Carrots! She loves carrots!

But why won't she sleep for more than two hours at a time?

This weekend she finally meets S's boy, J. Who I hear weighs 20 lbs. He's a week older than Miss Eva. We are also having a visit with my Aunt M and Uncle J, who are camping near here.

We love adventures!

I figured the picture of the farmer and the cow with the words Milking in Progress on the sign on my door would be clue not to come in. Nope. When I heard the knock, I did not respond because I couldn't think of what to say in that split second that would be nice but also could in no way be interpreted as come on in. Which he did. Total stranger. His eyes went straight the horns of course, and then he just stood there, looking around my office (he's with the alarm company and I am sure he was looking for my motion detector, because once he saw it, he shut the door. ) That is, after he IGNORED my shut the door! Shut the door! for about 20 seconds. Which is a LONG time to have your nipples getting sucked into plastic tubes in a stranger's company.

Invisible

In that picture of Bill and Eva from yesterday's post...

I see: My wonderful husband and darling baby girl
The world sees: A sexy sex machine and his product

In the picture of me and Eva...

I see: how much my daughter looks like me, and that I look pretty slim at that angle.
The world sees: the baby

Which makes me invisible and my husband irresistible. We observed this at the Chew Chew. Women were checking out Bill left and right. Yes, they would also look at Eva, but there was deifinite acknowledgement of the hunk a hunk of burnin' love carrying her. In my experience pre-baby, a man lovingly holding/parenting a small child was an aphrodisiac like no other...I would actually feel a little hormone rush, no doubt some primitive "Him father, him sperm work, must mate" holdover. I am sure I am not alone, based on the looks that went from baby to his face, to other parts of him.

But when I am carrying her? People don't look at me, and they sure as hell don't talk to me. Especially not men. Now, don't get me wrong, strangers run over all the time, but it is all ABOUT HER. And do you know how I know who my true friends are? They're the ones who always manage to find a way to say I'm looking good even when I am holding the Junior Miss. Because they know, I am now invisible. It's very odd. As a woman, I was used to a number of stares (and occasional more subtle glances) at my face, my ass, or my tits when in a crowd. Now, no me look at me if the baby is close enough to be identified as mine.

Which leads me to ask, how long will this go on? I know it must end eventually, or we would not have the modern phenomenom we know (and love or love to hate): the MILF.

What a weekend! Saturday was spent lolling around, gardening, and trying on Eva's pdf. We thought we might go boating on Sunday, but at the last minute Bill suggested taking the ferry over to Burlington. So that is what we did.





















We planned on the earliest ferry (9ish) but after much rushing on my part and then waiting for Bill, we were cutting it close, so we decided to get the papers, go for a drive and catch the next boat. Which is what we did. We were planning on just going to ECHO, but we ran into the G family on the ferry and they told us they were hitting the Chew Chew Festival (FOOD!) so we added that to our agenda too. The ferry ride was gorgeous. Unlike the rest of the northeast, we had great weather this weekend.

First, the museum. I expected Eva would treat a museum like she treats a book. She enjoys it for the page licking, but not for the story or pictures. We figured she like to slurp on the aquarium glass, but not care what was on the other side. Wrong. She was TOTALLY engaged by the fish and the turtles (including the stinkpot who tried to bite her little fingers through the glass...) Bill managed to lure her attention away in ONE shot. There was much nose wrinkling and panting (a sign of happiness), accompanied by squealing and swinging legs (a sigh of joy.)

















Then the Chew Chew, where mama and daddy exhibited similar behaviors. We ate SO MUCH. $30 worth of food in $1.50 sized portions. Ribs. Chicken Roti. Alligator Bites. Sweet potato fries. Lemonade. Ice Cream. Sorbet. Root beer floats. Hot dogs. Spanakopita in a pita. Samosas. Some other stuff I don't even remember. Oh! Crabcakes. Conch fritters.

And then it was naptime.

Best. Sunday. Ever. In spite of my sunburn.

In general, "I'm not good at it" is never a great rationalization for not doing something. But it just doesn't fly when you are a parent. And here's where I complain about my beloved husband:

Last night I asked him to feed the Junior Miss. I had been working from home all day and was in the middle of making our dinner when he came home from fishing. He asked to eat "soon" and I said we would, and it would be sooner if he fed our beloved pixie elf. Feeding, in this instance, is cereal from a spoon. "No," he said. "I'm not good at it." Keep in mind, he's attempted to feed her once (this way: he has given her bottles in the past and is a pro at that...). We've only being doing cereal for a week or so. Who's "good at it?" Not me! Not the Junior Miss! I asked again. he said no and wandered off to do something else.

So when he came in ten minutes later and observed the little one (and me) covered in cereal, he was really looking for trouble when he asked if she should be wearing a bib. (she was wearing only a diaper.) The man really came close to being showered with rice cereal, which is mighty sticky when it dries.

He pulled the same BS with bathtime, so I showed him how to do it. Again. he will be bathing her soon. After she was in bed, I finally got over being mad at my dolt, I mean, husband. We talked and he said I should have put my foot down over feeding her. Obviously being a bitch and giving the cold shoulder wasn't a strong enough message to him...

Sigh.

Now that she goes to bed at 8:30, we are enjoying a full hour and a half alone together...when people don't drop by or call...Last night at 10 we headed to bed, both tired. The minute our heads hit pillows we were wide awake. When this happens we turn into giggly fools. A favorite game is for Bill to move his hand toward some ticklish part of me and for me to freak out before he even touchs it. Then, after I have shrieked and laughed, I tell him "SHHHHHHHHH!" then he laughs. I swear, we act as if Miss Eva is going to punish US if she hears us. (she's still in our room.)

What a whirlwind week/weekend! By Saturday afternoon Eva was beat. She did rally after this to play with her great grandma, but in that moment she was like a drooling lead weight on me. Our schedule was like this...

Wednesday

Get up, finish packing, work in the fly shop for Bill while he went to the bank, drive to CT, conference call, dinner, bedtime

Thursday

Up at the crack of dawn, to the train, meeting in NYC (Eva plays with Grandma!), train back to CT, dinner, bedtime

Friday

Up at the crack again, back to sleep til later than I had planned, drive to B'ville to visit Sadie Lou friends with Eva Lou, wine and delicious lunch with S., back to CT, to DSW for sandals, dinner, bed

Saturday

Famous Footwear (still no sandals), Lowe's, Linens and Things, KB Toys, Kohl's, back to my mom's, Babies r us, lunch, mall, my grandma's, back to mom's for dinner with the grandma's (mine and eva's), bed

Sunday

Crack of dawn, drive home, clean house, laundry, dinner out for Father's Day, collapse.

Seriously, the only sitting time was in the car or on the train!

Two Phone Calls

#1

M: I'm stressing out.
B: What's going on?
M: My car shakes like crazy when I'm stopped.
B: Oh.
M: Well???What is it? I'm freaking out!
B: It's probably the alternator
M: Is that expensive?
B: Like three hundred bucks.
M: I need a new car. What if it's my transmission? It felt like it was going to die!
B: Well it probably didn't need the new battery.
M: Oh geez. I'm stressing!
B: Call your mechanic then, you big freak!
M: Oh, my car is there.
B: Then why are you asking me what's wrong with it?
M: Is it my transmission? Should I just go buy a new car?
B: OH. MY. GOD. I bet it is! It's going to cost us so much money and we will starve to death and have to burn our furniture for heat.
M: It's summer. I am gonna call him now and see what's wrong.
B: Good Idea!
M: Shut up! Help me not stress out!
B: Just call him...

#2
M: Guess what it was?
B: JUst tell me.
M: Guess!
B: No.
M: Wrong! It was the spark plugs! He says I'll get better fuel economy now.
B: Yeah, but you'll never get rid of those gray hairs you sprout all morning.


Please let the Junior Miss inherit Bill's easygoing non-stressing nature. But maybe let her inherit the tiny part of me that stresses, just so she'll be able to remember to pay her bills.

I swear to god, I get wound a little tighter with each passing year. Perhaps I should quit lobbying for sex ed and switch to trying to get Xanax put into the drinking water.

And after cereal comes boating...Here we have Eva yelling man overboard!















Please don't tell her she was on dry land the whole time. It ruins the excitement.

So this is how we eat cereal! Someone is a real independent gal!

We did it. Don't tell Dr. C, but we gave her CEREAL. And it did not get everywhere, and she loved it, and she wrestled her spoon from my hand and she cried for more when it was all gone. We did take pictures, but I forgot to bring the camera in to upload them.

The Junior Miss is now five months old. FIVE. She woke me up to 2am to celebrate, proving a.) that she's a party animal and b.) that cereal does NOT eliminate night wakings.

She also likes to be worn as a hat by her parents. But only with her feet hanging in front of their faces, not the other way. The other way is NO GOOD.

Eva is so excited that her Grams is coming and she doesn't even know it. Grams will be regaling Miss Eva with tales of Italia, and I am sure they will make plans for some outing during our vacation in July, which will be spent at her house in Greenport. And I am so excited her Grams is coming. I know I am extremely lucky in the mother in law department, but I can't even begin to explain what a good friend and support E. is to me. She's also one of very few people that understand who Bill is in the way I do. (Maybe the only other is his sister, L.) I really need her right now, and of course she is coming. I am sure that sometime I will write about WHY I (we) need her right now, but I haven't talked about it to all everyone I need to yet (and I can't just have them read about it here), so you all have to wait. Nothing major, don't worry.

And to add to the excitement, next week Eva will see her Grandma! And her great-grandma!

The HPV vaccine was approved, and you can see me talking about it on the local (to me) news tonight! Unless, of course, you don't get my local NBC, in which case, too bad! This vaccine protects against four strains of HPV, two that cause warts and two that cause 70% of cervical cancers, so this is a real breakthrough, and when Eva's about 9, she'll get vaccinated. Yay for cancer prevention!

This is step two in our bedtime routine. Step one is a walk and/or vigorous play with Daddy (involving screaming and flying through the air, usually.) She really likes her bath, but it's hard to capture a smile with a $150 digital camera, it just doesn't move quickly enough. After this we oil her up with Bert's Bees Baby Oil (yummmmmmmy) and put her in her jammies and read a book, if there is not sufficient eye rubbing, or skip to eating, if there is.

Last night she slept from 8:30 until 5. What a treat!

This pretty much sums up our whole weekend. (Note to child safety police: she did not actually nap on the chair, she's too rolly for that. She was just placed there for a moment before moving to the car seat for a trip to the post office.) On Saturday, Junior Miss and I slept for three hours on my bed. She woke me up with a not so gentle hair tug.

Last night Bill and I were discussing whether or not men like to hold babies. Maybe it is sexist of me, but I just assumed non-related men have no interest in holding the Junior Miss. However, I would say that about a third of the folks who have held her have been men, and that's because about a third of the folks she's met have been men. The holders ARE often Dads themselves, but the age of their own offspring has no correlation to the likelihood of holding. Bill says that while it's not true in general that men like to hold babies, (at least he was never given that page in the Man Book), but that it is true that our Eva specifically is quiet holdable, and gives off a non-vulnerable non-wobbly baby vibe that reassures men.

And also, the way her sweater looks in this picture makes me think of Dolly Parton. My daughter is not that well endowed. Which makes the above paragraph feel kind of creepy.

This morning Eva's sitter and I watched as her cat climbed onto the hood of my car, up the wind shield to the roof, and in the driver's side window onto the front seat. Smart cat. He must have known that today would be a busy day at his house. If I were the sitter (A.), I would have long since gone insane. She has three smaller kids of her own (the youngest is 4 and declared herself "Eva Louise's goodest girl friend") plus a menagerie of day care kids that seems to change daily. (Really, other than Eva she has two full time families: one is a set of twins and the other three siblings. And then some after and before school kids...) A's house is chaos. It makes me crazy, but Eva (and all the other kids) seem to be really happy and loved. A's parenting style is grossly different from mine, and so when Eva is older I don't see it being a good match. But for now it works. BUT I still hope that Book Club pal K. goes ahead with doing day care at her house in the fall...because honestly, she is THE mother. She's really awesome with her two kidlets and such a sweet and caring and brilliant woman. So let's hope together!