on her face. What could be going on in that little mind of hers? I think our girl is going to be a thinker, for sure. And what was I thinking? Happy happy birthday.

she rolls

This morning, I put Amelia down for some tummy time. I left for a second to grab my phone and when I got back, I saw this:

She rolled over all by herself! Pretty sure it was a fluke, I put her back on her tummy to see if she'd do it again. She did. Two more times. Then she got tired and was over it. But later in the day I got her to do it again and this time, I was ready with the video camera. Just shy of 11 weeks and already rolling over. That's our girl!

sleep walking

When I was pregnant, it used to really bug me when people would say, "get as much sleep as you can now, cause when the baby comes, you won't get any..." To be honest, I was annoyed by a lot of things people said when I was pregnant. Thank the hormones. The sleep thing was especially aggravating. I think because deep down, I knew I could never be totally prepared for what was about to happen to our comfortable little lifestyle. (Can you really stock up on sleep points in advance? I don't think so.) But the people saying these things had already been through it. They had one up on me and I hate that. Yes I do. I like to know everything. I like to be right about everything. Ask my husband. It's probably one of my worst faults.

Now that I'm going through it, I sort of wonder what the big deal is with sleep. More to the point, I am amazed how your body adapts to the situation to get you through. There's this whole other dimension of living life out there that I never knew existed until now. I'm talking about sleep-walking. When you're tired all the time, you don't feel tired. Sometimes you feel mellow. Sometimes you feel racy. It's liberating. Exciting even!

Nap when baby naps? Heck no! When she's down, I thrive on bursts of energy that creep up from nowhere. It's making me more efficient. The house is cleaner now than it ever was pre-baby. I can carry on an entire conversation with my husband without remembering a bit of it. Now that's what I call conserving brain power! And the thing is when you do sit down and "wake up" as it were from your zombie dance, and realize that yes perhaps you've reached the end and you need a good old vacation on a tropical island away from everyone, your baby throws you a bone: maybe she decides to sleep for a whole 6 hours in a row that night so you can refuel (go, Amelia!). Or maybe she just gives you one of those heart-melting smiles that says, "it's okay mamma, we can just sit here for a while and do nothing. I'll stare at the ceiling and you can stare at me. And we'll just do nothing and be happy."

the sick

It started out as an innocent cough. So minor, it could've been mistaken for some spit-up down the wrong tube. But the cough didn't stop. Then she started feeling warm and would cry if I tried to put her down. I took her temp. Too hot. By midnight, cough and fever had progressed to congestion and trouble breathing. I was convinced she was going to die. We held that baby all night and didn't sleep a wink. Morning was a long time coming. But finally, the doctor's office opened and they told me to come down right away.

The nurse weighed her. "She's gained 2 ounces since her check-up on Monday!" She took her temp. (Of course, she didn't cry this time.) Normal.

I stammered, "uh, I just gave her Tylenol an hour ago. Maybe that's why her fever's gone..."

A quick exam by the doc and he concluded, "Yup, she's got a cold. Keep doing what you're doing. She'll be better in about a week."

A cold? I thought to myself. A cold??? Am I totally crazy? I almost brought her to the ER last night.

Silly me.

Silly me for lots of things. For thinking the cold was a deadly virus. For waking the doctor up at 1 in the morning because my baby had a stuffy nose. For being convinced I damaged her sinuses with the bulb syringe. But mostly for thinking that childbirth was my formal initiation into this thing we call "parenthood." There is a new initiation practically every day. And I'm feeling humbled by it.

Day 3 and still a little groggy