skinny jeans

Today is a good day. The baby is asleep, I’m sipping freshly brewed coffee AND I’m wearing my old skinny jeans. The really old ones. Like almost before I started wearing low rise jeans. Well not that old. I’ll never go back to waisted tapered leg jeans again.

With my body type it’s best if I stick to low rise flare leg style forever. I don’t even care if my daughter is embarrassed of me when she gets old enough to know better. I’m sorry, but I look terrible in tapered legged jeans. They are so unflattering to my ample sized butt and speed skater thighs. I’ll go right along with every other 80’s revival trend but peg leg jeans will never touch my womanly shape again. Not unless I grow another gallbladder.

We’ll see how long this skinny jean wearing lasts. Hopefully longer than Baby Bug’s nap. Gotta run, I hear somebody waking up!

the cute things she does

I’ve been trying to figure out how I’m going to tell this story for days now. It involves sound effects and no matter what kind of wordsmith I think I am, I can’t figure out how to properly describe the punch line to this story. Not that it’s a funny joke or anything. I don’t want to lead you on that much. It’s just about this funny thing I caught Baby Bug doing the other day.

First of all some background: Baby Bug and I play this game where we bump foreheads and cuddle. I make this sound that I can’t describe with words but it’s kind of an “aaaaaaahhhhh” sound up and down the scale in soft notes. I do it to her and then she does it back to me and then I say something like “Love the baby” over and over. She’s so darling when she does this to me. I just love her to pieces.

Well. The other day we were doing our other ritual called “put the baby down for a nap”. This ritual is not so fun and loving. It usually involves lots of crying and fussing and throwing the pacifier on the floor that has to be retrieved and so on and so on. We are not yet to the point where I can just put her in her crib at the scheduled time and she will fall asleep all by herself. No. It’s a battle. And according to my Mom, not a battle I’m going to win. Apparently, I was just like Baby Bug and I NEVER ever wanted to take a nap. I officially gave them up at the young age of two. TWO! So yeah, I’ve got my work cut out for me.

Sometimes, when soft stroking of her forehead and singing and rocking and low light and her soft fuzzy bunny in her bed with her don’t work, I try the other route. I close the door and ignore the sad pitiful cries of desperation. And boy are they desperate. She will try every trick in the book to get me to come back in the room and console her. From blowing raspberries to singing to crying until her voice is gone, she will try her whole repertoire of sounds mixed in with sad pathetic whimpers of pain. I hate it. It’s like slowly tearing my fingernails backwards as I sit in the other room watching the minute hand on our kitchen clock slowly tick by the allotted amount of time before I give in and go back in to comfort her.

After going through this routine for about twenty minutes the other day, she became suddenly quiet. Eerily so. I tiptoed to her room and peeked around the nearly shut door. Could she be asleep already? Did she give in at last? Nope. There she was sitting up and holding her pink fuzzy bunny to her forehead and softly saying “aaaaaaaah” as she nuzzled it with her head. Just like she does with me. It melted my heart. My little baby girl, she’s loving her bunny. How cute is that?!!!

I don’t remember how the rest of the nap went. Whether I gave in and let her get up and play or if she finally did exhaust herself to sleep. These nap battles kind of blur into each other. I’m trying like mad to be consistent and teach her to take a nap but I’m a wet noodle when it comes to routine and schedules and sticking to my guns. I think she’s learning. Learning what I’m not sure. Sometimes she goes right down but other days, like today, she totally skipped her morning nap altogether. She took a noon nap (which is not regular at all) and then completely crashed at five-thirty p.m. It’s now seven-thirty p.m. and I have no idea if she’s down for the night or if she’ll wake up wanting dinner at nine. She has been getting in the habit of going to bed at seven (and with the time change that turned into six) so maybe she’s down for the night. And maybe that means I’ll be getting up with her at 3:30 in the morning and having breakfast at four. Joy.

Sarcasm aside, isn’t joy what being a parent is all about? Toby and I were talking about how much more joyful we are on a daily basis because of this darling little munchkin that we have tottering about us all day. She really does bring us more happiness than I ever imagined.

Now if only I could figure out how to make a wave file so I could post the “aaaaaah” sound. Maybe I’ll catch her doing it again for her 10 month movie.