Brent: A what?
Me: You know. A Mitchell. Like Jen's dad. She looks like Mike.
Brent: Oh. Yeah. I see that.
Me: It's the Mitchell side. Maybe it's the finger.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Wearing Daddy's Glasses
Me: She looks like a Mitchell.
Brent: A what?
Me: You know. A Mitchell. Like Jen's dad. She looks like Mike.
Brent: Oh. Yeah. I see that.
Me: It's the Mitchell side. Maybe it's the finger.
Brent: A what?
Me: You know. A Mitchell. Like Jen's dad. She looks like Mike.
Brent: Oh. Yeah. I see that.
Me: It's the Mitchell side. Maybe it's the finger.
Month Eight
Dear Maren,
This week you turn eight months old and you've just mastered your own unique version of the crawl. You can scoot yourself around the house at will. We've discovered the best motivation to get you to demonstrate this new skill is to place one of Oliver's toys within sight. It becomes like a military operation. You sight the target, lock it in your radar and attack. All of your colorful fluffy toys pale in comparison to the fantastic-ness of Oliver's toys. Just yesterday I sat you in the middle of the room surrounded by your favorite toys so I could run to the bathroom. When I came back 10 seconds later you were across the room devouring Oliver's racquetball. Gross!
The doctor assures us it wasn't the ingestion of dog germs that caused your first fever last week. Nor was it exposure to germs in the community pool. Your dad and I were trying to identify the source of your illness so we could NEVER DO THAT AGAIN! Apparently, the fever, the vomiting and the heat rash were due to a bout of bad luck. One of those things that's out of our control. Go figure. I thought we controlled everything.
Last week the three of us went to a meeting with the DJ that's going to rock our wedding reception. I was in the middle of describing how I thought the father/daughter dance would play out when out of the blue Brent grabbed my hand to shove my finger in your mouth. I was sitting there talking to the DJ, thinking your dad had lost his mind. Then you started gnawing my finger and I realized it was no longer the soft baby gumming. I felt a hard jagged edge protruding from your gum. Your first tooth! Or, as your Aunt Mary would say, you have your first toother!
We're still pureeing all of your food but the menu has expanded from just rice cereal, avocado, and sweet potato to include green beans, peas, and lentils. You love the green veggies but the lentils don't yet have your vote.
Breakfast is such a time of discovery. Who knew? Not only discovering new foods, but new body parts. I buckled you in to your high chair for breakfast last week and noticed you discovered your fingers. You've been aware of your hand for some time, but just recently you recognized that you have multiple digits capable of operating in a coordinated fashion. You hold your arms out to the side so your hands are at eye level and rotate your wrists in a circular motion. The speed of rotation indicates your level of enthusiasm.
Maren, you're crawling, you're swimming, you're teething, you're getting sick, you're experiencing so many new things. It reminds me of one of our favorite books. We're Going on a Bear Hunt. Whether the journey is good, bad, happy, or sad...remember:
"We're goin' on a bear hunt.
We're gonna catch a big one.
What a beautiful day!
We're not scared."
And then something unexpected happens:
"We can't go over it.
We can't go under it.
We've got to go through it!"
We'll get through it all together. I'm loving the ride.
Love,
Mama
This week you turn eight months old and you've just mastered your own unique version of the crawl. You can scoot yourself around the house at will. We've discovered the best motivation to get you to demonstrate this new skill is to place one of Oliver's toys within sight. It becomes like a military operation. You sight the target, lock it in your radar and attack. All of your colorful fluffy toys pale in comparison to the fantastic-ness of Oliver's toys. Just yesterday I sat you in the middle of the room surrounded by your favorite toys so I could run to the bathroom. When I came back 10 seconds later you were across the room devouring Oliver's racquetball. Gross!
The doctor assures us it wasn't the ingestion of dog germs that caused your first fever last week. Nor was it exposure to germs in the community pool. Your dad and I were trying to identify the source of your illness so we could NEVER DO THAT AGAIN! Apparently, the fever, the vomiting and the heat rash were due to a bout of bad luck. One of those things that's out of our control. Go figure. I thought we controlled everything.
Last week the three of us went to a meeting with the DJ that's going to rock our wedding reception. I was in the middle of describing how I thought the father/daughter dance would play out when out of the blue Brent grabbed my hand to shove my finger in your mouth. I was sitting there talking to the DJ, thinking your dad had lost his mind. Then you started gnawing my finger and I realized it was no longer the soft baby gumming. I felt a hard jagged edge protruding from your gum. Your first tooth! Or, as your Aunt Mary would say, you have your first toother!
We're still pureeing all of your food but the menu has expanded from just rice cereal, avocado, and sweet potato to include green beans, peas, and lentils. You love the green veggies but the lentils don't yet have your vote.
Breakfast is such a time of discovery. Who knew? Not only discovering new foods, but new body parts. I buckled you in to your high chair for breakfast last week and noticed you discovered your fingers. You've been aware of your hand for some time, but just recently you recognized that you have multiple digits capable of operating in a coordinated fashion. You hold your arms out to the side so your hands are at eye level and rotate your wrists in a circular motion. The speed of rotation indicates your level of enthusiasm.
Maren, you're crawling, you're swimming, you're teething, you're getting sick, you're experiencing so many new things. It reminds me of one of our favorite books. We're Going on a Bear Hunt. Whether the journey is good, bad, happy, or sad...remember:
"We're goin' on a bear hunt.
We're gonna catch a big one.
What a beautiful day!
We're not scared."
And then something unexpected happens:
"We can't go over it.
We can't go under it.
We've got to go through it!"
We'll get through it all together. I'm loving the ride.
Love,
Mama
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Saturday, July 17, 2010
On the Move
Maren's figuring out how to get around. One day I turned around and she was up on her knees rocking back and forth. She's not quite coordinated enough for the crawl but she has multiple variations that propel her in the direction she wants to go. Sometimes she'll balance herself on her hands and toes with her butt straight up in the air. Girls got some moves.
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