Airplane

After working out Cosmo at the dog park, Hottie Friend worked out a bit herself with Pequita in the parking lot.

It's been a long time

Commenting

Hottie Friend pointed out that I asked folks to de-lurk and then didn't respond. Not true! I have many lovely things to say to each commenter, it has just taken me a few days to carve out the time. As it is, I am perched over the laptop which is on the heat stove in the living room (the only Pequita-proof spot) with Monito in a sling, his gajillionth spit up since the last feeding coursing hotly down my leg - and he's still rooting for more - while Pequita plays with her first ever birthday gift, a car that makes noises from Homestead Mama's father. H-Mama and her dad are upstairs installing the lead-free doors; they look lovely. Monito has turned a corner and is sitting and standing with less and less aid. He's also increasingly vocal. Just look at what Hottie Friend can elicit:

We found the source of the elevated lead in Pequita's blood. That is a post-in-progress, and it will be up shortly. Suffice it to say that it wasn't the doors, but we are pleased with the newer healthier version anyway.

Birth class (redux)

Homestead Mama and I attended the abbreviated version of birthing class this past Saturday. (Before her birth, as complete novices, we did the 6-week course.) This one was a 4-hour yoga based class taught by a local yoga teacher who also teaches the prenatal yoga class I attended until I was unable to lay on the floor. To be accurate, I could lay on the floor beautifully, I just can't get up OFF the floor without assistance. My bones settle as my relaxin-affected
tendons stretch, and it is most painful trying to hoist myself off a hard surface. Hysterically funny to watch, by the response I get from Homestead Mama and others, but excruciating.

Saturday was a gorgeous day here, and the windows were open on Yoga Teacher's second floor loft space. They overlook our town's central pedestrian square, with coffee shops, boutiques, restaurants, art and fountains. There was a hippie ensemble playing music the whole afternoon and the faint sounds of banjo, guitar and harmonica wafted in as a soundtrack for the class. It was lovely. There were seven couples attending, and the mood was jovial and excited. We learned comfy, supportive poses to utilize in labor. (Yes, I know, 'comfy' and 'in labor' don't belong in the same sentence. Humor me - I only have a few weeks of denial left.) We had facilitated discussions about our (perceived) greatest challenges - mine? Clearly, that I will be trying to take care of everyone else in the birthing room. Homestead Mama's? That she will fail me, be too nervous to support me in the way I need. Good to know - both seem manageable. We did actually learn some positions that seemed like they'd work for me. With my left ankle fused at 90 degrees, many of the squat/kneeling/floor positions are difficult without special support, which we addressed. I will have some special props, but ought to be ok.

Midway through class we got a text message from Hottie Friend, who had graciously taken time out of her busy end-of-semester schedule to care for Pequita. She sent some photos to assure us that the kid was still thriving and happy, and enjoying her first ever hammock experience. I have come to rely on these visual updates, and love the reassurance that the kid is ok, but more importantly that she loves her Auntie. And her tongue, which makes an appearance in the second picture.


We left the class and grabbed a quick bite of sushi to fortify our tired bodies. It was absolutely delicious - we haven't had fish since before Pequita was born to avoid the mercury in everything. The recent reports are that there is little to no harm for pregnant women to eat sushi as long as it is fresh, so we indulged with vigor. Then off to pick up our by now cranky baby, and home for a long night of birth talk and rest.

Car seats

My 1991 Volvo wagon, my beloved car, started having trouble on my way to work this morning, complete with burning rubber smell and awful sounds. I pulled over, called Homestead Mama who was only a couple miles on her way to work, and called for a tow. She stopped by the house to pick up breakfast for us since we had a little wait for the roadside service folks to arrive, and came and waited with me. The tow guy hauled away my car on the flatbed truck (since the wheels turning made the smoke happen) and she dropped me off at work. Hottie Friend agreed to come fetch me after work and pick up Pequita from daycare - this means we needed to finally get the extra car seat I bought installed in her car.



I get all my carseat installation help from the local University police, since they are close by, very accomodating to our schedules, and completely adorable. It is a pair of older gentlemen, both of whom had to sit through 40 hours of training to be licensed to install infant seats. One of them became a great-grandfather 3 weeks ago, the other is in his 60s. In their nice business suits, they crawl around in the backseats of our cars (dog hair and all) leaning all their weight on the carseats to affix them firmly in place, all the while keeping up a running commentary on the safety features. It is good that we did this today - they told me that Pequita is within a pound or two of needing to upgrade to a convertible or toddler seat - Little Miss 90th percentile! I had no idea.



So now Hottie Friend is having visions of springing Pequita from daycare early with some regularity to go down to the lakefront for stroller walks while Homestead Mama and I are at work. This is GREAT for us all, since Pequita loves to do this, and the less time in daycare the better. While I hope Hottie Friend gets a high paying job very soon after graduating in a few weeks, if she doesn't, she might have a little free time to play with the baby and now she can do so independently of us. Pequita is hitting the beginning of her stranger anxiety stage, so the more exposure to non-mom people the better. Boston Grandma & Grandpa stayed with us over the weekend, and were a bit of a shock to her - it took her a full day to warm up to my mom, and 2 days to smile at my dad.



We keep a sunhat for her in diaper bag now, after our unprepared first foray into the spring outdoors on Friday, when everyone got a little pink. She looks like a little dork in it, but all the experts say that she has to be kept from sun exposure for 2 years. Too bad berets don't offer enough sun protection - she looks very cute in those.