Starfish Envy

A Hop Across The Pond

If there's anyone out there still reading, I apologize for the radio silence!  Things have been a litle crazy lately.  Great and exciting, but crazy.

Champ and I are spending a couple of months in Budapest!  WP and I are shooting a pilot here, which required a temporary relocation.  Knowing I'd be working insane hours, my dad and step-mom offered to come along and provide free childcare and lots of cuddles.

The photo above is my dad, taking Champ for a little stroll.  She looks cozy, doesn't she?

Champ is growing like a weed.  She is eight months old, and she's crawling now.  She gave me her first sweet little baby kiss a few days ago.  She says "Mama," though I'm not entirely convinced she associates the word with me.  She loves reading books (particularly Quiet Loud, and Ten Little Fingers and Ten Little Toes, and I Love You Through and Through).  Her favorite toy is a set of exceptionally entertaining plastic eggs she got for Christmas.  She is very opinionated, in a delightful way.  She loves eating pear and avocado with her self-feeders.  She is an expert at blowing raspberries.  She has a not-so-nice habit of biting when she's in a fit of pique.  She adores looking in the mirror and seeing what that other little baby is up to.  She loves drumming on her bongo drum.  The city lights outside the windows of our fifth floor apartment in Budapest absolutely fascinate her.  She is totally cool with the freezing cold weather here.  She gives the best snuggles in the whole wide world.  She is everything.  

And Here's A (Late) Halloween Picture...

Mommy's little sushi.

Curling Up With A Good Boob

I love breastfeeding.

I love it for all the reasons women who love breastfeeding love it.  (And not all women do, also for very good reasons.)  I love having an excuse to spend several minutes, several times a day, doing nothing but looking at my daughter.  Marveling at her eyelashes, her fingers, the way she hooks her foot in the crook of my arm, her determined grip on my bra strap.   How she looks up at me, from time to time, just to make sure I'm still there.  The moments when her little hand flutters from my cheek to my nose to my breast and back again.  The fact that no one but me can do it.  (At least, with this particular baby.)  The way she smacks her lips when she's done and turns her whole body up to look at me with a smile.

Truly, I find it magical.

Also, it's a great time to read.

Since my daughter was born five months ago, I have read six books by Ann Patchett (every one she's written, I believe-- except Bel Canto, which I read when it came out in paperback); Lucy Grealy's Autobiography of a Face; 2012, by Dustin Thomason; and The Twelve, by Justin Cronin, which is so long I'm gonna say it counts as four normal-sized books.

All while breastfeeding.

In those moment when I'm not ogling my beautiful daughter, I'm flipping pages with my thumb.  Thanks to my iPhone, I can read in light or dark, and easily hold my "book" in one hand while flipping "pages" with one finger.

And I don't have to feel guilty... because what else could I be doing?  

Champ's gotta eat, after all.

 

 

Time To Bring In The Professionals

A couple of weekends ago, I finally had a professional photo shoot with Champ.  I loved every picture... but this is one of my favorites.

And in honor of staying in the picture, here's my favorite of us both:

Just When You Think She Can't Get Cuter...

She does.

I Mean, Really.

Could she BE cuter?

I'm gonna go with... no.

Down In My Heart

I used to think I needed more joy in my life.  

And I was right.  I did need more joy.

This joy I imagined was a bells pealing, choirs singing kind of joy, like in the Christmas song "Joy to the World."

Heaven and nature, I imagined, would sing.  

I imagined that, with this joy in my life, laughter would ring through the halls of my house.  A general giddiness would prevail.

But now I have joy... 

And joy, it turns out, is Champ leaning her head against my cheek.

It's a quiet house and a full baby at three a.m.

It's Moose licking tiny baby feet.

It's a coo.  A gummy smile.

It's spit-up on my sleeve.  A foot nestled in the curve of my arm.  Watching her watch the trees.  The grasp of tiny fingers around my thumb.

It's the delight on my parents' faces when they look at her.  Bath time.  The miracle of rolling over.

A sleepy sigh.

Joy, it turns out, is a quiet thing. 

You're Beautiful As You Feel

I've been resisting posting a picture of myself with Champ.  But in honor of the woman who wrote this amazing article that made me cry...

... here's a picture from when Champ was a week old, showing me in all my no-makeup, red-cheeked, double-chinned, sleep-deprived, bra-strap-showing glory.  Damn, I was happy.  (Still am, come to think of it.)

And here's one from this week.  My nanny took it because she realized my sweater matched Champ's pajamas.  Champ looks like she's thinking, "Oh God, she's gonna kiss me again, isn't she?  ISN'T SHE?"

To all those moms out there who disappear when the camera comes out because you don't think you look good enough...

Well.  Just read the article.

Then dry your eyes and get the camera out.  You look great.

Good Grandparenting

When I was about five months pregnant, my friend Nancy sent me a copy of The Happiest Baby On the Block.  

I already had a copy, so I sent it to my dad and step-mom.  I knew they'd be here soon after Champ was born, and I thought it might help if they were familiar with the Five S's (swaddle, side, shush, swing, and suck).  

And then I forgot all about it.

About a month later, they came to visit.  I was in my bedroom one morning when suddenly I heard a loud SHHHHHHHHHHH coming from the living room.

What in the world?

I went out to find my dad, face to face with Moose.   Shushing at top volume.

He and my step-mom had read the entire Happiest Baby On the Block book.  And he wanted to acclimatize Moose to the sound of shushing.

Quite possibly the sweetest thing I've ever seen.

And entirely emblematic of how whole-heartedly my parents have jumped into their renewed grandparenthood.

The one thing (so far) that's tough about being a single parent is that there's no one who thinks the little moments in your baby's life and development are as incredible as you do.  There's no one to turn to and say, "Oh my God!  She's sucking her upper lip!"  No one who'll stare at her with you while she's sleeping so you don't feel like a total stalker of your own baby because even though it's getting later and later and you really should go to sleep you just CAN'T STOP STARING because she's just.  so.  awesome.

This is all to say that I am particularly grateful for my parents' enthusiasm.

And I wasn't at all surprised when my dad called a few days ago to ask if they could come for a visit.  Apparently, my step-mom just can't wait to see her until Thanksgiving.

I get it.

I can hardly wait to see her for the duration of a blink.

Here A Milestone, There A Milestone

Almost every second, Champ changes.

Yesterday she learned that she can fold in her lower lip and suck on it like a mad fiend. (She gave up pacifiers a couple weeks ago.  I went from being panicked if I didn't know where at least three were located at all times to not having a clue where one even is.)

Then, today, she rolled from her tummy to her back for the first time!  Absolutely momentous.  When she pushed her little body from floor-facing to ceiling-facing, she didn't even cry.  

Until my nanny and I made her do it three more times so I could get it on video.  

(I can't figure out how to post video from my iPhone here, but here's a photo taken immediately after her successful roll.  See?  Calm as can be.  She's the Buddha of tummy-rolls.)

And tonight she absolutely would not go to sleep until I took her arms out of her swaddle sack.

So now, for the first time, she's sleeping away, arms free at her sides.

Tomorrow she'll probably master origami.