Growing Girl

This is how Gerber packages its food for toddlers. One jar = one serving.



Annika's dinner the other night consisted of about a half-cup of peas and this:



Yes, the entire can (sans syrup). Just for comparison:



Plus random bits off of my plate when the rest of us ate dinner. Maybe she's hitting a growth spurt. And I'm sure that that many peaches must put hair on your...



Uh, never mind.



Don't you make fun of my hair!



And don't mess with my peaches. I mean it.

7 Quick Takes

--1--
Today is "Funky Hair Day" at Katrina's school. I am SO not good with hair, but I gave it my best shot and Katrina was happy, which is all that matters. It helps that we ran out to the 1 Euro store yesterday afternoon and found spray-on temporary hair color and hair glitter. There was a note on the hair color that it could stain blonde and fine hair. We did a test last night and it washed out, but I'll be crossing my fingers that she won't have red streaks for months to come.




--2--
I've finally instituted a regular afternoon nap for Annika. She had been napping at about 10 am and then not tired again until abut 2:30 or 3...which is when we have to go pick up Katrina from school. So the poor baby was cat-napping in the car or not napping at all in the afternoons. I picked up Weissbluth again and realized the problem was that the morning nap was too late. So, moved it back to between 9 and 9:30, and putting her back down at 2. I probably should try to move that back to 1:30 or so, but haven't gotten there yet.

She has stopped falling asleep on me, though, so it is books, bottle and singing, and then crib, with screaming. Unlike Katrina, Annika generally cries for about 5 minutes and then is OUT. Katrina had the capacity to cry for 30-45 minutes. It was awful, but we were out of options by the time we did it. (Around 12 months, as a matter of fact.)

Except for yesterday afternoon, when Annika cried for about 20 minutes before snoozing. Then I had to wake her to pick up Katrina and found Annika had pooped before falling asleep. Mean mommy.

--3--
Annika is also eating mostly table food now. I'm trying to keep her gluten free for a few more months yet (did the same with Katrina), which is actually difficult. Typical toddler food is bread and crackers and pasta. GF bread is really too dense for a baby. But GF spaghetti is downright yummy...and just as messy as regular spaghetti.




--4--
I'm recommitting to writing every day. Not necessarily here, although I do want to start posting more frequently. Since Annika's naps are more predictable now, and (ssshh! do not want to jinx it) she seems to be sleeping through the night with some regularity, I am less brain-fogged, as well. I do have a piece of fiction that I've been tinkering at on and off for a number of years, and I just want to see if there's anything there. Even if it's bad, I want to COMPLETE it. Completing things is a big deal, because I am a great idea person, and a great starter, but not so great with the follow through. 15 minutes a day writing, every weekday, during the morning nap. You heard it here. I managed three days this week. Ahem. But three is better than none!

--5--
We're looking for a bigger house to rent. Baby has moved from tucked into a corner of our room to tucked into a corner of hubby's office. Along with the guest bed. But we are particular as to where we want to move, either staying in the same town or moving into the same town as Katrina's school (where rentals go like hotcakes). It's a risk, as hubby's contract is kind of up in the air. But we've finally learned that hubby's contract is ALWAYS up in the air. We regret not moving when we had the chance last spring. But it seemed overwhelming at the time, to pregnant, anxiety-ridden me. So we're trying again. My wants are simple...for all the bedrooms to be on the same floor so I don't have to run down the steps in the middle of the night, and enough rooms so that baby doesn't have to bunk in with the computers.

--6--
Thanks to an AFN radio spot, I learned that the German Spargel is exactly the same plant as the American green asparagus. It is white because the Germans bury it to keep it from making chlorophyll. Supposedly it has a sweeter, lighter taste that way.

Still am not eating ghostly fingers. I don't care how sweet it is.

--7--
Oh, yes, forgot the funniest story of the week. After several weeks of taking showers, Katrina decided one evening to take a bath along with Annika. Things were going swimmingly, according to hubby, who is Appointed Baby Bath Master. Until (for the first time in her short life) Annika pooped in the bathtub. Katrina never moved so fast in her life. OUT of the bath and into the shower, along with a solemn vow, "I am NEVER taking a bath again!"

So far, she hasn't.


For more quick takes (probably with fewer poop-related stories), check out Conversion Diary.

Growing Up Is Hard To Do

Today is Katrina's first day back at school after her week-and-a-half term break. She has about 6 more weeks of school. Now is when we pay the price for the three-term system. More vacation during the year, which I think helps with the spring school-fatigue factor. But less summer vacation, as school runs until July 21 and starts up again the first week of September.

For me, the passing of time becomes more evident in the spring. The end of the school year, the girls' birthdays drawing near, my birthday in the not-too-distant past. Last year at this time, I was still pregnant, and expecting at least a few weeks alone at home with Katrina before the baby came. I never got those weeks, as Annika decided that the first day of summer vacation was a good time to make her move.

It's been a tough year for Katrina. She does not do change well, a characteristic she probably got from me. She is most happy when everything goes exactly as she expects...which, of course, almost never happens. A baby sister was not expected nor wanted, but now that she's here, Katrina loves her and worries over her and makes her giggle like no other person can.

Oh, but the anger is right there, too. And the anxiety. Our oldest girl feels so deeply...both the highs and the lows. And she speaks about it so rarely, whether because she doesn't have the words yet, or she doesn't want to, I'm not sure. Her swim teacher (who also majored in child psychology) said last fall that Katrina takes everything on her own shoulders. My girl needs to (?) or can't help but notice everything and everyone around her. It is a burden to her, at times, I think. She worries too much. Everything should be just right...even herself. When it is not, frustration ensues. She does not want to make mistakes.

I wish I could say I can't imagine how that feels, but I do. I recognize the frustration, the perfectionism. It makes me sad to realize that that internal pressure that I've struggled with for so many years (and have only partially overcome, in no small part due to becoming a mother) is also manifesting in my daughter. I wonder whether it is a genetic predisposition, or caused by mothering missteps or 6 years spent as an only child, or, or, or...

I worry. Some days I think we're too hard on her. Other days I'm sure we don't demand enough. Some days she has a perpetual scowl on her face. Other days, she is excited and expansive. Until she asks what's for dinner and I give the "wrong" answer. "Oh, WHY don't we ever have pizza?" she wails. Even if we just had it less than a week ago. And I wonder just how my happy little 6-year-old can turn into a sulky teenager in under a minute.

But then there are the days when I fall in love with her all over again. When I make her turn off the TV and computer and tell her to find something to do that doesn't involve a screen. And I come back from putting the baby down for a nap and find this:


That is her list of things to do. 1. Book, 2. Play with stuffed animals, 3. Art. She has already read a book, she said, and was playing with her WebKinz. Pretty soon she hauled out some art supplies and found directions for 3-D pictures.




Of course, I had to talk her down after the glue didn't stick as quickly and easily as she thought it should. But I was proud of her for being so self-directed.

Another day, she knocked on the neighbor's door and asked if the kids could take a walk with us. And as she and her little friends hurtled down the path in front of me, I could almost see the tension slipping away from her. And I remember last week, when she hunted tadpoles in the lake. And last year, when we tramped through the woods. And I remind myself that my little girl needs to be outside, even if she herself would rather watch TV. Even if *I* would rather read while she watched TV. And I vow to get over my tiredness and my comfort and my agenda and put her need to absorb the sunshine and get wet and dirty and breathe the spring air above my own wishes to get work done in the house or just to relax for a few minutes I've been going all day for Pete's sake!

And I wonder which one of us is growing up the most.

Honesty Is for Suckers

Thursday was the first day of Katrina's half-term break, and we were to meet some schoolfriends at the pool. This was the first time I've been in a swimsuit since before I got pregnant with Annika.

"Ugh. This swimsuit fits a bit too tight since..." I muttered, about to finish the sentence with "since the baby."

But Katrina was too fast for me. "Since you got fat?" she said sympathetically.

well, uh, YES, actually. Thanks for noticing.

Now It Gets Really Messy

Spiritual Growth

Dear Zondervan Publishing,

I recently bought my daughter your Kid's Quest Study Bible, which has, you say "Real Questions, Real Answers." True, there are quite a few (500, it says) of those little boxes with interesting questions and answers. The little cartoons that go with them are cute, too.

But I think you missed a few questions. Since I started reading Genesis to my daughter (who refused to start in the Gospels, but wished to begin on the very first page of the book), she has asked some questions that I think you should include in your next edition. You wish to include real answers to the questions real kids ask, right?

Let's start off with Creation. My daughter would like to know why God used Adam's rib to make Eve, instead of dust. She would also like to know if it hurt Adam and if he then was missing a rib the rest of his life. In addition, a map showing the current whereabouts of the Garden of Eden would be helpful. Oh, and an explanation of why God made mosquitos would also be a good idea. Bugs are always good for some cartoon magic.

Another question my daughter asked was why people in Bible times lived so long...Noah lived over 900 years! Can you add that Q&A to the list?

In Genesis 17, God tells Abram to circumcise all the males in his family as a sign of the covenant. I think you missed an opportunity to address an obvious question that kids would ask, and that my daughter did ask: "What is circumcision?" With that Q&A missing, I had to offer my own explanation. I'm surprised you overlooked that question. The closest section offering a Q&A was about whether angels could look human, which, really, Zondervan? Was answered pretty well in the text itself.

Also, if you are going to use the words "made love" instead of the rather more oblique "knew" or "laid with" about the prerequisite for making babies, perhaps a little Q&A box would help curious readers. My daughter has not asked what this means yet, but we're only at Genesis 21 and I'm sure there are many more references to come.

Finally, my daughter would really like to know why God asked Abraham to kill his son. As a matter of fact, I'd like an answer to that one myself. Maybe your editors could get on that.

Thanks again for your kid-friendly Bible. I'm sure I'll be writing again with more suggestions as we progress.

Sincerely,

Katrina's mom

7 Quick Takes--Typisch Deutsch Edition

I realized the other day that there are a number of little things about German culture and lifestyle that I have come to take for granted. After 4 years of living here, I find when I return to the States on vacation that the American way of doing things now seems foreign. So, seven quick takes on some everyday German idiosyncracies.

--1--
Two-toned hair. The genesis for this post was my cashier at the German grocery store last week. She was in her maybe her late forties and had short, tousled dark hair. Well, dark except for the wide streak of purple in front. Now, I've seen plenty of wild colors in hair in the States. Never on anyone over, say, 30, though. But two-toned hair is no respector of age in Germany. Purple is unusual, but I regularly see well-coiffed middle-aged and older women with blond hair on top and dark hair on the bottom. Or magenta. Or orangey. Yes, the bright red-orange colors are neck in neck with the blonde. When your mother has two-toned magenta/black hair, what's a young teen girl to do? Oh, yeah...bright blue or pink.

--2--
Driving. Germany is famous for its no-speed-limit autobahns (and for its legendary traffic jams on said autobahns). But it's the little roads through towns and residential areas that you really need the driving skills for. Whether because the roads were built before the age of autos, or just to make sure cars don't whip through residential areas, the roads are narrow. But that doesn't mean you can't park on them! So, narrow roads with parked cars on one or both sides of the street equals one-lane roads. When driving along this type of road, keep your eyes peeled for 1) cars bearing down from the opposite direction and 2) breaks in the parked cars so you can pull over and let opposing cars pass you. At any moment you may have to wheel into a gap and stop. Then manuever back out into the road and go on your way. This does not seem to be much of an irritant to Germans, who generally are happy to yield right-of-way and just seem more patient and cooperative while driving.

Until you're on the autobahn of course. Now you see why, once Germans get onto the autobahns, there's no stopping them.

--3--
Speaking of which, the main rule on the autobahn is: watch your rear. If you're in the left lane, you better be passing someone on the right. And if a car is, ahem, RAPIDLY approaching you from behind, get the hell into the right lane because it is not stopping or slowing down. This key traffic law differs dramatically from the States. There are very few cars puttering along in the left lane here. It's a matter of survival as well as law.

--4--
Fresh air. Many Germans despise air conditioning. They think it unhealthy and unnatural. Few public spaces have AC, not even malls or museums. Fresh air is the cure for all that ails you...and the key to preventing mold in your house. German houses are built with concrete blocks, so moisture does not escape easily. If you don't at least crack your windows frequently (preferably every day, no matter how cold it is), you invite mold and lots of it. The tenant's responsibility to open the windows daily is written into every apartment lease.

Also, the way to air out your bedding (Germans use duvets but no top sheets) is to open your window and fold the duvet over the windowsill, so that part of it hangs outside. And dryers are expensive and unnecessary when you can hang clothes outside. German washers have a very high velocity spin cycle, so clothes come out just damp and ready to be hung outside (when weather's good) or inside on a clothes rack. Many Germans do not own a dryer.

--5--
Restaurant service. It takes some getting used to, eating in restaurants in Europe. In the States, your perky server checks in with you at least once a meal, more likely two times or more. "Everything okay? Can I get you anything else?" In Europe (not just Germany), this is seen as intrusive. The server takes your drink order, brings your drinks, takes your food order, brings your food, and then goes away, never to return unless you flag her/him down. Eating out is a luxury and a leisurely activity. There is no concept of "turning tables" at any sit-down restaurant. If you reserve a table, it is reserved for the whole night.

Also, in Germany, the food comes out whenever it is ready...no hot lamps in the kitchen or perceived necessity to bring out all the food for a table at once. If you wait to eat until everyone is served, you will have cold food. If you order pizza and your companion orders steak, you could be finished with your pizza before the steak arrives. Believe me, I know.

--6--
Sundays. Everything is closed on Sundays. Yes, that includes grocery stores. Some bakeries are open on Sunday mornings. Restaurants are open, movie theaters are open, gas stations are open. Stores are closed. Car dealers are closed.

And, from what I have seen, a common Sunday outing is to take a walk and stop and look at the cars at the closed car dealership. I don't know why...no sales pressure? But whenever we're out and about on a Sunday, we see people peering into car windows and otherwise inspecting the cars on the outside lots of a darkened dealership.

Unless, of course, the stores are open. "Verkaufsoeffener Sonntags"--open Sundays--are very popular. A particular town will announce the date of their open Sunday a month ahead of time. And the town will be flooded with eager shoppers with nowhere else to go. Often, the open Sundays coincide with some special event, like a carnival (Kerwe) or market day (we went to the Landstuhl Mai Markt last week).

--7--
Spargel! "Spargel" is German for asparagus, and Germans seem to love it. In the spring, every restaurant has a "Spargel Menu," usually including spargel soup, spargel with hollandaise sauce, and at least a few other dishes. But this isn't your petite green American asparagus spears. German spargel is white and kind of looks like giant fingers. I'm not a fan of spargel (can't get past the "giant fingers covered in sauce" thing), but when the spargel signs start going up, you know it is spring.


It's Spargel! Who needs other vegetables?

See Conversion Diary for other quick takes.

Sometimes I Envy Her the Stroller

In Cologne...

7 Quick Takes...Catch-Up Picture Edition

It's been a busy few weeks, what with Katrina having her 2-week term break, a trip to Cologne, and the subsequent total breakdown of Annika's sleep patterns. But last night the baby slept nearly 12 hours, so my brain fog is somewhat thinner today.

-1-
We've had extraordinarily good spring weather, with a long stretch of sunny, warm days. Easter was a lovely day, and we got a few pictures of the girls in their pretty dresses. Unfortunately, we took them in the late-ish afternoon, and Annika was just DONE with being at all charming.







-2-
Being two months premature, Annika is a bit behind on her motor skills, so her doctor recommended some physical therapy sessions. (Dubbed "baby gymnastik" in German, which sounds more fun and less medical.) It has become clear that my mellow little baby is just as strong-willed as her big sister. Annika likes sitting up. Annika LOVES sitting up. Annika will cry if you lay her down on her back to play (she is tolerating it a little better now, though). So we had been letting her sit up to the exclusion of any other position, which is not so good for learning those little skills like rolling over and crawling. Just making her lay down and putting a few toys just out of reach has made her much more mobile.

Annika previously HATED to be on her tummy. She is now tolerating it a little better, for longer periods of time. But the therapist has been having a bit of trouble with our little cutie. See, the therapist tries to demonstrate "exercises" that we can do at home, at the moment consisting of ways to roll Annika from her back to her tummy so that she can get the technique for doing it herself. Little problem: Annika resists being rolled over with all of her might. First exercise: grasp the baby's upper thigh and take one leg over the other, thus turning the whole body over. Not so fast--Annika digs the other leg into the ground, effectively turning the move into a breakdance circle (turning around on one side). Second exercise: pull one arm over the other and roll the whole body from back to front. Not so fast--now both legs and the unheld arm dig into the floor, again negating the effect. She gets to her side but no further. Now, if the therapist makes any move toward Annika, the sweetheart flings both arms out straight. Eventually, the therapist figured out that you have to hold one leg straight while grasping the other thigh to roll her...preferably while Annika holds a toy in her hand so she can't use her arms to stop the motion.

The therapist says she has never seen a baby this age who is so strong and determined. That's my girl!



Ha, ha! Just try to get me on my tummy!

-3-
Annika's top two teeth are now coming in, but at different paces. At the moment, I'm tempted to call her Ol' Snaggletooth.




What did you just call me?!

-4-
We had lovely weather in Cologne and walked all over the city. Accompanied by the whining of our 6-yr-old. "I'm Tiiiired, I'm hot, my feet hurt, I'm HUNGRY!" Katrina did enjoy seeing the huge old cathedral (built in the middle ages and practically the only thing left standing after WWII), visiting the chocolate museum, and smelling every possible perfume in Cologne's famous 4711 cologne shop (where they've been selling "Koelnisch Wasser," Cologne's most famous...cologne, for hundreds of years). But when asked her favorite part of the trip, her answer was "Dunkin Donuts!" There were two Dunkin Donuts shops in the pedestrian zone, within walking distances of the hotel. So she and hubby walked there every morning while I fed the baby in our room and ate gluten-free muffins.

I can't blame her too much. I was inordinately excited to see a Starbucks and drank a mocha latte nearly every day.



Koeln Dom

--5--
Katrina actually likes to visit the old churches. She focuses on two things: finding all of the dead people and lighting a candle. Most old cathedrals in Europe have gravestones or entire stone sepulchres around the periphery of the sanctuary or in some sort of crypt underground. The Koeln Dom had both.

I prefer to focus on the loveliness of my daughter praying "for all the people who don't have enough food" than on her demanding I read each and every memorial gravestone and asking me if the body has turned to dirt yet.



-6-
I've been reading Anne of Green Gables to Katrina before bed. The language is a bit over her head, but she still wants me to read it. Probably because Anne Shirley is almost as dramatic as Katrina is. I forgot this about Anne. But if anyone knows about being so excited that nothing else seems important, or suddenly plunging into the "depths of despair" ["what's despair, Mama?"] it would be our Katrina. I, on the other hand, am identifying more with stern Marilla, which is kind of disconcerting. And I seem to be saying "well, now" a lot, which is how Matthew Cuthbert starts every sentence.

-7-
Well, now, the baby has awoken from the longest nap she's had all week. So I'll mention just one more thing: DVR is a dangerous thing. I set it to record "Jon and Kate plus 8," which I've seen only once before. It taped about 20 episodes before I got around to watching. In the past 5 days, I've winnowed that down to about 7. I am a reality television addict. And am REALLY glad I only have singletons. And think that Katrina and Mady are very much alike. In one episode, Mady stomped into the house after school [ON HER BIRTHDAY], kicked a balloon viciously, and went to her room..for no discernible reason. Ah, yes, the school-to-home transition. I know it well.

For more quick takes, check out Conversion Diary

Yes, My 39th Birthday Is Next Week. Why Do You Ask?

I had an interview and I was running late. The dress I had planned on wearing did not fit right. Since I was at my mom and dad's house, my clothing options were limited. Mom tried to find me something appropriate to wear from her closet and from whatever clothing my sister had left behind. But no matter what I tried on--green satin party dress, sleeveless yellow dress, brown slacks of Wendy's with colorful stripes on them--nothing fit me.

I realized that I needed to call Christine W.--a client who had given me work in the past and who was now starting a new editing business--and tell her I would be late. I looked for her number but couldn't find it. I couldn't believe Mom had not written down Christine's number! Finally, I found a scrap of paper with some sort of musical notes on it. "Oh," Mom said, "that's her number. I wrote it down in code." What? I couldn't figure out why she'd do that, or what the code was. Mom finally decoded it for me, and I started to call the number.

It was a white phone with clear buttons, the kind you would have seen in the 70s sitting on a side table. I started punching in the numbers, but got one wrong. I tried again, and again, each time not quite able to get it right. Mom tried to help me, but I could not see the right numbers. Meanwhile, it was growing later and later, and in the pit of my stomach I knew there was no way I would make the interview.

Still, I kept punching at the numbers, getting them wrong each time. I looked down at the slip of paper and read the name of Christine's new editing business: Tempus Fugit Editing.

7 Quick Takes

--1--
Annika needs glasses. She is significantly far-sighted. I have known this for a month and have put off actually going to buy the glasses. Mostly because, those eyes! I don't want to cover them. Yesterday in the commissary no fewer than three people stopped to coo over her. And every one of them said, "Look at those big eyes!"

But I need to get over it and help the child actually SEE with those baby blues.



Look, it's that blur who calls herself Mama!

--2--
It's not every day that your child gets off the school bus with blood stains on her shirt. And blood-sodden tissues clutched in her hand. "She's got a little bit of a wobbly tooth," said the bus monitor cheerfully, which right then confirmed for me the stereotype of the British understatement. "Look, Mama!" she said, and opened her mouth to show me the blood streaking from one of her front teeth and pooling in her mouth. "I heard a crack and then it started bleeding," she said. "I need another Kleenex." Yeah, I think so.

Well, obviously the bloody tooth needed to come out. So Katrina swished salt water around her mouth, I grabbed a paper towel. and we started a-pulling. It was the little tooth on the bottom to the right of the two middle teeth. It was small. It was slippery. It was NOT coming out. After a half-hour of swishing, spitting out blood, and trying to pull out the blasted thing, we gave up. It seemed to be anchored on one side, despite the fact that I could wiggle it almost sideways. A few more "swish and spits" and the bleeding stopped.

The next day, Katrina came off the bus with her tooth in her backpack. It had fallen out all by itself while she was on the playground.

But I'm sure our efforts loosened it up. Right? Right? (Ok, no picture for this one because the first teeth coming out are Epic Photo Ops. The fourth tooth, oh, drat, almost forgot the tooth fairy thing.)

--3--
We have done our part to help the economy...of Deruta, Italy. In November, we ordered a new set of dishes. Since shipping a set of hand-painted dishes from Italy to Germany was just as expensive as you might expect, we waited until the company came to the next bazaar in Germany...and then asked our friend who works in Stuttgart to haul them home for us. They were my Christmas gift and I think food looks so much better on them. Hubby likes them but also? thinks they are Just. Plates. Nuh-uh! Look!



We make even Jennifer's cooking look good.

--4--
On Sunday, I taught Children's Church, which sounds way more fancy than it is, since it was a last-minute thing. I read the story nearly word for word from the Sunday School curriculum, then had the kids do the enclosed pre-printed craft. But the lesson has been bugging me, because it misrepresented what the Bible actually said.

The story of the day was the widow's mite. Jesus was hanging out at the temple with his disciples, watching people put money in the offering jars. Rich people put in a lot. Then a poor widow approaches, and puts in two coins, worth less than a penny. Jesus said (ahem, paraphrasing) "Look! That widow put in more than all of the rich people, because she gave all she had." End of story, on to another one.

So, the curriculum asks, was Jesus happy that the widow gave all she had? (The kids chorus, YES!) NO, says the curriculum. Jesus wasn't happy that the widow gave all she had, but because she was *thankful* to God.

What up with that?! Are the writers of the Sunday School curriculum afraid the little kiddos might actually take Jesus seriously? Bring their whole piggy bank to church the next Sunday? Couldn't have a bunch of kids growing up thinking that they need to give everything they have to God...could we?

--5--
Hmm. I just now got the irony of juxtaposing buying new dishes with the widow's mite story. This Christianity thing is HARD.

--6--
I've read several good books lately that I keep meaning to mention. One is The School of Essential Ingredients by Erica Bauermeister. I got this one out of the library. The book is essentially a series of stories about students in a cooking class,what their lives are like, why they came to the class, and how they intersect with each other over the eight-week course. The characters are well-drawn and the stories are poignant, but the writing itself is gorgeous, in an unselfconscious way.

Also, The Seduction of Water by Carol Goodman. This one has many of the conventions of a Gothic mystery--an old historic hotel, a missing book manuscript, a daughter trying to uncover the truth about her mother's death 30 years ago---but takes place in present day. Of course I'd be drawn to a book about two writers: the daughter, teaching writing classes and trying to finish her English dissertation; and the dead mother, famous for writing only two fantasy novels of what was supposed to be a trilogy. Woven throughout is an Irish legend of The Selkie. Loved it.

--7--
Katrina is a strong-willed person. This is obvious to anyone who's spent more than, say 5 minutes with her. Plus she's easily distracted. So, mornings and evenings are often spent repeating the same phrases over and over, with increasing force. "Katrina, go upstairs and start your bath. Katrina! upstairs, please. Katrina, NOW." She resisted to the point of tears (hers) and yelling (ours) last night. When she (we) calmed down, I said, "Katrina, the rule is that you do what Mama and Papa say the FIRST time we ask. And when I ask you to do something, the correct answer is, 'OK, Mama.' And then you DO it. The FIRST time. Or you will get a time out. Do you understand?"

She nodded gravely and said, "Yes, Mama." She was silent for a moment, and then...

"That's a new rule, Mama. You never told me that before."



For more Quick Takes, go over to www.conversiondiary.com

The More Things Change, The More They Remain The Same

Baby Weight

There is a sort of freedom in laying down a sleeping baby. The weight of responsibility, the constant pressure in your thoughts--what does baby need, why is she crying, what have I forgotten--eases for a time. For a time, she is self-sufficient, in her crib, dreaming whatever babies dream about.

A physical freedom, as well--you can move about freely, no baby to balance on hip or sit on lap, no hands reaching to grab whatever you pass or entwining themselves in your hair. The house is silent, peaceful, quiet enough to hear yourself breathing. To hear the baby breathing, even, if you stand still beside her crib and listen.

One can never move quickly enough to do everything you have postponed for the nap. While the baby is awake, playing and laughing and crying to be held and fed and played with, your mind tick, tick, ticks, in the background, running through the to-do list of Tasks That Are More Easily Performed During the Nap. Which, to be clear, is just about everything. Plans are made, long lists organized, all while spooning rice cereal into baby's mouth and saying "yum, yum!" and smiling back at her gummy grin. And when she starts rubbling her eyes, you get positively giddy with anticipation of Time Alone.

So you get out the bottle and cuddle up and listen to her sucking get slower and watch her long eyelashes flutter shut. Finally, you hear that last sigh of surrender, as her body relaxes and she burrows into her dreams.

Her weight in your arms, against your chest or over your shoulder, becomes just a tad heavier each day. And you remember just yesterday, when your older child squirmed out of your hug after just a moment. And you feel the absolute trust this little creature has, to fall asleep in your arms. And the List disintegrates, the tasks blowing away like autumn leaves. And you sit and listen to her breathe, feeling her weight, holding your baby just a few moments longer, slowing down the world.

Then There Was None