A Perfect Fit

No matter how old she gets or how much she grows, Babykins always seems to be the perfect fit for my arms.  When she was first born, I thought that as she got bigger, it would be more and more difficult to pick her up and cuddle her.  With each new size, though, it seems that we automatically find a new and effortless way to fit together.

Yesterday, Babykins woke up from her nap but was still looking tired.  I picked her up from her crib hoping that she would fall back asleep.  As I lifted her, she positioned herself so that she was perfectly settled in my arms, legs and arms tucked up, head on my shoulder and snuggled under my chin.  She gave a little wiggle to burrow in, then closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep. 

As I looked at her little sleeping face, it hit me that, despite being a big 10-monther, Babykins is still really just a baby, and no matter how big she gets, we'll always be a perfect fit.

The Stair Master

Yesterday afternoon we took Babykins to the Children's Discovery Center.  Although the Center's web site says it's best for children ages 2-10, Babykins' curiosity just can't be contained by our apartment anymore, so we decided to give it a try.

We knew it would be great when we set Babykins down in the first room and she took off at a near run, holding Mommykins' hand on one side and Daddykins' hand on the other.  This is one of her favorite ways to walk these days, and one that we find particularly sweet. 

After a stop at the tongue-shaped sliding board, a ride in a wheel chair, and a pit stop to knock over a Lego tower, Babykins discovered her favorite toy at the Center - the stairs.  Living in an apartment, Babykins very rarely runs into stairs, so when we saw the multi-level set that led to the second floor, we prepared to carry her up.  Babykins jumped right into the challenge, though, taking the steps one after the other without a pause.

By the time we got to the top (a good 40 stairs later!), Hubbykins and I were amazed that Babykins had made it the whole way.  Even more amazing, instead of continuing into the next activity room, she turned right around and tried to climb back down the stairs.  We may have been tired from the climb, but she was ready to do it all over again!

It was fun to see Babykins make the climb, but it's made us very glad to live in a house without stairs. 

Dear God

Dear God,

Thank you for:

• My opposable thumbs.  Without them, I couldn't push all the buttons in the elevator.
• My strong hands, that I use to tear up all the magazines in the house.
• My climbing ability, that allowed me yesterday to climb onto a box of diapers and finally reach the light switch! (And thank you for Mama's strong heart, so she didn't keel over when she caught me!)
• My fantastic lungs.  If they were smaller, Mama and Daddy might not hear me call at night!
• My stroller.  Auntie MO told me it's important to meet my adoring subjects in person at least once a day.
• The Milk Machines.  I know I've thanked you for them before, but lately Mama's been saying the word "weaned" and looking at me.  I have a bad feeling about this...
• Gravity.  It makes throwing my food over the side of the high chair so much more fun :)
• My lack of teeth.  It gives me a good excuse not to eat the meat Mama keeps trying to feed me.
• My cute, cute smile.  It gets me out of so much trouble!

Love,
Babykins

Mimimimi

Babykins and I spend approximately 50 hours each week having intense together time.  As a result, I'm always on the look out for new and exciting ways to keep her entertained.  Along with the many toys and books Babykins has, almost every plastic kitchen tool I own has served as a play thing, as well as boxes of tissues, a roll of toilet paper, and many piles of laundry.

Last week, as I was lying on the floor letting Babykins crawl back and forth over my legs, I suddenly flashed back to a happy memory of a childhood game.  I remember being 4 or 5, sitting on the floor next to Grandpa P, and he would pretend to fall asleep, closing his eyes and fake snoring, "Mimimimi."  I would laugh, shake his shoulder, and call his name (which at that age I knew only as "Grandpa" - I was still years away from realizing he had an actual name) trying to wake him up.  After a few seconds he would suddenly open his eyes wide, and the game could begin all over again.

Although Babykins is only 10 months old, I thought I'd give the game a try with her.  I waited until she was looking at me, closed my eyes, and said, "Mimimimi."  I fake snored a few more times, then peeked an eye open to see her response.  She was sitting there smiling, flapping her arms in her "I'm excited" motion.  I closed my eye, snored again, and felt her little hand on my face.  When I popped open my eyes, she sat back and laughed in delight.

It's become a favorite game for Babykins.  I can lie down on the floor, close my eyes, say "Mimimimi," and she'll come crawling from anywhere in the room to push on my face and wake me up.  Thank you, Grandpa P, for the happy memories and new game inspiration.

The Spoon/Tub Correlation

This week, Babykins acquired her own collection of bowls, spoons, and forks.  They're plastic, brightly colored, and directly responsible for an increase in our water bill.

The first time I put a bowl of yogurt on Babykins tray and handed her a spoon, she immediately dipped it into the bowl, brought it to her mouth, and sucked off the yogurt!  Granted, it was the handle end of the spoon she was sucking on, but I was still very proud of her coordination.

The only down-side is that the more often Babykins feeds herself, the more often she ends up in the bath tub.  We're currently at 2 baths a day, one after breakfast and one after dinner.  In an effort to not turn her into a wrinkly prune, I've stopped feeding her anything even slightly messy at lunch. 

Tonight she had pureed mangos, Cheerios, an apple slice, and string cheese for dinner.  By the end of the meal, her face, tummy, arms, and legs were all covered with mangos, Cheerios were stuck to her chest, and apple pieces lined her leg.  As we carried her straight from her high chair to the tub, pieces of cheese fell from her body, leaving a trail of dinner down the hallway.

It's an exciting new phase of of Babykin's development, and one that the water company is thrilled we've reached.  Next week's activity: inventing the full-body bib.

Diabolical Designs

The older Babykins gets, the more fun it is to watch her thought process as she goes about her day.  Now that she's almost 10 months old, Babykins understands the word "No."  Although with a 30 second attention span, she's very likely to make another go at the forbidden activity within minutes of hearing that word.

Babykins is well aware, however, that the power cords behind the TV stand are off limits.  We've told her "No," moved her away from them, redirected her, and given her enough stern looks that she actually remembers day-to-day that she's not supposed to play with them.  I can understand, though, that sometimes the tempation is just too much for a little girl.

This weekend Babykins felt the overwhelming need to play with the cords, but this time she decided to be clever about it.  As I watched quietly from the kitchen, Babykins crawled over to the TV stand and pulled herself up to standing.  She reached up, grabbed a plastic tube she likes to play with, and stood for a second looking at it in her hand.  I could practically see the wheels turning in her head as she inched toward the back of the TV stand and casually dropped the tube down amongst the cords.

Having now given herself a legitimate reason to reach back there, she slowly put hand behind the stand.  For a second, I thought maybe it was an accident and she really was going to get her tube.  Babykins quickly proved me wrong, though, diverting from the tube to grab hold of the cords and give a good yank.

At this point, I decided it was time to intervene, although I was trying so hard not to laugh it was almost impossible to put on a serious face.  I called "No" from the kitchen, and Babykins quickly moved her hand off the cord and looked innocently at me, as if to ask, "What's wrong, Mama?  I'm just retrieving this toy I dropped."

Babykins had outsmarted me once again.  Babykins: 1 gazillion, Mama: 0

Next Time You're in Japan...

On an island where most babies are Asian or Islander and the majority of tourists are from Japan, Babykins' pale skin, light blond hair, and blue eyes stand out as a major novelty.  We've gotten used to strangers stopping us to ohh and ahh over Babykins, squealing in delight when she beams a smile.  For her part, Babykins has perfected the "smile and shy", where she gives her admirer a big smile, then turns her head to the side, pretending to be shy.  When they laugh and proclaim her cute, she turns her head back and rewards them with another smile.  Meanwhile, Hubbykins and I have learned to build in an extra 15 minutes of "Babykins Adoration Time" to any trip.

What still amazes me, though, is the number of tourists who want to take Babykins picture.  Now, I'll admit that Hubbykins and I have taken north of 1,000 pictures since Babykins was born 9 months ago.  But we're her parents.  I can just imagine the tourists back home showing off pictures of their trip to Hawaii, then coming to the picture of Babykins and saying, "And here is the cutest baby I've ever seen."  A bit odd.

But what's even stranger is the paparazzi-like quality this phenomenon has taken on.  In the beginning, it was just the occasional tourist walking up to me and asking if it was ok to take Babykins' picture.  Then the other day as Babykins and I waited to cross the street, I noticed a tourist on one of the tour trolleys taking Babykins picture as they drove by.  It reached epic proportions, though, at the farmer's market last week.

Babykins and I were waiting at a veggie stand when I noticed a woman surreptitiously pull out her phone and snap a picture.  I looked up and realized that all of her companions had also pulled out cameras and phones to take Babykins's picture.  At this point, a tourist standing next to us asked to take a picture, and by the time we finally got away, at least 15 people had snapped shots - most of them discreetly using a phone and trying to look casual.

I appreciate that Babykins is the cutest baby ever, but this is getting out of hand.  I'm starting to get a sneaking suspicion that one day we'll take a trip to Japan and see Babykins' picture on every billboard advertisement in Tokyo.

BSL

A few months ago, we started working on "Baby Sign Language" with Babykins.  This is basically normal sign language, but focused on the words most important to your baby - think "mommy," "daddy," and "diaper".  The hope is that long before your baby's able to talk, he or she will be able to understand your signs and even make a few herself.

We stopped working on this when it became clear that Babykins was still too young to control her hands, but recently she seems to be developing her own version.  Call it "Babykins Sign Language."  Some of the signs are obvious.  When Babykins wants something, she reaches toward it, then opens and closes her hand.  When she likes something, she waves both arms quickly up and down. 

Some of the signs, unfortunately, are a little embarassing.  Lately, when Babykins wants to nurse, she's started climbing onto my lap and sucking on any exposed flesh she can find.  My arm, shoulder, and neck have all suffered.  And if that doesn't get my attention fast enough, she'll start slobbering on my chest, leaving large wet marks on my shirt.  This is all fine and dandy at home, but something I'd happily avoid in public.

Luckily, Babykins is starting to recognize the symbol for milk (a sign that unfortunately looks like you're milking a cow).  Fingers crossed she learns how to make the sign herself soon.