crawling...soon baby girl, soon.

Althea spends a lot of time every day now trying so hard to crawl forward.  No longer is she content with lying, or sitting, in the location where I have placed her, surrounded by interesting and brightly colored objects.  It's almost comical except I can see how frustrating it must be, and then I feel bad for her.  She sees something that she wants (usually me, but sometimes a toy or baby danger item like cord, choking hazard, etc).  She can paddle herself around in a circle and spin like a little clock...still can't get it.  She can roll side to side across the room laterally...still can't get it.  She can push up into cobra and slide backwards (until she runs into the wall or wedges herself under the couch) and now, not only can she still not get it, but the object of her desire is EVEN FARTHER AWAY GODDAMMIT!  This is when she usually starts shrieking.  Loud, earsplitting shrieks, accompanied by a look (again, usually at me) that manages to imply that really, this is all my fault. Why can I not see that she is in need of some assistance RIGHT NOW MAMA, RIGHT NOW!.

soon baby girl, soon.  you will figure this out and then oh baby oh, how your world's gonna grow.  and Mama will be in for it then.

Poll: is this normal?

So, when Althea is not in my direct line of sight, especially if I also can't hear her, my brain spits out these horrible little scenarios wherein she is dead.  Seriously.  Example:  this morning, I am cutting up squash to make soup for friend with new baby.  Althea is sleeping (morning nap is awesome) in her bedroom.  Nap begins to go on a little longer than one might expect (nearing one hour).  Half of my brain is saying 'excellent!  baby take long nap, mama accomplish many things.  chop all the squash in one fell swoop!'  but the other, death obsessed, morbid half of my brain is saying 'as you stand here rejoicing about cutting squash, your baby definitely smothered herself in a pillow and is dead in the next room'.
Or:  Walker take the baby on a walk.  They are gone longer than I expect.  I start to believe they have been hit by a car, and I shouldn't have been so giddy about getting half an hour to myself, since now I will never see Althea again.
What the fuck?  Does this happen to other mamas?  Does it ever stop? Like when they get bigger and are out of your sight more, does it at least happen less? Its alarming, and unnerving, and frankly disturbing.
So:  normal?  you tell me.

In less depressing postscript, my fingers are stained baby poo orange from the squash.

is 'laissez-faire' a parenting style?

an introduction: as a cure for boredom this week I staged a photo op with paint and the baby. Several people I know then asked me where I had found 'baby safe paint' (note baby licking paint). Dur. I just used regular paint and tried not to let her eat too much of it.

*confession - I also let her lick the floor/my pants/the toys at the fun zone. and when her bink falls on the ground, I stick it in my mouth to get the germs off before giving it back to her.   One of my parenting tips might be 'don't let the baby play with the cat's asshole'.   I mean really, are there people out there who actually sterilize baby toys?  Gah.  Frankly, I'd rather be...well, almost anything.  so then I think, hmmmmm...am I a bad parent?  nah.

PS.  I also don't use one of those 'cart cover' things at the grocery store.  I just plop her right in it.  gasp.  shudder.

teeth and bike helmets

are both for big girls.  I'm having a minor panic attack about this whole tooth thing.  No one warned me it would be so very alarming!  I mean, its tiny.  One, wee little tooth.  Not even a whole tooth yet, just the pointy top.  And it feels like such a big deal.  It IS a big deal.  A tooth.  Know who has teeth?  Grownups.  Big kids.  Not babies. And so in my mind there is a bi-polar refrain:
 'don't grow a tooth.  stay my little toothless baby.  no wait, don't.  grow up into an amazing little girl. no, just kidding.  not yet.  no teeth for you.  you don't need 'em.  but I guess you do, and a baby forever will get tiresome'...etc etc.

and just to add a little extra anxiety about little babies who are actually big babies, we got a bike seat and a helmet for her today.  Look closely:  you can see the helmet AND the tooth.  That damn tooth.  Next time someone asks me 'what didn't you expect about motherhood?' I'm not going to talk about the amazing all consuming love, or the constant preoccupation with pooping.  I'm going to say that I never knew a freaking tooth would turn into such a big deal.

inspired by my fridge

fridge magnet sets make everyone poetic.  fridge poem of the day

picture her
mother
woman milking
drool
delicate dreams
smear shit
goddess of the summer storm
run frantic girl
gift of stillness
love

no naps for me

I should have learned by now not to try and nap with the baby.  it always ends with me feeling worse.  invariably, i fall asleep, get into whatever the deep sleep is called, and the baby wakes up crying.  then i try desperately to make her go back to sleep because half a nap makes me MORE tired, not less.  She refuses.  If i was a better mother, the resulting 30 minutes of half crying/whining clinginess wouldn't make me feel like leaving the baby alone in her room, turning the music up really load to drown out her screams, and having a drink regardless of it being only 4:00.  Good mothers surely don't feel like this.  But I do.  So really, I should just not nap.  Sleep is for the weak.

feeding schedules?

If someone tried to put ME on a feeding schedule, there would be hell to pay.  but apparently many people have their babies on feeding schedules.  they look like this:

5:30 a.m 5 oz bottle

(back to sleep till 8/8:30)

9:30: 5 oz bottle

10:30-11:30 Nap

11:30- Stage 2 Fruit

1:30- 5 oz

3:30- 4:30 Nap

5:00 -Stage 2 Veggie

7:30- 5 oz mixed with a little rice cereal, and off to bed.

So I made one for us.  It looks like this:

3:00 am  nurse baby as tired of listening to her whining.

4:30 am nurse baby in desperate attempt to get more sleep

6:30 am nurse again and up for the day

8:00 am try to feed baby oatmeal with fruit.  baby makes horrible face, spits out all food.  give baby banana, baby mashes banana all around face, possibly ingests 1 teaspoon.  

9:30  nurse more.  how many ounces?  how would i know that?

12:00  nurse again.  distract baby from my lunch by giving her an apple core to chew on.  mmmmm....so delicious.  

3:30 nurse again.

5:00  give baby some steamed broccoli.  baby drops broccoli on the floor 7 times before I decide its too dirty to give back to her.  baby cries.  finger feed baby most of an egg yolk.  

6:30  nurse again.  bed time!  refuse to nurse baby again until 3:00 am in futile bid to decrease # of times baby wakes in night.  

repeat until crazy