Wednesday, March 21, 2012

4 Months Old

Today Annie is four months old.  She is bossy and temperamental, charming and bright-eyed, and has loads of spunk and fire.  She's always ornery during weeknights after long days at daycare, but always smiling again in the morning.  She is resolute and more self-assured than I am at the cusp of 30.  She has no hair, rolls of chub and is about two feet tall but that girl OWNS IT. 

Frankly, I'm a bit intimidated. 

Last week I told her daycare provider to let me know if she was more fussy than usual as I was supplementing a lot of frozen milk in her diet.  Fran, her teacher, said, "Oh, honey, don't you worry - oh, she'll let us know!  She is not one to hide her opinion on anything."  And then a few days later: "We put Annie in the exersaucer and she just sat there with her head held high like she owned the room!"

Matt and I are scared.  And tickled.

It's a privilege to watch this spitfire grow-up.  To date, she can:
  • Raise her eyebrow in a look that can only be interpreted as, "You gotta be kidding me" or "I said I wanted the boob five minutes ago - what?  Do I have to ask again?"
  • Screech like a raptor
  • Have lovers quarrels with her stuffed peacock, Jacques
  • Grab necklaces off my neck seemingly saying, "You know this would look much better on me."
  • Wiggle out of her swaddle wrap Houdini-style
  • Giggle (only when something is up to her brand of humor, mind you)
  • And burst into big, gummy smiles when she spots you from her crib in the morning

In all seriousness, she's wonderful little person to have around.  Annie is delightful (well...on the weekends), sleeps through the nights, and keeps dazzling us with the silliest of things.  We're smitten.

Happy third of a year, kiddo! 

Sizing me up over dinner.

Monday, March 19, 2012

A Time Out

I always say I'm going to blog when I put the baby down at night.  I always say I'm going to clean, too.  And do my laundry.  And pay my doctor bill, and respond to that email, and dear god, shave my armpits.  None of this actually gets done, mind you.  Our house is a mess: Annie's outfits are piled on our couch, yesterday's dishes are by the stove, and I have gone a week without putting the toilet paper on the roll.

But today we took advantage of the balmy weather, the leftover sunlight, and the fact that Annie got a new hat in the mail (and the fact she let me plop that thing on her head for 10 minutes) and had an impromptu family outing in our very own backyard. 

I've never felt less guilty about letting the messes of life pile up.