Extra Extra, Read All About It!

This weekend, Violet attended her very first book club! And she loved every second of it. She loved that some of her favorite people came to visit. She loved that we had pizza. She loved that Emily changed her diaper and that spitting up meant she could wear not just one but two adorable outfits. She loved how everyone made a big fuss the minute she started to cry, and cooed appropriately whenever she did something cute, like yawn or sneeze or stare contemplatively into the distance. She loved that really, book club this month was less about the book and far more about her.

But when she gets a little older, hopefully she'll grow to appreciate just how awesome this book club is. Allow me to brag. For I invented this book club, and we're going strong on our third year now.

Here's the thing about book clubs. So often, they don't work. The last one I was in lasted a grand total of two books. And I have a theory why. Book clubs are intimidating. First, you have to read the book. Then you get together and have to prove you did your homework by talking about said book. And this talking has to reach a much deeper level than merely "I liked it" or "I never got around to finished, oops". Oh no, book club conversations have the obligation of involving themes, character study, language analysis. You have to ponder what the author meant when the main character broke the wine glass on page 59 or why the color cerulean blue appears so frequently. And for all you know, the author didn't mean anything by it, it's just a color and the main character just happens to be clumsy so stop reading things into it.

Or, even worse, everyone gets together and then promptly ignores the book. The meeting is just an excuse to gather and gossip. Even with the best of intentions, I have a feeling this is what most book clubs devolve into. In which case, you should just call it what it is and remove all the pressure and guilt of reading, right?

That's when I had my flash of inspiration. It occurred as I sat leafing through a "1000 books you should read before you die" list. I was surprised to see how many of the books had been turned into movies. Some I only knew the movie version, I had no idea it originated with a great piece of literature. And I thought - what if there was a book club where, rather than gathering together every month to suffer through a stuffy conversation about theme and intent, you just watched the movie version of the book instead? Ah, genius! Suddenly all the pressure would be gone! Didn't manage to finish the book? Who cares - you'll get to watch the story anyway! Don't know why the author keeps mentioning cerulean blue? Who cares - no one is going to ask you! Hated the book? Eh, who cares - especially if the movie stars George Clooney!

And so Mook Club (Movie plus Book, get it?) was born. And the interesting thing is, more often than not, we still end up having that "deep" book discussion. We'll compare the book to its film adaptation and mention what surprised us. We'll complain about the actors cast, or debate which we preferred, book or movie. We may not talk themes, but we still talk. Over the years we've read everything from Breakfast at Tiffany's to Harry Potter. We've read YA books (Ella Enchanted, Holes) and decidedly more adult fare (A Widow for a Year, Bridges of Madison County). We've timed our selections to match movies newly released in theaters (Marley and Me, Alice in Wonderland). And we've gone back to the classics (Anne of Green Gables). It's been fabulous.
 
This year's books include The Secret Garden, Out of Sight and The Blind Side. We'll take turns hosting; sometimes there will be slumber parties, often the will be food. By unanimous decision, Violet was voted in and will be our sixth member. It's going to be a good year of reading.

 Our first official Mook Club picture!

Monday's Child

Happy Five Weeks, Violet!

 Her five week accomplishments include rolling onto her back during tummy time, smiling, making baby talk, whacking the toys hanging above her on the playmat, drooling, spitting up, and being adorable.

Hit the Rattle

The playmat is much more interesting now that Violet can actually focus on things. She's getting the hang of hitting the toys, and likes to talk about it!

Pimp My Pals

I love handmade stuff. It's far more personal than anything mass produced in China. Now, I'm not the handiest of people. My one do-it-yourself talent is knitting, but even that has its limitations. First of all, I tend to knit mostly scarves. They're easy, just one long rectangle. And they're even easier to give away, assuming any of my friends want a hand-knitted scarf for our oh-so-frigid Georgia winters. (And even if they don't, it's too hard to turn it down once I hand it to them with that hopeful, please take it look on my face.) At one point, after a bit of yarn overload, I think I had a good ten, twelve scarves just languishing by the coat rack, hoping in vain someone would take pity on them and try them on for a spin. I was so obsessed with knitting at one point, I actually knitted in public. I eventually graduated up from mere scarves - I can now do hats (knitted on double pointed needles, no less!), wristbands (nothing says "I'm cool" at the gym than a knitted yarn wristband, but I upped the classy factor by adding designs) and ponchos (okay, this I actually am a little proud of... my mom wears hers all the time!) I'm sure I'll get back into knitting at some point, but as for now, I need a craft I can complete one-handed with a baby in the other arm.

But enough about me. This post is about all the far more talented and creative friends I have (especially those friends who let me reap the bounty of their DIY-ness). I envy their ability with the pen, the paint brush, the needle... Even more, I envy their ability to turn their craft into a lucrative little side business. Oh, if only someone wanted to buy one of my scarves! Better yet, if only someone wanted to publish my novel! But again, enough about me. Check out these fabulous offerings from people I'm lucky enough to say I know personally...

Amanda and I met in high school. We would go on to become college roommates. Our senior year, it took something insane like three weeks for the cable company to switch on our cable. So we had to find other ways of entertaining ourselves. Amanda's solution was to teach us all to paint and I still remember those hot August days, spread out on the living room floor, the radio whistling in the background, as we colored the world. Unfortunately, I lack the talent. Amanda, on the other hand, does not.

She wrote, illustrated and published this amazing book, starring a little bulldog who wants to grow up to become someone great. Violet received an autographed copy before she was born and I know she'll treasure it as soon as she's old enough to understand the significance of Red and Black. Seriously, this book is stunning. It's filled with wall to wall full-color pages of one hopeful little bulldog in scenes familiar to anyone who has spent time in Athens. The Arch, the tree that owns itself, Sanford Stadium, they all make an appearance within. I'm enormously proud of Amanda, who has sold a ton of copies in bookstores across Athens and even has book signings (sweet Lord, help me!) and slightly jealous of her as well.

Then there's Natalie, another one of my accomplished artistic friends. Natalie makes and sells the most beautiful notecards in her Etsy shop. I love snail mail, both the sending and receiving of it. And when the mail comes in the form of a beautiful piece of stationary, it's even better. I once made it a New Year's resolution to write one hand-written letter a month, and these notecards helped me accomplish the goal. This is currently my favorite.

Natalie was so sweet and gave me some of these Mama and Baby Bird notecards as part of a baby shower present. Only problem is, they are too beautiful to use! Sigh. I'll just have to order myself an 8x10 to frame and keep forever.

And finally, there's my pal Keight, who just took the plunge and opened her own Etsy store. Because being a mom, getting pregnant again and holding down a job wasn't challenging enough for her. Tell me, how cute is this?!

Now, I can't vouch for the awesomeness of this plush puppy, as I have not seen it in person (massive HINT HINT) but Keight doesn't do anything half-assed. What I do know is, it would look great hanging out in Violet's pack n' play with her. In fact, Keight, since I know you're reading, I hereby volunteer to be your official product tester/reviewer, if you need one.

So there you have it. Some amazing people who make amazing things. I'm jealous. Sigh. At least I'll always have my scarves. In fact, if you know someone who wants one...!

Race for your life

This weekend, I did something either incredibly brave and motivating, or incredibly stupid. I'm leaning towards the latter. Matt and I are officially registered to run the Peachtree Road Race again this Fourth of July.

We ran it for the first time last year. It was my New Year's resolution, and something I've always wanted to do. For years I watched my dad come home exhausted but exhilarated, proudly wearing his t-shirt, but it was never something I wanted to try. Who needs to get up at an ungodly hour just to sweat it out in the mid-summer heat? Besides, thanks to my exercise-induced asthma, running is on my list of least favorite activities, right up there with bug-slaying and camping without accessible toilets.

Still, run it I did. We all started together, the three of us. Matt stuck around for a mile or two before an encouraging "I'll meet you at the end". My dad kept me company through Cardiac Hill until I graciously waved him on ahead as I slowed to a (brisk?) walk. I stopped caring about the snotty twelve-year-olds blithely trotting past me or the couples with enough extra oxygen to carry on full-on political discussions as they ran by. I soldiered on until about mile five, when it suddenly occurred to me that something wasn't right. Something was different. Come to find out the next day, I was pregnant! But at the time, not knowing, I merely trudged on, eyes burning for the finish line. Which is way further down the road than you think it's going to be, by the way. Still, I got that t-shirt. I earned it.

And now, like an idiot, I'm doing it again. I still don't like running. It's still going to be blazing hot. Although I better not be pregnant this time. But the biggest hurdle is, I don't know how I'm going to train. Last year, I only managed to finish on two feet because I spent four months gradually building up my endurance on a treadmill three times a week. Now I have no treadmill. Plus I have a baby. So we'll see what happens. Wish me luck!

The One Month Stats

One month check-up complete! And talk about progress! Two weeks ago Violet weighed 7 pounds 7 ounces, putting her in the 25th percentile for weight. Today, she put up an impressive 8 pounds 11 ounces! I know, I know, that's probably what your baby weighed when he was born. But for my little girl, it means just one thing. My boobs are working! She also grew another half inch to hit 20 3/4 inches. Now her length, head circumference and weight are all in the 50th percentile. Ah, I never thought I'd be so happy to have a completely average baby!

And in even bigger news... she rolled over! Right there in the doctor's office! Everyone was surprised, none more than Violet herself.

 I did what??

My next goal is to capture it on camera. Although I won't be surprised if we don't see that move again for awhile. There's something about Dr. Teague that brings out the best in Violet. She loves her doctor and loves even more to show off for her. Sure, she cries when I take her clothes off. But she has no problem hanging out in only her diaper as long as the doc is watching.

So it was another good report. We go back in a month, which bums me out a bit. If I had my way, we'd be dropping by the pediatrician to get Violet weighed every week. It's the only thing that completely assures me we're not breaking her or anything. Although at our next visit, there will be lots of shots involved, so maybe I shouldn't be in such a hurry to return. We'll see how much Violet adores Dr. Teague after that!

Before and After

Before...

Me and Aesook, buns in oven.

After!

 Zoe (10 weeks) and Violet (4 weeks) finally meet! 

Aesook and her husband Jason brought baby Zoe over to meet Violet. I can't get over how big Zoe is! It doesn't seem possible that Violet will someday be that big herself. And finally, there was a baby in the house who actually appreciated the new swing I bought! Zoe happily rocked out the entire time. (I'll give you three guesses as to what Vi was doing.) We had a great visit, swapping baby stories and stats. Finally, someone I can talk to who doesn't care that the entire conversation is about poop and breastfeeding! Ah, I need more new moms in my life. 

Seriously, I swore I wouldn't be one of those people who became a mom and suddenly couldn't talk about anything but baby poop. But then I realized, that's all I have right now. My entire life consists of poop and breast milk. Sigh. So thank God for someone like Aesook. Not only can she relate, she can also give me a heads up on what to expect in the coming weeks. She also assured me that Zoe hated her swing at first, but suddenly came around and now practically lives in the thing. Hope springs eternal!

Monday's Child

ONE MONTH!

Can we call this a smile? Maybe? Almost?

 

I can NOT believe Violet is already a month old. I have a one-month-old! That's just nuts. And she's definitely getting bigger. Her toes reach all the way to the end of this newborn outfit, unlike they did when she first put it on. We're off to the pediatrician tomorrow to find out just exactly how much she's grown. But one thing is for sure - the burping is definitely coming along!

To Grandmother's House We Go

We took our first trip with baby Violet. I geared up for it with no small amount of trepidation. I've built a cozy, safe little nest for us here in Olde Atlanta. I have everything I need at my fingertips - extra diapers, plenty of clothes, a washing machine for said clothes when the triple threat of pee, poop and spit up occurs simultaneously, etc. We have a nice little routine going. But all that was going to change this weekend.

This Saturday, we celebrated the 90th birthday of Matt's grandmother and Violet's middle namesake, Betty Wolfe. Aunts, uncles, cousins, in-laws, they were all coming to town and every last one of them had a standing appointment to hold Violet.

Great-Grandma Betty with the newest Loughman.

Friday morning I spent most of my spare time running around the house, gathering supplies. This baby requires at least three times the amount of luggage I do! Matt got off work early and we were set to hit the road in time to beat traffic and make Violet's next feeding. Instead, we left just in time to sit through one of Atlanta's worst rush hours. I nervously watched the clock as it ticked nearer and nearer to the baby's mealtime. Sure enough, in bumper to bumper traffic on the Downtown Connector, sweet Violet woke up and could not understand why dinner wasn't being promptly served. Soon she was wailing, prompting me to start crying, forcing Matt to beg that one of us at least pull it together. Every person that dared call my cell phone received and ear-full of my anxiety. It was bad. But, just as Matt promised, Violet fell back asleep as soon as we broke out of traffic and we both survived the journey without anyone starving to death.

Then it was time to meet the family!

Brooke meets her newest cousin. Looks like she approves, which is more than I can say about the first time Brooke met me. I don't think she liked the idea of any other girl taking up her Uncle Matt's time and attention. But never fear, we worked it out and now we're good friends. Good thing, too, because Violet takes up plenty of Uncle Matt's time and attention!

The awesome thing about this weekend was how everyone pretty much turned into a grandma for a day. As in, they all wanted to hold Violet, regardless of her mood, as much as possible for as long as possible, and nothing she could do was short of adorable. Nicole won the prize for calming the fussy baby down while her exhausted mom went downstairs and ate dinner. Just look at that baby face! Is that one contented child or what? Also, we weren't short on baby horror stories either (crying for three months straight, anyone?) which made me feel enormously better about my life.


All in all, it was a great weekend. Happy Birthday, Betty! I hope you had a wonderful weekend celebrating with friends and family! And now that I've managed it once, I think I can handle another road trip out of town. As long as our destination comes equipped with plenty of baby gear and a grandma or two!

Out for a stroll with the fam...

Do they serve popcorn in Heaven?

So remember all my bragging about how Tuesday night sucked, but Wednesday was awesome? I had renewed motivation to help Violet switch her days and nights around and she played into my plans perfectly, staying awake when she was supposed, snoozing when she should, etc? I was so proud! We were turning over a new leaf! This was going to be the start of something exciting! I had visions of her sleeping peacefully through the night in no time, awakening happy and refreshed each morning, ready to chow down on a full meal and giggle and coo her way through the day.

Well, what's that saying, if you want to make God laugh just tell Him your plans? Well, God must have had a riot yesterday. He probably called all the angels over just to look down at us and guffaw. I bet some of the angels even brought popcorn. Because yesterday was a disaster. Not in a violently crying, spitting up every five minutes, diaper blowout kind of way. Just in a disappointing, not how I planned it, bummer kind of way. Violet wouldn't open her sleepy little eyes to save her life. I tried everything. Normally I would have been thrilled to have so much time to get stuff done while she's quietly asleep in her bouncy chair. But after my perfect Wednesday, I was just disappointed. And to make matters worse, Violet's eating was off as well. She's rouse herself drowsily to snack for ten minutes or so, then sleep for another hour, only to wake up and want another snack. And I normally feed her every 2.5-3 hours or so, making this a huge difference in our schedule. It was such a bummer. The night wasn't horrible, but it wasn't great either. But mostly I was just so down about the whole thing. I really thought I was on to something. But the minute I think we've got something down, or I have her figured out, Violet changes it up on me and I'm left right back at square one. I felt a little bit like a failure yesterday. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn't a day totally unlike any other (except the eating thing). But after the brilliancy of Wednesday, it was definitely a let down. Sigh. Oh well. To quote Anne of Green Gables, "tomorrow is always fresh with no mistakes in it." We're giving it another shot today.

And in that regard, we're doing a little better. She's back to eating every 2.5-3 hours or so, although she decided to spit up her entire lunch in protest of the sponge bath I was giving her. Also, the verdict is in on the swing - she likes it! I plopped her in there once she fell asleep, hoping she wouldn't really notice and would just grow accustomed to it. Well, that stinker opened her eyes and checked things out! Fortunately, she seemed to approve and went right back to sleep again, allowing me a nice shower and time to pack all our gear for our trip to grandma's!

Yesterday's attempt lasted just long enough to snap this photo. Violet definitely wasn't convinced about the glories of the swing. I started to wonder if everyone has duped me with their stories of swing happiness.

T

Today. She seems to like it much better. Although even as I uploaded this shot, she opened her eyes, looked around suspiciously, and started snorting, sneezing and coughing back to back. Not sure what it means, but as long as she's not crying, I'm going to assume the swing is still a go.

Product Placement

So after appealing for advice on what type of baby swing to buy, the votes were overwhelming for a travel swing. Many of you specifically mentioned the Fisher Price travel swing, and lo and behold, my local Target had one in stock. And I had a nice, fat gift card accumulated from all the baby stuff I'd bought, second-guessed and returned. So the stars were in alignment and on Tuesday I bought this:

Cute, huh? Anyway, after Tuesday night's midnight marathon (see previous post), I decided it was time to put the thing together. Which Matt handily did. And then, God bless him, he even ventured out into the night to buy the necessary batteries that I didn't think to pick up while I was purchasing the swing.  So now we own a nice, portable baby swing (at least until she grows too big for it). But will Violet like it? The jury is still debating this one. I had her in it for a minute or two today, but alas, today is not going as well as yesterday and she didn't seem impressed. Of course, she was also pretty pissed that I was trying to keep her awake. That's right - yesterday's productive awake time has given way to today's sleepy head. Ah well, you win some, you lose some. She's young, she'll learn.

The swing batteries weren't the only thing Matt returned home with last night, however. I'm pleased to introduce you to what is possibly the best ice cream on the planet:

Holy... this stuff is GUD. So creamy, so sweet. Such an interesting flavor, reminiscent of coffee ice cream, but... not. (Hey, I'm not a gourmet expert food critic, I'm just a fan.) And you can pretend it's good for you because it's made with only five all-natural ingredients, listed right there on the carton: milk, cream, sugar, eggs, brown sugar. And no, I'm not paid to say this. Although if Haagen-Dazs suddenly took notice of my lowly little blog and this humble little pitch and decided to reward me with, say, a lifetime's supply (one carton per day should suffice) of this piece of Heaven, I wouldn't turn it down.

And that concludes today's product placement pitch. We now return you to our regularly scheduled broadcast.

Stand Up and Be Counted

I've never been so excited to fill out a census form before! Somehow it's these official forms (her social security card, the census) that make it all seem real. She doesn't just exist for us, she exists in the world. She counts!

So Tuesday night was rough (hence my lack of blogging). Violet was up and wide awake at midnight, 1:30, 2:30, 4:30-6 a.m.... For the most part she wasn't fussy, just wide awake. I mean, if I'd been missing her big (still) blue eyes, I certainly got my fill. I kept taking her into the living room so Matt wouldn't be disturbed (not sure how well that worked) and we would rock back and forth in the recliner.

And as it often happens, I had time for some pretty productive thinking. The first thought was, we HAVE to put the swing together. I bought one Tuesday during our weekly pilgrimage to Target, but we were too lazy to put it together. So yesterday the swing was duly assembled. Verdict is still out on whether Violet enjoys it. But that's another story.

The second deep thought I had, as I rocked back and forth in the darkened living room, the tiny, warm swaddled bundle of my daughter in my weary arms, was this. It is time to give it another shot. We have to get Violet's days and nights sorted out. Poor thing just doesn't know which way is up. Now, you all know what happened last time I attempted something like this. But being up at 5 a.m. with a child who is totally content just hanging out in your arms (and only your arms) will reinspire you, trust me.

So yesterday is began. And you know what, it went really well! After every feeding, I worked hard at keeping her awake for a little bit before letting her nap again. And what a difference a week makes! She is so much more alert these days, able to look around, track objects with her eyes (I think), stay awake... I even pulled out the playmat for her, which she enjoyed for quite a while. Then when she started getting antsy, I swaddled her up, rocked her a bit and sent her back to dreamland.

 I don't think she's actually looking at any of the toys hanging around her, but she seems fascinated by something! 

And you know what? Last night was so much better! So score one for Violet and score one for me. Everyone was right. She's getting more mature every day, able to handle more of this world, and I just needed to wait for her to get there on her own. I'm trusting my instincts and it appears to be working. But before I get too ahead of myself, let's see how today goes!

Monday's Child

 Happy 3 Weeks, Violet!

Monday's Child is fair of face... give or take a couple baby zits. Mommy needs to do a better job washing her baby (if only the baby wouldn't scream so much during bathtime!)

So I know it's not Easter yet, but this outfit is just too cute not to put her in now. I'm worried she'll be too big for it when the actual day arrives! (I have no idea how quickly she's growing... All I know is, she grew a whole inch in her first two weeks!) Also, the outfit was a gift from my sweet mentor teacher Bea and I wanted to show everyone what good taste she has.

I celebrated Violet's three week birthday by making our first solo trip out together. We went to Michael's to pick out a picture frame for the guest bathroom. She was good as gold, sleeping the whole time except for a few little squeaks as I checked out. In fact, it's been a pretty good day all around. By 10:45 a.m. I had already gotten up, eaten breakfast, had my coffee, fed Violet, taken a shower and pumped. Naturally, it couldn't all be perfect, seeing how little Vi freaked out when we got home. I thought she was hungry, which she might have been, but the giant poop she was working on distracted her from eating very well. But she's napping (and squeaking) now, while I enjoy a much deserved Diet Coke. It's been a good start to the first week we'll spend all on our own. Here's hoping the rest of the week goes down just as productively and smoothly.

Oh, and we are in the market for a baby swing. It's the one baby product we lack that everyone seems to hail as hands-down necessary. Anyone have a recommendation for me? I'm looking for the one that will magically put Violet to sleep no matter how cranky or gassy she may be and keep her happy for hours on end while I do laundry or, Lord willing, take a nap. You know, the one YOUR kid loves! Email me or comment here with any suggestions!

Buuuurp! Or not.

Along with abhorring nakedness, Violet is too much of a lady to let out a burp. We have tried everything. We've tried over the knee:

We've tried the traditional over the shoulder:

We've even tried the hold and bounce recommended by our pediatrician:

 

(Note how she's fast asleep in two out of three pictures. That's my girl!)

So while she might be too polite to burp, this child has no problem ripping a juicy fart. Well, sometimes she has a problem actually getting them out, but she certainly doesn't seem embarrassed when they finally reach the airwaves. Hey, we all have to be good at something!

Anatomy of a Bath

We've noticed that little Violet hates to be naked. I guess I should be happy that a career as a stripper doesn't seem in the cards for her. But when it comes to changing her diaper in the middle of the night, I could do without all the drama.

So we didn't have much hope in bath time going smoothly. So many people have told me about the lovely, soothing bath time routine they have instituted for their children, how it helps calm and ready them for bed. Sounds like my cup of tea. But how soothing can it be when your wailing child, as her Uncle Lukas pointed out, has the makings of being a never-nude? Well, we wouldn't know unless we tried. Plus, that kiddo was dirty. Bath time it was!

Naked pictures on the internet already! No wonder she's upset!

Yeah... it went down pretty much like we thought it would. Also, this picture gives her one hilarious buddha belly! Poor thing. I promise she's not really that fat. And I promise she eventually stopped screaming. She was okay for a second after she hit the water. Then the indignity of it all suddenly registered.  Poor Mimi was proud of me for even finishing the bath. I'm sure she would have thrown in the metaphorical towel and pulled her granddaughter out of there much sooner. In all, Violet only languished for a few short minutes, long enough for me to wash her hair, not long enough for me to scrub her back. But at least she didn't poop in the water (my number one fear!).

Why, Mom... WHY????

Look at that face! She looks so appalled. Like she literally can't believe we just did that to her. Poor girl. The good news is, our little never-nude calmed down as soon as we had her decently covered up again.

She forgives me... And I have myself a nice, clean baby girl! 

So I can't say how relaxing the nice, warm bath before bedtime was for either of us. We'll have to work more on that. Although truth be told, I think she can go a few more days before our next attempt. Violet doesn't get that dirty, after all. And for those of you who claim a bath is a great way to kick off bedtime... yeah, when should I be expecting that reaction? Maybe what I need is a baby-sized pair of cut-off denim shorts...

Proof that we all survived the experience.

Mirror Mirror

My new favorite thing to do is look in the mirror. Now, before any comments about how I've always liked to look in the mirror, let me just say, the picture has radically changed. I loved looking at me and Violet together. I'm so used to seeing her when other people are holding her, or looking down at her when she's in my arms. I've noticed that we hardly have any pictures of me and her together, mommy and daughter. Hence the mirror. I guess I just like the way we look together.

Fortunately, Mimi is here today so not only did I get a fantastically long and hot shower (where I managed to shave both my legs, thank you very much), I have on real clothes (pre-pregnancy jeans that don't button or zip but I don't care), I actually got to mousse my hair, and my mom has volunteered to take lots of pictures of me with my baby girl. 

Throwing Out the Book

First off, an observation. No one should give a new mother a plant. In theory it sounds wonderful. But I have managed to kill at least three plants since Violet was born. My apologies to the plants, the gift-givers and the universe in general. At least the newly blooming daffodils in the backyard will be safe!

Secondly, Violet is peeking at me from under her eyelashes as I type, so this might not last long. She likes to do the drunken sailor - one eye open, one still shut - as she snoozes in her vibrating bouncy seat. We had a pretty good night and a rather decent day. Day two of hanging by ourselves all day. The shower didn't go quite as well this time. She caught on that I was gone in between the conditioner and the face wash. But thanks to everyone's reassurance that it's okay if she cried for a few minutes while I finished up. My hair might look like crap but at least I'm clean and everyone survived.

Daddy got a chance to feed Violet last night with the first of my pumped breast milk (sorry if that's too much info!) She had no problem guzzling from the bottle.

Which bring me to my third item. So many people have written to me in response to this blog. Many of you have offered advice gleaned from years of your own experience. Never fear about giving me unsolicited advice, I'm all ears! I really appreciate everything that is said. And all of you have been so kind and encouraging, full of reassurance that I'm doing okay. (Mike and Sabine even sent me a verbal/mental hug, and all of you know how much I love hugs!) I can't tell you how much it means to me. Even when I'm not quite up to believing in myself 100 percent, it's nice to know you all do.

I think one of the biggest problems I've had is trusting my own instincts (probably the number one piece of advice I've gotten. That and putting the bouncy seat in the bathroom while I shower). But I'm constantly second-guessing myself, leaving my instincts in a tangled mess worse than the extension cords hiding behind our tv. On my best days without child I was horrible at making decisions (ask Matt how long it took me to pick out a backseat mirror for the carseat. He likes to tell that story). But I'm feeling rather buoyed by all the sweet encouragement I've gotten and I've decided to make a renewed effort. I'm throwing out the baby books for a while and I'm just going to listen to Violet, to myself, and perhaps to my husband. Not that the books aren't full of useful advice (hello, swaddling!). But I'm driving myself nuts trying to follow them all to the letter, marrying what they dictate with what the pediatrician has recommended, what the grandmas suggest, what that tiny voice in the back of my head is whispering. So we'll see how it goes.

Also (wow, I have a lot of points today. Didn't mean for this to turn into an essay!), did anyone watch House this week? I watched about 80 percent of it - it was about a blogger (Donna from That 70's Show) who chronicled her life in minute detail for her devoted blog followers. Now, I don't want to get that extreme. But I do want to thank you for letting me use this blog as a way to be honest about what's happening in our new lives, whether it be good, bad, messy or hilarious. I promise to tell it like it is if you promise to keep sending me that unsolicited advice and those verbal hugs!

 Violet's first piece of mail! And let me tell you, it is a head trip to see something addressed to your child in the mailbox! She got her social security card - she exists!

Little Victories

This time, I'll be sailing

No more bailing boats for me

I'll be out there on the sea

Just my confidence and me

And I'll be awful sometimes

Weakened to my knees

But I'll learn to get by

On little victories 

- Matt Nathanson

Sometimes it's the little things. For the first time today, I managed to work up the courage to take a shower without anyone else around to watch over my sleeping baby. Sure, I locked the bedroom door just in case the cat happened to grow three feet and opposable thumbs. And yes, I took the baby monitor into the bathroom with me and jacked the volume up so I could hear it over the running water. And naturally, I kept imagining I heard her crying, even though it was just in my head or probably the sound of the classical music I was playing for her. But even with all that, it was a rather enjoyable, steaming hot shower. And Violet kept sleeping so I could even do my hair. And eat lunch. And start a load of laundry. In fact, she's still sleeping! I'm actually going to have to wake her up so she can eat. But score one for the mommy today. My little victory.

She ponders the mysteries of the world as she sleeps. Or perhaps she's solving world peace.

Cry, Baby

So yesterday I had the insane idea that Violet needs to learn to fall asleep in her own bed. So far, she's been falling asleep happy and warm in someone's arms. (After all, what are Grandma's arms for?!) But the problem comes when I try to take her from my arms into her PnP. The transition does not go over well. And who can blame her. Safely curled up and warm to the cold, empty expanse of the PnP? I'd fuss, too. But since I can't sit here holding her all day and Grandmas must eventually go home, I decided last night that the time had come. I held her until she got nice and drowsy, then bravely put her to bed, switched on the monitor and left the room.

Silence was golden, for about five minutes. Then Violet decided she was tired of being all alone and decided to voice her opinion on the matter. Everyone says a little crying can't hurt, but man, that girl can wail. And wail she did, in all its heartbreaking, chin wobbling, tear inducing fury, for five minutes. Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes. I have to hand it to Lee Anne's self control that she didn't give me a dirty look and rush in there to the rescue. Matt was barely hanging on. I faked nonchalance, pretending that I knew exactly what I was doing, that the heart wrenching cries weren't affecting me one bit. But that sweet girl just kept wailing forlornly until I finally gave in and went to rescue her.

The minute I picked her up, her crying stopped. I held her against my chest and pressed her wet cheek against mine. I tried to explain to her what we were doing. I told her we loved her. That we would always be there when she woke up. We hadn't abandoned her. And for the next ten minutes, that's how we remained - cheek to cheek, quietly absorbing our togetherness. She slept so soundly last night, exhausted from all the exercise her lungs got. We still haven't gotten the whole "put her down for a nap in her own bed" thing, but you know what, there's always another chance today. There's always tomorrow. I can hear my mother now, saying "she's only two weeks old!" And it's true. I can't imagine I'm ruining her for life by not having the whole nap time thing figured out yet.

Speaking of two weeks, she had her well check yesterday. My sweet baby has grown a whole inch since she was born!! I thought she was filling out some of her clothes better, but a whole inch?! At that rate, I almost expect to actually observe her growing before my eyes! She has regained all her birth weight plus some and the doctor gave her another stellar review. So even if we don't have this nap time figured out, I guess we're doing okay.

I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you until you love me

Violet has gotten to know lots of our friends over the last two weeks. Here are a few that I managed to capture pictures of...

Jody! Or as she calls herself, that crazy lady! Jody was one of the first people to visit us in the hospital and then totally saved my life by leaving work early to buy me a nursing bra and deliver it to the house our first night home. I swear she loves Violet as much as she loves her own niece and nephew and has called constantly to check up on us.

Emily! This girl is too sweet. She offered to come keep me company when Matt was at work, but I thought she was just coming to hang out and kiss the baby. Oh, no honey. She showed up with the ingredients to not only cook us dinner that night, but doubled her recipe so the extra meal could go in the freezer. Then she rocked my screaming child (at the expense of missing the Thursday night tv lineup), slept on the couch so she could be nearby if we needed more rocking expertise in the middle of the night, and killed a renegade roach found wandering around the house. Plus she was on hand to help me take Violet to the pediatrician and witness my first time driving in the car with the baby. All done with a calm, levelheadedness that was contagious. I never once panicked. Okay, maybe a little about the roach.

Renee endured some of Atlanta's finest Friday night rush hour traffic to come visit Violet, but insisted it was all worth it. To celebrate, we all headed to Chick-fil-a for dinner. Violet seemed pretty taken with her.

Joyce came up this past weekend for a little baby time... look how sweet they are together. I'm glad Violet is meeting all my pals because, let's face it, they're going to be a big part of her life from now on! And I'm glad all my pals love her, because she's about to become the newest member of our entourage.

I went into labor the day after Wendi's bridal shower. Naturally at the shower, I assured everyone she would be late. Little did I know! I'm glad she held off long enough for me to celebrate Wendi's big day, however!

It's so nice when people come over because not only do they ooh and ahh appropriately over our sweet little girl, but it gives me a chance to have some grown-up talk that doesn't involve diapers or breast feeding. Although since that's all I have going on in my life right now, I still tend to talk about it more than half the time. But it does help me feel a little more normal to have our friends come over for a visit. Violet likes to show off for people and act as good as gold for them, saving her true colors for her parents at 2 a.m. But hey, I'll take a happy baby when I can get one! And hopefully one of these days I'll get the hang of nursing modestly so I can quit flashing everyone when Violet wants her dinner. To all the boys who have dropped by, I apologize for making you feel uncomfortable. Apparently once you've given birth,  you lose all sense of modesty. There's nothing like a nurse barging in to your hospital room to lift up your gown and pull down your underwear to make you get over a little thing called dignity and propriety. Perhaps those will return one day, along with my ability to wear normal jeans.

On the Go

 

Hanging at Target. We've also visited Chick-fil-a a couple times.

On our first walk in the stroller! Naturally, Violet slept the entire time and woke up as soon as we were back inside. But I like to think she enjoyed herself just the same. Matt and I certainly enjoyed the outdoor time. Grandma and I might take another little stroll today if Violet feels up for it. It's so nice to get out of the house!