Our Little Village

Abby loves me, but I think she might already be a daddy's girl. Of course, she's with me all day -- she gets overstimulated (read: sick of me) just like I do. But when Daddy is around, it's all good. If I hold her the way D is, in the picture above, she squirms and fusses til I turn her horizontal again. With him -- she could lie on his chest like that for hours, happily snoozing. This photo was taken in the hospital, but to my pleasure I have been treated to similar views nearly every day since Abby came home. I love seeing them together -- can you blame me?

For her part, Abigail is so big I almost don't recognize her. More pictures forthcoming, I promise, but for now, take my word for it. She is huge! She spends a lot more of the day awake, too, which is truly fun. She also makes smells and noises not unlike a baby pig. :) I adore her.

The other thing I don't recognize lately is me. Lord, I can't WAIT to start physical therapy again. I never thought I'd actually look forward to exercising. Everyone says I look good for someone who's just had a baby, but even if that's true, I don't recognize the size, shape, or texture of my body and I don't like it one bit. I want to be able to MOVE (and I want to fit into my clothes!).

At this moment I am trying to type with both hands, but it's not working very well. I am getting a lot of extra "Q"s and "W"s. My left hand dexterity really isn't there yet. As for walking, I've pretty much stopped using the walker except when things are bad (usually at the end of a long day). I even managed Border's yesterday and today's ob-gyn appointment without it. I stumble around a bit, and move very slowly, but I carried a grande decaf skim no-foam latte across the doctor's office lobby! I could be wrong (I often am), but I think that maybe the only thing that remains a real obstacle for me is complete muscle atrophy. Between my illness, the pregnancy, and my c-section, I sometimes feel like I don't have a muscle in my body that works. I still have to use my hands to lift my feet into the car. When I'm really tired (like wee-hour feedings of Little Miss), I still careen around the house a bit. My back is so weak, spasming and sore, sometimes I can't get up out of a chair with Abby Jane in my arms. This is why I am so looking forward to working out. Anyway, I'll let you know how it goes. They've told me that I can bring Abby -- that ought to be interesting. I'm looking for a sitter, but haven't found one yet.

We just enjoyed a long holiday visit with S & R. There are strange and difficult things about being non-custodial parents, and they get stranger when you add a non-stepchild into the mix. S, my 6-year-old stepdaughter, was trying to figure out yesterday why her baby sister, Caitlin (her mother's new baby with her second husband) was not related in any way to her new baby sister, Abby. Not stepsisters? Not half sisters or cousins? Maybe S has it right; maybe there should be some kind of "village" mentality that acknowledges that we are all related in some ways.

The Best Reason I've Heard

Our 4-year-old, R, recently informed us he has a girlfriend in his preschool class. Why does he like little Alexa? "Because she laughs when I laugh."

Butter . . . Duh

Isn't she adorable? AJ loves the Christmas tree. I have to say, though, I was right; we have not gotten another full night's sleep since Abby accomplished that a few nights ago. And lately, her evenings are characterized by fussiness, alternating comatose sleep (with weird, exorcist-baby eyes rolling up in her head) with inconsolable screaming and peaceful, eyes-open near-smiling. Right now I am so tired that I could go to bed immediately. I suspect, however, that my daughter is going to be up again in 40 minutes or so for more eating. (It's 8 p.m. right now.) After that I can go to bed. Dave would spell me while I went upstairs right now, but he is out for his annual steakhouse dinner with the guys. So it's just me and the girl right now. I'll make up some more bottles, then feed her one, and then strap on the Bjorn and take her upstairs. I hope that tonight I avoid the horrible nightmares I've been having lately.

Has anyone noticed that there are now more commercials for video games than for movies? My friend Brett, the video-game developer, probably finds that gratifying at least to the extent that his business is booming. Or, perhaps this is a skewed view I have because I watch Tivo'd reruns of Star Trek that're on in the middle of the night. I also see a lot of promos for "Girls Gone Wild" and such.

I'm reading A Year of Roses, which was a Christmas gift from D. I love it. I've decided I want to try to grow roses, and this book is a classic, that breaks down rose growing into months, explaining what you need to do in each month. I have since found out that it's tough to grow roses in Maryland because of our long, hot, humid summers, and our frequent freeze/thaw cycles with little snow in the winter. I'm sure I'll do great, considering I have exactly 3 houseplants that haven't died and that really has nothing to do with me, as opposed to D. Anyway, the book is well-written and interesting, with old-fashioned hand-drawn botanical illustrations.

Product review: Williams-Sonoma does these wonderful frozen croissants and pains au chocolat . . . you just put them out overnight to rise and bake them in the morning. They are decadent and fabulous. I'm going to put a plain croissant out right now. Then I just microwave some milk (approximating steaming, when I'm too lazy to turn on the espresso machine) and add decaf coffee for a faux cafe au lait. For some reason, Starbuck's (those that still serve them) have started calling plain croissants "butter croissants." Isn't that like calling a Hershey bar a "chocolate Hershey bar"? A bit redundant? Are consumers really this unworldly?

I could be grouchy because I'm so tired. Maybe I'll go have one of the pizzelles D made, to try to wake up.

I miss my blogging buddies. Come home soon!