my dear ramona bean,
you gave me a helluva time getting good photos this month. you are moving and a-grooving. i couldn’t even make you smile bc you just wanted to stand and wiggle and scare me to death with your antics on the rocking chair. so, no more rocking chair.
you are an army-crawling machine! one day before you turned eight months old you got up on your hands and knees and did some “real” crawls but mostly you’re dragging yourself with your arms and pushing with all of your legs. it’s cute. and however you do it, you sure can get to where you want to. you’ve also started pulling yourself up onto low things. there’s a floor cushion/foot ottoman thingy we have and you snake your little belly and arms up onto that. and one morning last week i was taking a shower and you tried to crawl right in there with me. you also like to try and be like max by standing up at the couch or the coffee table. your legs are strong but you’re not entirely certain about the balance thing yet.
the fun surprise this month was the two little teeth that just seemed to pop up overnight. they suit your big-little grin so much, poking out from behind your lower lip. the buds arrived with little fanfare but something else in your mouth is sure making some commotion. you are obviously uncomfortable and your nose and mouth will not stop running (snot and drool, respectively). maybe your two top teeth are next?
also, suddenly, you seemed to show intertest in solid foods. we’ve reevaluated baby-food-making in the powerdriver kitchen and now just offer you whatever we’re eating. sometimes we mash it up or cut it into small pieces but you are just as content and skilled at scraping bits of fruit (apples and bananas and pears) off in your mouth from the larger chunk you hold. eating this way with you has encouraged papa and i to eat more whole foods — things we feel most comfortable offering your new, little belly. nona fed you almost an entire cup of kurdish lentil soup when we were visiting minneapolis. and you also gorged on pita and melitzana at anna’s. the night before we went to minnesota we went out for sushi with diri and dido and you ate everything we offered you including a teeny bit of wasabi!
the only things you absolutely won’t eat are applesauce (you crazy, lady) and anything pureed offered to you on a spoon. unless you have control of that spoon. avocado and peanut butter and the spicy tomato salsa from papa’s breakfast burrito at crema seem to be your favorite things this week.
you’re spunky. and i sense a little stubborn. you are spirited, extremely independent, and really tough. you are determined, content, and an excellent communicator. we are having so much fun.
love, mama.
see how she’s grown!: seven months, five months, three months, one month, one week.
soaking up the afternoon sun.
and also, the plant. the only thing on our baby-friendly main floor that she isn’t allowed. and the only thing she wants.
we used to think we had it easy: bed sharing with a baby that didn’t move and could latch on to nurse in her sleep. this arrangement woke up virtually none of us so even though ramona wasn’t sleeping through the night (and still isn’t) we all slept like she had.
but now she’s big. and moves in her sleep. and babbles in her sleep. and so we’ve started putting her in a crib (it’s actually a pack n play) at the foot of our bed in our one tiny bedroom. and she sleeps better with no other bodies around to distract her (recently she’s started rooting on jp’s cheeks after she’s had enough from me). and we’ve started sleeping better without a flailing baby taking up room and knocking us in the face.
and now, even with overall better sleep, i’m complaining bc i have to actually get my tired butt out of bed to get her out of the crib to nurse her for her nightly feedings (every 3-4 hours after she goes to bed between 6:00 and 7:00). i always pull her back into bed with us but am usually awoken no-one-knows-when-bc-i’m-too-delirious-to-look-at-the-clock later by a flailing, grunting baby. so i have to get up–again–and put her back in the crib on her belly where she falls fast and quietly asleep.
all this to say, well, nothing really, except that while i’ll always be a proponent and advocate of bed sharing, i have no idea how people do it for so long and with larger, more active children or with multiple children. that is not judgment. that is actual disbelief and respect. bc i love love love sleeping with ramona. but jp and i always agreed that if our sleep was negatively affected we’d have to reevaluate and, sadly, i think that time has come.
when i would go out to the barnyard in my flip-flops, our chickens (RIP) would always waddle over to my toes and peck at my painted toenails. when i bent down to offer them scraps from my hand they would often lunge at my wedding ring instead. they thought that my red toes or my shiny ring were bugs. i was always amused by this and would most often allow it (pecks don’t hurt). after a peck or two they realized that there was no protein to be gotten from those toenails and would move on to the scraps in my hand or the offerings i had dumped in the corner pile.
bean is my little chicken little. when i’m doing things with my hands in front of her–showing her how to clap, waving at her, pointing out my fingers or her nose–she grabs for my tiny but shiny wedding ring. when i’m sitting on the couch and she’s playing around on the rug, eventually and always she shimmies her way over to my oft-tapping, dancing toes. she grabs at them, tries to contain them, slaps at them, claps at them, sometimes puts her mouth on them. she loves to watch them wiggle.
she’s my little chicken.
an old, silk scarf + some hide-and-seek = one happy baby.
welcome
