all things dumpling

the tiny cutie deserves a whole entry.

most nights, after she is asleep, i miss her. yes, i know, this is ridiculous.

she has increased her scooting speed enough that the queen put up the baby gate today. sadly, it separates the cat from the cat food. oh well. more importantly, it separates the baby from the stairs.

she now says "puppy", although i've noticed that she will learn a word, say it for a few days and then store it away somewhere (hopefully) and move on.

the way her face lights up when she sees the queen, either of the grandmothers or any small person is enough to make your heart soften to room-temperature butter.

a friend of ours picked her up a pink pegasus costume, which she looks adorable in. of course, since she looks adorable in everything, i'm sure you assumed.

the queen plays "chase" with her, and i am her escape vehicle. she, of course, has to stop and turn around every now and then, to make sure he is still chasing (sometimes he "falls asleep" in the hallway, like a dragon of fairy tales). in related matters, she hugs me fiercely, which i appreciate and reciprocate.

so yes, she flirts, smiles, dances, eats, drinks, sleeps and scoots in a very little dumplingish way. since we started feeding her a huge bowl of rice (and quinoa and oat) cereal every evening, she happily sleeps through the night.

her favourite foods are toast and avocado, lentil soup, fruit snacks, and all things carbohydrate. she dislikes stringy foods, like sweet potatoes, homemade canned peaches, and usually but not always, bananas.

she is this big: when seated on the bottom step to get her shoes put on, she can touch the floor with her tiny toes. of course she is seated on the edge of the step, not far back. don't be ridiculous - she's not that big. although the queen has an obsession with her size - her back is huge, she is a very big girl, even her tiny boogers are ginormous to him.

if anyone could bring world peace through cuteness, i suspect (and i am not biased, no) it would be this little dumpling.

parenting for one year: check.

the dumpling is officially one. it was a pretty good birthday weekend, although we are turning into one of those households the queen and i didn't want to live in: too many plastic toys :( she did receive one wooden rattle with a snazzy orange handle, which of course she loves and plays with all the time. and truckloads of pink clothing. thank goodness my old friend from high school brought a bag of awesome hand-me-downs from her kidlet, which included a john deere hoodie and some tiny orange carhartts, so we still have a balance.

we took the dumpling to her first public pool experience. she was all "biggest bathtub ever! holy crap!" and had a great time. a small portion of the queen's family came out (the rest all working, or vacationing in various warm and/or more exciting places than this) and my parents drove down, and some friends from the city came too, which made it super fun. at the end of the day, i thought the dumpling would pass out from all the craziness, but of course she was too overstimulated and sobbed instead. a huge bowl of rice cereal eventually did the trick, after which the queen and i passed out on the couch.

to celebrate surviving one year of parenting, we picked up a nice bottle of oban scotch. we're simple folks :)

now the dumpling suddenly seems huge, with many skills. although she still needs me to operate the puppet and hold the tiny cardboard books, so no escape yet.

guide to baby clothes

gotta do it. it's driving me crazy. there is some useless shit out there.

sleepers: these are the complete one-piece pyjamas. THEY MUST HAVE TOES. thank you. they come either snapped up (slight pain in the ass at four in the morning) or zipped up (better, but make sure there is a snap at the very top - this shelters tiny necks from being jabbed with zipper heads). i prefer zipped, but many are snapped. the ones with snaps can have them up both legs - if not you end up having to jam a leg in - this leg can be very unjammable ("no! i will not stretch! i will remain absolutely straight and turn purple with rage! what the hell are you doing to me?"). my favourite is a sleeper given to us by mz awesome - it has two zippers - one up each leg - and two snaps at the top for neck protection.

onesies: these are the little bodysuits sans legs. they make changing diapers reasonably easy, and you can just throw a pair of pants to achieve clothed baby. the big problem here is the neck - you have to put onesies on over the preternaturally ginormous head. some just stretch (i like the overlapping shoulder stretchies versus the plain elastic ones) and some have a couple of snaps up the back. get some longsleeved and some shortsleeved. (i wish we knew someone to give this to).

socks: knee socks are best. ankle socks are as ridiculous and useless as pockets, and less cute. the higher, the better. remember, wriggling octopus must wear them.

t-shirts: for the baby that gets carried, annoying. they ride up.

dresses are better. riding up happens less often, but they're still easy diaper changes. some come with matching bottoms, but we have cute cloth diapers, so i don't worry about it too much (except for grandparent visits).

sweaters: super cute, especially when knit by friends. hoodies are also nice, though i think i prefer tuques to hoods as it interferes less with peripheral vision. baby sweaters seem rarely to come with zippers, which i think is a missed opportunity, but at least they are often cardigans. over-the-head sweaters sound like a nightmare.

bibs: the peanut currently goes through four to six a day - drooly mcspitup. i don't like leaving them on when they're damp, because something damp beside the skin all day long is gross. the big decision is velcro vs snap. the velcro sticks to everything in the wash while the snap (i fear) digs into her back, all bulky. i think i'd lean toward snap-up, especially for secondhand shopping, as velcro wears out with time. whew.

'nighties'. these are basically baby-in-a-bag. most of them don't have bottoms, but i got a hold of a couple that did and i like them. the wife called them little prisons because they are closed at the bottom, but i think they just keep baby toes warm. i like nighties better than sleepers because they are closer to sleeping naked than sleepers are, and i think we should all sleep naked as long as we're warm enough.

little mittens: some sleepers come with built-in optional mittens. go for built-in optional things whenever you can. mittens on their own are decent for when she develops little talons that we haven't trimmed. generally i avoid them though, because i think it's better to let the hands touch things - that's how they learn. we have used them on occasion though.

two pieces i want to try: baby leg warmers and chaps (though i'm still interested in adopting the diaper-free approach).

title? i don't have time for titles...

ahgfzk.

the queen and i are very adept at figuring out whose turn it is to get up with the peanut; "it's so your turn. i've been up for hours." sigh. she was sleeping a lot and for admirable lengths of time, so of course we jinxed ourselves by bragging about it. now we're hooped by her frequent awakenings during our favourite sleeping hours - four to nine am. cheers! i salute you, baby, with bailey's in my coffee. would you like some in your bottle? take the edge off? no? too bad... someone should make a facebook test: what will be your baby's favourite drink? ha ha. ugh. please don't drink straight vodka, that's all i ask.

it seems that by springing off some offspring, we have reinvited ourselves to all family holidays. thus, easter is once again a 'big deal'. friday at my folks' place (huge extenda-family gathering) and sunday at the farm, which leaves saturday to maybe drop in on the wife, since the wife's mom is visiting. another crazy weekend.

we just got back from the city, where once again, i felt rushed and didn't enjoy myself as much as i wanted to. but it was way, way better than it's been; the wife let us stay at her place, and then took off for most of the weekend - that woman way deserved a break from her life, and looked refreshed upon return. we also got a good brunch in with some pregnant friends - mr and mz glow (they glowed before they got knocked up, but they definitely glow now. their baby will probably glow in the dark). they visited me in the hospital - mr glow researched hemoglobin-enriching foods and brought down a small carload of food for me, and mz glow gave me some reiki. lovely couple, excited to see them breeding!

can't remember the last time i went to a queer-friendly night at a club or checked out an angsty poetry night - my life is quite hetero-normative now. also, the queen cut his hair and bought a truck, and we both wear cowboy boots; we really are living the smalltown prairie life, and need a bumpersticker that says "my other car is a gun" to complete the picture. only here and in texas, my friends...

i am noticing the crankiness setting in (in me). parenting a tiny baby, when it's not absolutely fascinating, can be somewhat boring. they ask a lot and give back cute little noises and some faeces. gee, thanks.

i think i have a life, hold on, it's under a onesie that got peed on... just a sec here...

disjointed thoughts? no, i haven't noticed that... must go read some anaïs nin while i can...

peanut update

ah yes, the child.

curently growing out of onesies while remaining paradoxically tiny. exciting signs of evolution include frequent smiling, the beginnings of pouts and reproachful looks, more food intake and longer sleeps at night (sometimes). now outweighs the cat.

also, she makes noises. i didn't realise there was a difference between "goo" and "bbbthff". she has evolved to the former. it's very exciting because she has this shy, "are we conversing? is this right? hi there, come here often?" sort of look while she tries out her new sounds.

this love is terrifying.
i love her so much i grit my teeth smiling;
perma-grin.

this love is ferocious.
i growl and shelter her with my body
from the least noise.

this love is new.
i love her without a first date,
or any testing.

blech.

for some reason, i feel gross. it's a beautiful day out, the peanut allowed us to sleep and is napping again, i have time to write letters, etc, and instead i loaf around, feeling gross. i went for a walk a while ago to clear myself, but i still feel blechy.

motherhood: it's terrifying. i need to acknowledge that currently, part of me is locked in my head, rocking back and forth muttering "what have you done? what have you done?" it's scary for a perfectionist to try and stop a crying baby. sometimes you've tried everything and you just have to try it all again, hoping something will work that didn't work the first time around. sometimes she's hungry but doesn't realise that eating will solve her problem. sometimes i'm just tired of it, sometimes she wakes up every half an hour and it takes an hour to get her back to sleep.

sometimes i wish i was still childless, still at the bookstore in the city, still stressed out about what i'm going to do with my life, still feeling like an underachiever.

today, i don't like living in a small prairie town. i don't like the neighbours i haven't met who are roofing next door. i am weirded out at the house decorations (bright pink fences, cowboy cutouts on the outside walls, strange wooden carvings that look unintentionally like southpark characters), the small-town-big-penis cars and trucks (adorned with flaming skulls, etc) and the smell of thawing dog shit.

fortunately, in all this, i still love my daughter. and the queen! he is extra lovely these days, even though he's trying to sell a car that ran perfectly reasonably until he decided to sell it, and since then, has been haunting him with strange little fuck-ups. he even took it into a shop, as opposed to fixing it himself, and then it wouldn't run at all. ah, shop mechanics (my apologies to the three good ones out there).

i'm not even tired, so i can't go back to bed (tried that). i'm caught up on laundry and dishes, i don't feel like reading... blech.

a bit of everything for everyone

remember the cat?

me neither. just kidding! olive is, of course, jealous of the peanut. usually content to sleep at the foot of the bed or in between the queen's legs, she has recently decided she needs to sleep between us, by the pillow. right where the baby is. also, she needs to be on my lap, but only when the baby is. when we burp the baby, she comes running, because she likes spanks (s&m kitty, now you know. i outed her.) and it seems to her that we're spanking the child far more often than her own deserving bum gets any action (this is further compounded by the fact i still bend down very rarely, so olive will lure me to the carpet only to be frustrated).

poor cat. she still gets lovins though. i am still thoroughly a cat person. the queen also gives her attention, though his attention is somewhat more... violent than mine. he claims he has broken her, giving evidence that she lets him roll her over and toss her onto beds and couches. i think they vent their frustrations on each other.

i've also taken to talking to the cat like i talk to the baby, and i periodically call the child "kitten". ah well. the queen started calling olive "olivia" which evolved into 'livey, and this morning i heard him call out " 'livey oil! " who broke who, that's what i wonder.

neck cheese?

something that they don't tell you: babies' bodies have lots of folds, and things hide in there. the milk she drinks sometimes (okay, frequently) gets drooled down the side of her mouth and into the crevices in her neck. then it colonizes into neck cheese. these neck folds are tricky, let me tell you. we're talking quaker-during-the-civil-war tricky. spit-up neck cheese is even more quease-inducing, mostly because i just think so. anyway. clean those necks. all of them. especially the ones you can't see.

the midwives!

we had our last official midwife visit, but i hope we see these fabulous women again. they're just awesome. i needed to share that. i've laughed so often during our visits, and i felt so cared for after the birth, with all the breastfeeding troubles, and when i was in the hospital. i appreciate them so much more because i have so much less local community here.

well, mostly i just wanted to talk about neck cheese. wait! for those who remember that i used to blog about adult things like films and books:

we watched "black swan" last night. someone should have warned me it's a psychological horror movie. i watch movies to relax or be mentally stimulated, not scared out of my wits with clenched muscles. that said, it was reasonably well done, although the queen noted the serious amount of ballet and mom issues pegged it as a chick flick, dark as it may be.

i'm (slowly) reading a collection of larry niven short stories. i had read one of his novels and decided it was too "boy sci-fi" for me, but the stories are great. the queen (who got me the book) says his stories tend to be better than his books.

there you go, media fans. some media.

the peanut (photos by the queen)

the peanut tribe evolves

the little peanut is getting to be fun. i have enough strength to pick her up for short periods of time (to the relief of the queen, since she really likes being carried around. she looks at things now! we're not always sure what she is looking at, but it's something. she seriously ponders it).

parents tend to view their child with favoritism (this deluded behaviour is part of a survival mechanism of the child's, trust me) and we have decided she is the cutest, has lovely long fingers and is abnormally strong. this leads to long discussions about chasing boys away, and whether rugby practice will conflict with piano lessons. it's important that she learns to read music before approaching the guitar from a free, jamming perspective, says the queen. she does love to wave the limbs around though. she pushes the bottle away and raises one arm a lot, sometimes pointing, other times addressing the crowd with her hands in a politician's style ("my people - we are gathered here today on this momentous occasion to mark a point in history...").

speaking of gathered here today, trixie is helping me plan our wedding. yeah, gettin' hitched alberta style! mud wrestling! cowboys! dead meat!

trying to have a small wedding when you're marrying someone of irish catholic background is challenging, but i am being fierce - i will hurt people's feelings by not inviting them if that's what i have to do (only my own friends of course - the queen had to hurt his friends' feelings himself. that's how relationships work). it's difficult, because i don't feel like i have a clear line of "these people are emotionally significant and these people are merely casual acquaintances". so there are emotionally significant folks whom i just don't see often enough and/or haven't known long enough to make the "small wedding" cut. and that sucks, in huge part because i am a people-pleaser and don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. i like telling people they belong. but hey, i guess my wedding isn't the social event of the year and i'm probably sadder than they will be. it helps to check the ego.

some humour - i passed time in the hospital imagining the food preparation guidelines (i almost typed "food perpetration, and it's not all wrong). for example, toast:

1. set oven to lowest setting
2. place slices of bread inside on tray
3. let sit for four hours

or the chicken consommé:

1. start with too much cornstarch
2. add one slice of green onion
3. add water; don't mix
4. take boullion cube of chicken; shave tiny amount in - enough so that you can legally testify you put it in there
5. heat and serve

but i never could figure out what the hell they did to the meat to make it taste so horribly. airplane food and prison food are both better than hospital food. what is this about?