Where did our waif go?
Somebody jumped from the 10th percentile at eight weeks (oh noes, she’s not gaining enough weight, we’re really worried about her…), to the 25th percentile at four months, to the NINETY-FIFTH PERCENTILE at six months (although really, she was five days short of seven months at the appointment). We have twenty pounds and one ounce of Owlet. No wonder I could barely handle the infant car seat any more! We officially moved up to the next size of car seat this past weekend, which brings with it its own host of issues like Owlet sitting on her own in grocery carts and so forth, with which she is not entirely comfortable yet.
So much happens in a month. The things that happened more recently are more present in my memory than the ones that happened thirty days ago. For example: Broccoli is the best thing ever!!11!1eleventy! Except roast potatoes were the best thing ever about four weeks ago, and two weeks after that it was green beans that were the bee’s knees, and so on. Since we’re already talking about food, this past month she has added green beans, oatmeal, roast potatoes, toast, broccoli, carrot sticks, mixed grain cereal, and yoghurt to her already rather varied diet. Generally I steam the veggies a bit and cut them into sticks, and she goes to town on them. She just adores food, any food, all food: she is so excited about it. Witness how enthusiastic about her first taste of broccoli was last Friday:
We introduced her to Baby Mum-Mums, the ubiquitous rice rusks that essentially melt as soon as they hit the tongue, and she is, as I feared, insane for them, and can recognise the package and throw a fit if she doesn’t get one after seeing them. They’re like potato chips for babies: they can’t have just one. They are reserved for treats, and she gets one when Sparky comes home from school and has his snack. She loves to eat with other people; it’s a huge social inclusive thing, so she feels very important sitting eating her rusk while Sparky has his cookie and milk. Toast serves much the same function when we’re at the table.
A week ago she figured out peekaboo on her own; it was like someone flipped a switch. It’s so much fun to watch her figure stuff out. A few weeks ago it was playing with her tummy turtle, a toy that has a mirror in its tummy so when the baby has tummy time they can look into it. I happened to be on the floor with her and she saw me in the mirror, then she angled the mirror again so she could see only herself, then again so she could see me, and so forth. Every time she moved it she’d look over her shoulder to see me in real life, to see if I’d moved, too.
She is dragging herself around with her hands and wriggling to get from point A to point B now, too. Crawling will happen in the next couple of weeks, we think. She loves tummy time; I can put her down on a blanket in her room with a box of toys on its side and she plays quietly for fifteen to twenty minutes, pulling things out and exploring them. She’s very social, however, and if other people are around she demands to be with them.
Sleeping in her own room continues to go well enough. Naps are still tricky at the twenty- and forty-minute marks, and if we can get past those she sleeps for over an hour or two. Nights generally are four to five hours of sleep before midnight, then three, then two, then she’s awake for the day, but after a horrible night of gastro last week she’s regressed to waking up every hour to two hours. Except last night, when she celebrated turning seven months old by sleeping five hours straight as of 11:30 PM, which, in casual medical parlance, is called ‘sleeping through the night.’ We shall see if she can repeat it.
In general, her day looks something like this: She wakes between 6:30 and 7:00 and nurses, then is up and playing and socialising until we take Sparky to his bus stop at 8:20. We’re home at 8:30 and she’s cranky for her bottle and bed, which happens around 8:40. This nap lasts anywhere between 30 minutes and 2 hours. Then it’s usually some more hanging out or watching Sesame Street if she’s awake in time. If she wakes early then there’s a snack of nursing or a rice rusk around 10:00. Lunch is a bowl of cereal and a pile of finger food, and happens between 11:00 and 11:30, after which she gets a small bottle and goes to sleep again. This second nap is usually about 30 to 40 minutes long, though there are the days where she throws a curve into plans for errands or such and sleeps for 2 hours. (Never on the days where she has a long nap in the morning, though.) Then it’s up and finding things to do till it’s either time for a quick nap at 3:00 (if it was a short midday nap) or going out at 3:40 to meet Sparky’s bus (if it was a longer nap). We’re home from the bus stop at 4:00, and she has a snack of rice rusks while Sparky has his own after-school snack, and then if she didn’t have a nap before we went out then she gets one between snack and supper, or supper is a nightmare for everyone. She usually has a twenty-minute catnap, and is fine for supper at 6:00, after which we have another small bottle chaser of milk, and then bedtime is between 6:30 and 7:00. There is a lot of fluidity in the daily schedule because the length of her naps are so unpredictable, which makes it really frustrating to try to plan things. The multiple brief naps are crazy-making in a lot of other ways, too, because I don’t have enough time to do more than toss a load of laundry into the machine. I’m very solitary by nature, too, and not having a social break from another person, however small and dependent, is really wearing. I feel like I spend my whole day trying to get her to sleep. And she does need sleep, or she’s miserable.
She adores jumping in her exersaucers. We tried a Jolly Jumper but we can’t get it short enough for her body to be in the optimal position. Her weight pulls it too close to the floor and her legs end up too bent. We started showing her the younger Baby Einstein DVDs here and there, too, and she loves those as well.
She has turned into a little chatterbox, constantly murmeling, whispering, and vocalizing in various ways. Shrieking was thankfully brief. She beeps and natters away to herself while wiggling around her crib when she wakes up from a nap if she’s had enough sleep; if she hasn’t she jumps straight to crying. She has a really fun gurgly belly laugh.
She completely lights up when HRH comes in the door at the end of the day. She fights to stand up on the sofa and hold on to the back so she can look over it and watch him get his coat off, bouncing up and down till he cones over and picks her up. Then she turns to me and gives me a lovely smile as if to say, I love you, Mum, and we had fun today but I’ve got my Daddy now and he is mine! And that’s usually fine by me, because by that point it’s always nice to not have a small squirmy limpet clinging to me in some way. She loves Sparky just as much. If he’s reading she wants to be next to him to listen and help turn pages. If he’s having a snack, she has to have one, too. The sun rises and sets in his eyes.
When we read books she touches all the pictures, but she doesn’t do it the way Sparky did, with a finger or the fingertips. She puts her whole palm down on the page and moves her hand around, like it’s absorbing information. She does it rather methodically, too; it’s not random.
So many babies in our online birth group are crawling, pulling up, or even — eep! — walking, but Owlet is happy not doing any of that. She didn’t even roll very much till this past week, although now she is the Incredible Flippy Baby when we put her down for a diaper change (goodbye changing table, hello bed). If I were less laid back about development I might be worried. But I know that those babies are early, and we’re doing just fine. Owlet is almost exactly following Sparky’s developmental schedule, actually, which I find interesting.
I’ve given up on any clothes that are smaller than 12 months, because I know the 12 mos ones will fit, whereas anything else sized between 6 and 12 months has zero guarantee and a very slim chance of fitting. I’m a bit wistful, actually. My doctor was delighted with the roly-poly baby with the rolls of fat, and I love to cuddle and squish her, but I miss my more delicate girl. How’s that for a shallow first world problem? I know she’s bulking up for a stretching growth period, though, and I know when she starts crawling it will burn off, too.
Photobombed by Sophie the Giraffe:
Ahem: again, please? Without the giraffe?