Hungry for milk I am

I think my baby girl is the most beautiful baby on the planet. I do. In all honesty. That is why I can say this without feeling bad.

Doesn't Kate look a little like Yoda?

Kate and the camel

Okay, I love babies as much as the next gal. Before I had Kate, I always would poke my husband and point at adorable kids, toddlers and infants, to make sure he didn't miss the cuteness. Sometimes I even had the nerve to, from a distance, wave or make faces at said children. So sue me.

But what I've learned in the last three months is that many people have no, absolutely NO personal boundaries. Do I know you? Yes? Well then yes, you can coo at my baby. But you, strange woman who just WALKED OUT OF THE BATHROOM? No, you can not pinch my baby's cheek and make some odd kissing motion with your hands that was either a blessing or a curse on my children's children. And you damn well better have washed your hands.

You see, I get it. I understand the appeal of babies. All lovely and squishy and soft. I don't mind the women (it is ALWAYS women) who just want to take a look at Kate and I don't get bothered or worked up when they lean in just a little closer to get a grin out of her. She likes the attention and who am I to deny my daughter an audience with her fan base?

But once in awhile, like today, someone takes it just a step further than I'd like them to. They get too close. They hang around a little too long. They touch, as if they have a right to touch my child. However, I'm sort of a coward and I hate offending people, so I gritted my teeth, smiled at the woman and walked away.

What I really wanted to do was whip out my hand sanitizer and rub it all over Kate's face.

When I was in China, my friends and I were heading up to climb a section of the Great Wall (stay with me here, this tangent has a point). On the side of the road was a camel. A Chinese camel. Obviously we needed a photo of this great creature, but as we all pulled out our cameras a man ran over and stood in front of us, waving his arms and keeping us from taking the photo. You see, you had to PAY to take photos of this camel. This Chinese camel on the side of the road. And forget about touching the camel. Riding it cost extra.

We were all a little confused. The camel wasn't behind glass, or in a cage or foreclosure. The camel was just SITTING ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD. How come we couldn't just take a picture or pet an animal sitting on the side of the road? Well, excuse the comparison, but I think babies are all a little like this Chinese camel. Everyone wants to stop and stare and touch. And they see nothing wrong with that, because a baby, like a Chinese camel is a pretty compelling site. But I think that from now on I'm going to take a page from our China experience, and if someone tries to get a little too up close and personal with Kate, I'll be standing in front of her, waving my arms and letting folks know that she isn't currently available for photos or petting.

Mommy lesson #6

There are beauty and blessings in each and every day.

Some days it is easy to see them.

Some days it isn't.

But if you look, if you truly look, even the hardest day has that one moment that makes it all worthwhile. Today, on this day, I saw it in Kate's huge smile when she saw me first thing in the morning. And that small token from my daughter makes it all okay.

Don't Kate me because I'm beautiful

In honor of Kate's three months of cuteness on this earth, I've put together the obligatory montage video, crudely cobbled together with crappy Microsoft software, the few good video clips we have and I think some duct tape. Behold, three months of Kate.

Happy birthday baby girl. We love you.

An abbreviated rant

So I had great intentions of writing a brilliant post tonight. Something about how my doctors MAY have known what they were talking about when they told me not to gain too much pregnancy weight. And how people were straight out LYING to me when they told me the baby weight would just "fall off" if I were breast feeding.

And then I was going to gripe about the frustration of needing to work out, but feeling so big and uncomfortable that the gym is the LAST place I want to be. You know, because everyone who goes to a gym is in SHAPE, which is intimidating and depressing. Besides, running is nearly impossible when your thighs rub together so much you get rug burn just thinking about wearing shorts, and your breasts are the approximate size and heft of large sacks of flour. Or anvils. Thanks to breast feeding, either analogy seems appropriate.

However, Ben is traveling and my little Drill Sargent is having a rough time getting to sleep. Which means I'm too tired/frazzled/annoyed to write the damn post, so you get the above cliff notes version. Now I'm off to rock a cranky infant and have a very frank debate with her about the pros and cons of keeping us both awake.

My baby is cooler than your baby

So, I'll admit it. I used to be one of those people that sneered at parents who had those bumper stickers on their cars, the ones that announced their child was an honor student, or some similar achievement. I always gave a mental high-five to the parents with the "My kid can kick your honor student's ass" bumper stickers, giving points for humor, humility and honesty about their offspring's real talents.

But now, I totally understand the "my kid is the smartest, greatest, most intelligent child on the planet... and really adorable to boot" mentality. And the need to shout it from the rooftops (or from the blogosphere). So where do I sign up for the "My baby is cooler than your baby" bumper sticker? Truly, I'm ready to slap that puppy on the window and go for a drive.

This week (Monday, June 1 to be exact) Kate rolled over for the first time. I was on the floor with her during tummy time, and my mom was watching us while talking on the phone and when it happened, we both just looked at each other like "Did Kate just roll over?" I was flabbergasted that it happened so quickly and with so little fan fair. I am not sure what I expected, but something along the lines of a marching band crashing through our living room seemed appropriate.

This just felt like such a momentous achievement. My mom was fairly certain it was an accident and took Kate by surprise as much as it did us. But then she did it again the next night. And by the time Ben was back in town, Kate would flip over nearly seconds after being put on her tummy. She never liked tummy time anyways, and now she realized that by just raising up on her arms and flinging her big ol' noggin over with reckless abandon she could end tummy time quickly.

Genius, thy name is Kate.

And while I pat myself on the back for having perhaps the smartest child of all time, I realize that all parents feel this way. And I realize that rolling over at 10 weeks doesn't necessarily put Kate up for a Nobel Prize. And yes, for all you other mothers out there, I also realize that my baby probably really isn't cooler than your baby. Not to you anyways. But you have to be honest. At those moments when you are staring at your amazing little human who completely BLOWS YOUR MIND with each new day, you KNOW you are thinking it too.

My baby is TOTALLY cooler than your baby.

And no, we don't have video of this achievement just yet. We were in Tulsa with the grandparents and of course left the camera back at home. Because that is just what you do, you buy a video camera to capture all those momentous occasions and then you never have it with you when you need it.