Staying Alive

The countdown to her birthday begins! Pippa has crammed as many "firsts" as she can into these last few days.

Choke? Check. I did the finger swoop and pulled a freeze dried fruit snack from the back of her throat.

Falling down the stairs? Check. She has a nice knot on her forehead.

First independent steps? Check. She won't walk unless she thinks you are holding on to her.

Choke? Again? Check. I pounded her on the back and a piece of pineapple flew across the room.

Dive headfirst into the swimming pool? Check! Although that was mostly fun.

Horrible allergic reaction complete with facial swelling? Check plus. A dose of benadryl and a long sleep later everything seems fine.

If this list feels incomplete, don't worry! We have 10 days before she turns one, we can cover any firsts we need to in that time.

Miss Independent

Someday soon (hopefully by her first birthday) I'd like to collect Pippa's first year posts and print them in a lovely book for her to read when she's older. She does so many lovely interesting things each day that amaze me. Tonight was no different.

Five minutes before bed time we jumped into the shower for a quick rinsing of dinner. I had the washcloth dampened and posed Pippa for a scrub. She furiously shook her head no, making it nearly impossible to wash every nook and cranny. I kept trying and failing. So I decided to scrub my face so she could see what was going to happen.

This encouraged her. She grabbed the washcloth and started washing my face. Then laughing, she started to wash behind her ears, and her cheeks. When I'd reach for the washcloth to help her she'd start fussing again. So I started pointing to the areas I wanted her to wash. And she did it. I'm not saying I have the smartest baby ever, but some days it feels like it.

Baby Ka-no-leez Beloved Ka-nuffle Bunny Book

Pippa loves the Knuffle Bunny book. Loves in terms of infatuation and obsession. She lights up when she sees the cover. Pushes other books out of the way, off the shelf, throws them to the ground, just to have mommy or daddy hold the too big book in front of her. And that was enough for the first three months.

Now she demands to be read the book. She screams at me if I don't. She crawls after me babbling in the most urgent disgusted tone when I put it away. She wills me with her Jedi mind tricks to read, re-read, re-read, and re-read this book. In fact I can now recite it. In my sleep. While juggling pacifiers.

So we incorporated it into her nightly routine. At least two readings of Knuffle Bunny, complete with Pippa commentary. She points at Trixie, the little girl in the book, and laughs when Trixie talks "aggle flaggle clabble." Pippa hrrmphs when Knuffle bunny can't be found and smuggly giggles huh once Knuffle bunny and Trixie are reunited. Pippa eagerly turns each page then settles onto my lap for a good story. But somewhere in all that excitement, she reached a little too quickly and tore a page.

Knuffle Bunny is in recovery. When Pippa has learned not to bully books I'll reintroduce the two. What a reunion that will be!

Choco Kisses

Pippa has some tummy troubles, and what can you expect given her parents? Between Skip's lactose issues and my gluten sensitivity she hardly has a chance to be a normal string cheese and PBJ kid. When we traveled from Illinois to Lamar and then on to Denver her tummy said yes to many new foods and snacks. Her tummy so loved those foods it decided to keep them inside her for many, many days. The strange part about this extended episode is Pippa was not bothered by it. She was happy and smiling and minimally fussy considering the trains and cars, new beds, strange loved ones, and constipation. Skip and I on the other hand were a nervous wreck.

So when Aunt Nicole propositioned me with some delicious dark chocolate my inner dialogue went something like this:

I love Nicole. She gets me. I wonder how I can convince her to come live in Peoria. Dark chocolate. Yum....rumble! rumble!...and dark chocolate will solve the Pippa crisis! She'll get some through my breast milk. Clearly I'll need to eat extra. And I'll give her just a small taste for good measure.

Then I did exactly that, without telling Skip (who would roll his eyes at my justification and hide the chocolate from me). Pippa loved it. Really loved it. Loved in a way that the mere smell of chocolate on my breath excites her into a fury of bum scooching, head turning, climbing up my chest. Once she caught my attention she grabbed my cheeks with both hands and dove her head at me, solidly planting her open mouth and expectant tongue on my chocolaty lips.

It will be fair to blame me for her addiction. And sure enough the next morning her tummy released its pent up contents. We'll have to keep some chocolate around until her GI system is fully developed ;). Clearly we have no choice.

Pippa Monster's Christmas

There are posts to be written about baby's first Christmas, cousin love, addiction to chocolate (it's hereditary) and other such milestones. However, to write those I need to have a babysitter, in the guise of Skip Knowles, entertaining ten little fingers and one rather large head. Pippa is mobile and because she has spent many hours on Skype, she believes that mom's time on the computer is meant solely for Pippa to laugh and smile while poking at someone's nose on the computer screen. To satisfy general rules of time, I will just post some photos from our time in Colorado with a late Merry Christmas!

Dirty Thirty

You know why they call it dirty thirty? It sneaks up on you. There you are mastering your 20s, feeling satisfied with what you don't know and fully capable of making mistakes, and wham! 30 kicks you to the curb and tells you to grow up.

I fought back. I wore hot pink pants all day long, was tardy for my test, ate veggies sticks (aka potato chips) like a teenager (aka as real veggies) and licked my lips until they were chapped because I refused to come in from the cold like the little kid I once was. Pippa helped by bringing back the 80s with her adorable legwarmers.

Yes, I spent 12-12-12 reclaiming my youth. And then, after making a birthday cake at 10:30 pm, I scrubbed my sink with lemon rinds (you can't waste an opportunity like that) and gathered my yarn to crochet. Conflicting. I rebelled against my inner grandma all day and when the party should've started my true colors bled through, in a lovely shade of old gray. Dirty thirty. It aged me right into retirement.

In and Out

Drum roll.......

Nine months inside the belly.

 Nine months outside the belly.

I can only imagine what nine additional months will bring.