If Only, If Only...

As ruling princess of our house, Babykins has come to think that all things should work exactly as she wants.  Which is why she's very confused about why some of her greatest dreams just won't come true.  For example, two nights ago Babykins was fussing in her crib.  I went in to check on what was wrong and found her with one pacifier in her mouth and one in her hand.  She was trying valiantly to get the second pacifier in her mouth, as well, but only succeeded in repeatedly banging it against the one she was already sucking on.  I took pity and removed the pacifier from her hand, at which point she quickly clamped both hands over the one in her mouth.

Her other big wish is to find a way to simultaneously nurse and suck her thumb.  No matter how many times she tries, though, all she succeeds in doing is dribbling milk out the side of her mouth.  Not only is she not accomplishing her goal, she's losing part of her dinner, as well :( 

Luckily, Babykins can take solace in the fact that she's very close to achieving another big milestone...she's just seconds away from crawling!  Keep dreaming big, Babykins.  You're on your way!

Welcome Back!

We have returned from our trip to Australia, and Babykins officially has stamps in her passport.  It was a great trip, and Babykins once again reminded us why she's the best baby in the world.  Not only are we proud of the things she did - smiled and cooed at friends and family, napped like a champ, ate her first bites of chicken, and behaved beautifully while being babysat - we're also proud of the things she didn't do.

First and foremost, unlike all of the other babies around us on the plane ride home, Babykins did not throw up.  After having toddlers in the rows directly in front and behind us do some serious throwing up, I've never been so proud of Babykins ability to keep her food in her tummy.  She also avoided public meltdowns and held off on developing stranger anxiety and crawling abilities (two milestones that often pop up around this age) while traveling in another country and on small, enclosed planes.

Thank you for a fabulous trip, Babykins!  You were brave, well-behaved, and (as one soon-to-be father put it) a good advertisement for having kids.  As a reward, we're giving you 17 days of R&R before we test you one more time on the flight to Pennsylvania.

If the Shoe Fits...

Or, more accurately, if the shoe doesn't fit.  Once again, Babykins has grown out of a set of clothes.  She's on the small side, so despite being a big, bad seven-monther, Babykins has been able to keep wearing her 3-6 month clothing.  Recently, however, Hubbykins and I have started to notice that her clothes are getting a bit tight.

Which means that for the third time in her 7 months, I find myself folding up a set of tiny clothes and putting them away.  Although it gets easier each time, I still find myself slightly sad that another phase of Babykins' babyhood is over.  She'll never again wear the cute red and white polka dot dress or the adorable jammies that I thought made her look like a sailor (and everyone else thought made her look like a convict).

On the plus side, I now get to pull out the next set of clothing, all fresh and new, and ready to adorn the cutest baby on the block.  Goodbye 6 month clothing, hello 9 monthers.

And a very Happy Thanksgiving to family and friends!  Gobble gobble!

Gray Hairs and Wrinkles

Motherhood, like the presidency, ages you.  Before Babykins was born, I always made sure to take my ID with me when I went to a bar or the liquor store.  While it was a (very big) stretch to think I wasn't 21, I at least looked like I could be in the range they should card.  Between sleepless nights and constant worry, though, it would now be no surprise that I'm rounding on 30.

Over the last couple weeks, Babykins has become increasingly mobile, quickly adding to the aging process.  She rolls, she bottom scoots, she crawls backwards.  She can't yet get anywhere fast, but she's deteremined.

Case in point...Yesterday Babykins was exhausted, but desperately fighting nap time.  I put her down on her bed (we're using a mattress on the floor next to our bed here in Australia) with her pacifier and told her I'd be back to check on her in a few minutes.  Five minutes later I open the door, and her bed is empty.

Within moments, I've had a heart attack, called her name, yelled for Hubbykins, and figured out where she is.  I bent down, pulled up the quilt on our bed, and there she is, on her tummy, pushed up on her arms with her head held high, pride in her eyes and a big smile on her face.  She had managed to roll herself off her mattress and all the way under the bed.

Hubbykins extraced her while I finished hyperventilating and grew a few more gray hairs.  A wonderful adventure for Babykins, and a warning to us that Babykins is on the move!

She Comes from a Land Down Under

Our little Babykins is Australmerican - half Australian, half American.  After 7 months of living in the U.S., we have taken her on her first trip to Australia.  On Friday we packed up our gear (all 3 of us packing into just 2 carry-ons and 2 personal items, thanks very much) and boarded Hawaiian Airlines for a 10 hour flight.

Here I have to admit...Babykins was by far the best baby on the plane!  She had a minor melt down toward the end of the flight, but after 10 straight hours stuffed into small seats and breathing recycled air, I was about ready to melt down, as well (although I managed not to cry).

Since arriving, she's met many of Hubbykins friends, along with new aunts, uncles, cousins, and her great-grandma.  She's been having a lovely time introducing herself to a new set of adoring subjects.  Who knew it could be so wonderful to have a set of, as Auntie MO would call them, minions on both sides of the globe.

This taste of travel has given Babykins a new inkling of her ability to slowly dominate the world, one cute smile at a time.  With the U.S. and Australia thoroughly conquered, she's starting to eye up small European countries.  Watch your back, Kate Middleton - Babykins has discovered it's nice to be Queen :)

Watch out Janis Joplin, here comes Babykins!

If you want to see a group of stay-at-home mommies get all riled up, mention that your baby said "dada" before "mama."  Yesterday, Babykins woke up from her nap and laid quietly whispering "dadadadada" the entire time I changed her diaper.  By that evening, she was saying it at full volume.  And this morning, it was the first thing she said when I picked her up from her crib.

I don't begrudge Hubbykins the"dadadas".  What I find funny, though, is that Babykins says "dada", as well as "bababa" and "wawawa", in a gravelly, "I've been smoking cigarettes and drinking whiskey my whole life" kind of voice.  If Babykins knew how to sing, she could give Janis Joplin a run for her money.

I suppose it shouldn't be too surprising, though.  Babykins was born in the year of the tiger, and she's been growling and roaring since she learned how to make noise.  Our little tiger prefers a good "grrr" to a high-pitched baby noise any day.

If They Taught This in High School Health Class...

Warning: If you're thinking about having a baby in the near future, I'd recommend skipping this posting.  If you know someone who is currently pregnant or taking care of a baby, stop reading this and go do something nice for her.

And now, to address the title of my blog. It comes from my continual thought that "If they taught this in high school health class, there'd be a lot less pregnant teenagers."  I'm thoroughly convinced that they teach all of the wrong things in high school health.  As I recall, the message went something like, "If you have sex, you will get pregnant, catch a disease, and possibly die."

A compelling argument, and one that worked on me, but it lacks immediacy for a lot of teens (especially since the advent of penicillin).  To fix this problem, schools used to have kids carry around a 5 pound sack of flour wrapped in a diaper to simulate parenthood (old school, yes - effective, no).  These days they have fancy babies that cry and move, and still completely fail to give teens the real parenthood experience.  So if I was in charge of high school health class, the curriculum would go something like this:

• Week 1: Feel nauseous, throw up a lot, and eat nothing but mac and cheese or pizza for all of your meals.  Cry when your favorite cereal runs out.  Get motion sickness, throw up in the car, and brush your teeth at Walmart.  Cry when the store doesn't have the item you want to buy.  Throw up every time you try to brush your teeth.  Cry when someone looks at you funny.
• Week 2: Try to go out for the evening.  Discover that none of your pants button.  Realize that you don't yet look pregnant, just fat.  Inform your husband you're never leaving the house again.
• Week 3: Gain 30 pounds.  Discover even your maternity clothes no longer fit.  Ask for help every time you want to get up from the sofa.  Run to the bathroom every 30 minutes day and night.
• Week 4: Attend a child birth class.  Discover all the incredibly disgusting things your body will do the weeks immediately after giving birth (I'll spare you the details here).
• Week 5: I'd suggest simulating the pain of childbirth, but that would be torture even by the Bush administration's standards.  Instead, stay up all night doing intense cardio.  Get handed a small baby simulator (BS) that doesn't care how tired you are.  Discover that your pre-maternity clothes still don't fit.
• Week 6: Wake up every 2 hours at night for a 1/2 hour feeding of baby simulator.  Have BS cry every 2 hours during the day.  Change diapers, feed BS, rock BS, give BS pacifier.  BS continues to cry.
• Week 7: Buy the wrong brand of diapers.  Wash poop out of 2 outfits each day.  Get thrown up on so many times you run out of clean shirts.  Do laundry, clean house, and cook meals during nap time.
• Week 8: Have BS throw up in store.  Wake up every 4 hours at night to feed BS.  Get peed on by BS while changing diapers.  Realize you don't care who sees your breasts in public, as long as BS stops crying and people in the grocery store stop staring at you like you're torturing her.
• Week 9: Turn in your baby simulator.  If you and baby have both survived, receive an "A".  If you look well rested, your makeup's done, and your hair is styled, receive an "F".  You obviously did not attend to your BS.

Republican presidents and the Pope, you can thank me later for solving the teen pregnancy problem.