The baby can walk! The baby can walk! THE BABY CAN WALK!!!
How lucky am I that I got to see this?? And that I had a recording device at the ready?? Answer: Super-lucky!
Sorry for the lousy video quality, but you get the idea anyway.
Go, baby, go!!!
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Monday, August 18, 2008
Quick Hit - First Birthday
Fiona celebrated her first birthday yesterday with family, friends, and a blue-frosted cupcake just for her. I'll post more about it later, but as I myself am recovering from post birthday exhaustion, here's a quick hit for all you watchers out there. At first, Fi was tentative with the Cookie Monster cupcake. That's really her way - touch lightly and softly until she knows it's OK. Once she figured out that frosting is yummy, she dove in. Slowly and methodically to be sure; but as the second picture below reveals, also with a ferocity known only in babies on their first birthdays.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Favorite Photo Fridays - August 15
Time for another long-awaited (is there any other kind?) Favorite Photo Friday installment! Please to enjoy my impossibly adorable spawn!
This one is from June. M took a picture of Fiona's reaction when I returned from work one day. Is it any wonder I can't wait to get home every day?
Back in mid-July, Fiona and I took a trip to Arizona to visit NaiNai (my mom) for a few days. We had some professional pictures taken while there by Nnamdi Solomon. Who can resist this face? No one, that's who.
That's all you get for pictures today because there will be lots more coming after the ultimate celebration of the century (aka: Fiona's first birthday) takes place this weekend. Happy Friday, all!
This one is from June. M took a picture of Fiona's reaction when I returned from work one day. Is it any wonder I can't wait to get home every day?
Back in mid-July, Fiona and I took a trip to Arizona to visit NaiNai (my mom) for a few days. We had some professional pictures taken while there by Nnamdi Solomon. Who can resist this face? No one, that's who.
That's all you get for pictures today because there will be lots more coming after the ultimate celebration of the century (aka: Fiona's first birthday) takes place this weekend. Happy Friday, all!
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Kitchen remodeling is not for wussies
It's been quiet in 20dollarbet world lately. And that's because it's been anything but quiet in the real world for Fiona, M, Ollie, the kitties and me. Here's what I've learned in the last 6 weeks: Remodeling a kitchen is not particularly fun. And while I've never gone through a kitchen remodel without a baby in the house, I think a baby makes it even less fun. I
started badgering M about getting a new kitchen about 3 years ago when IKEA moved into the area and it seemed like it wasn't entirely financially unfeasible. It was mostly just a fun idea (especially when M refused to entertain the idea, or even banter with me about the prospect), but I did my darndest to plant the seed.
The kitchen we inherited when we bought this house was serviceable. Old, worn, and not the most convenient layout one might hope for; but altogether OK. But when we tried to refinance our mortgage last winter and couldn't because the housing market had tanked, M and I held onto something the appraiser had said. When he asked if we'd made any changes to the house since the last appraisal, I said heck, yeah, we have a new mahogany deck and pretty new front steps! Clearly that wasn't what he was looking for because he said, hopefully, "No new kitchen? Bathroom?" Sadly, no. But it was the impetus we needed.
We demolished the old kitchen (along with a wall that used to separate the kitchen from the dining area) the last weekend of June and have been living in utter chaos, filth, and general disarray since then. This remodeling business is not for the faint of heart. Luckily for us, we have a wet bar in the basement, which meant we haven't had to do dishes in our bathroom sink (although a bar sink is hardly any easier) and actually had an additional source of running water. But going up and down the stairs just to get a dish, clean a dish, microwave something, get a dish out of the way... it gets old really fast.
But I sit here tonight and I can see the finish line. The counters were installed today and I'm starting to feel human again. We have a laundry list of to-dos left in this largely DIY project - namely plumbing (oh! to have running water again... not to mention a dishwasher!!) - but we're so close. With any luck, plumbing won't be the final straw to break our spirits and we'll be back in business within a few more weeks.
Good thing, too. I can't take another pizza, bowl of cereal, take out from Chili's (which we actually abandoned quite a while ago out of disgust), or sandwich. Fiona has been a total champ, though. She scarcely noticed the mess she was living in, and accepted being contained much of the time in her Playzone (lovingly termed "baby jail") in spite of the fact that she's becoming quite the mover and shaker these days.
Short story, we're close enough that I can just about say, "Yeah, it's been worth it." Maybe I'll call the appraiser and see what he thinks.
(PS: Pictures will come at some point in the not-so-distant future.)
started badgering M about getting a new kitchen about 3 years ago when IKEA moved into the area and it seemed like it wasn't entirely financially unfeasible. It was mostly just a fun idea (especially when M refused to entertain the idea, or even banter with me about the prospect), but I did my darndest to plant the seed.
The kitchen we inherited when we bought this house was serviceable. Old, worn, and not the most convenient layout one might hope for; but altogether OK. But when we tried to refinance our mortgage last winter and couldn't because the housing market had tanked, M and I held onto something the appraiser had said. When he asked if we'd made any changes to the house since the last appraisal, I said heck, yeah, we have a new mahogany deck and pretty new front steps! Clearly that wasn't what he was looking for because he said, hopefully, "No new kitchen? Bathroom?" Sadly, no. But it was the impetus we needed.
We demolished the old kitchen (along with a wall that used to separate the kitchen from the dining area) the last weekend of June and have been living in utter chaos, filth, and general disarray since then. This remodeling business is not for the faint of heart. Luckily for us, we have a wet bar in the basement, which meant we haven't had to do dishes in our bathroom sink (although a bar sink is hardly any easier) and actually had an additional source of running water. But going up and down the stairs just to get a dish, clean a dish, microwave something, get a dish out of the way... it gets old really fast.
But I sit here tonight and I can see the finish line. The counters were installed today and I'm starting to feel human again. We have a laundry list of to-dos left in this largely DIY project - namely plumbing (oh! to have running water again... not to mention a dishwasher!!) - but we're so close. With any luck, plumbing won't be the final straw to break our spirits and we'll be back in business within a few more weeks.
Good thing, too. I can't take another pizza, bowl of cereal, take out from Chili's (which we actually abandoned quite a while ago out of disgust), or sandwich. Fiona has been a total champ, though. She scarcely noticed the mess she was living in, and accepted being contained much of the time in her Playzone (lovingly termed "baby jail") in spite of the fact that she's becoming quite the mover and shaker these days.
Short story, we're close enough that I can just about say, "Yeah, it's been worth it." Maybe I'll call the appraiser and see what he thinks.
(PS: Pictures will come at some point in the not-so-distant future.)
Monday, July 14, 2008
Kissy
Yesterday was a banner day for Fiona and me. For the most part, it was a normal Sunday. She and I went out and about to run errands (i.e., I dragged her through a couple of stores in her stroller while she came patiently along for the ride). By the time we got home in the late afternoon, she was good and mellow after being exposed to so much rampant consumerism. I understand this feeling, it has the same effect on me.
To make what would usually be a very long story with lots of background short, I'll get right to the point. I got my first baby kiss from Fiona yesterday. An honest-to-goodness kiss. I had to ask, plead, beg, and otherwise cajole it out of her. But suddenly she gave in (after approximately 8 months of me trying to convince her that it would be fun to give Mommy a smooch).
I've since learned from others that babies don't do much in the way of puckering. It's all mouth. This would explain why what I really got was less kiss and more slobber. But it was terribly, terribly sweet. When she planted her drooly little 'O' mouth on mine, my heart just melted. This is what makes the (admittedly rare) late night or midnight waking worth it (not to mention a million other things).
So far there's been no repeat smooch, but this wasn't her first (kiss #1 went to Grampa, M's dad, a few weeks ago - and while it wasn't to me, I didn't feel too badly about it because at least I got to see it), so it certainly won't be her last. Tomorrow, we fly out to Arizona to visit NaeNae (my mother). Perhaps we can convince her to shell out a few more smooches.
To make what would usually be a very long story with lots of background short, I'll get right to the point. I got my first baby kiss from Fiona yesterday. An honest-to-goodness kiss. I had to ask, plead, beg, and otherwise cajole it out of her. But suddenly she gave in (after approximately 8 months of me trying to convince her that it would be fun to give Mommy a smooch).
I've since learned from others that babies don't do much in the way of puckering. It's all mouth. This would explain why what I really got was less kiss and more slobber. But it was terribly, terribly sweet. When she planted her drooly little 'O' mouth on mine, my heart just melted. This is what makes the (admittedly rare) late night or midnight waking worth it (not to mention a million other things).
So far there's been no repeat smooch, but this wasn't her first (kiss #1 went to Grampa, M's dad, a few weeks ago - and while it wasn't to me, I didn't feel too badly about it because at least I got to see it), so it certainly won't be her last. Tomorrow, we fly out to Arizona to visit NaeNae (my mother). Perhaps we can convince her to shell out a few more smooches.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Favorite Photo Fridays - June 20
Been a while since you got your photo fix, eh?
Please to enjoy today's "aww"-inducing shots! Happy Friday, people!
This one was taken earlier this month and, I think, shows just how pretty a little girl Fiona is becoming. I may be biased. But I'm pretty sure that's just a fundamental truth.
This one is from last month. Nothing much to say about it other than what a cute couple we make.
This one makes me laugh because it shows what happens when a baby literally passes out from being tired (why won't they just sleep when they're tired??), regardless of what they're doing at the time. Fiona had found the post of her swing super-enthralling before succumbing to sleep.
That's all for this week. Have a great weekend, everybody!
Please to enjoy today's "aww"-inducing shots! Happy Friday, people!
This one was taken earlier this month and, I think, shows just how pretty a little girl Fiona is becoming. I may be biased. But I'm pretty sure that's just a fundamental truth.
This one is from last month. Nothing much to say about it other than what a cute couple we make.
This one makes me laugh because it shows what happens when a baby literally passes out from being tired (why won't they just sleep when they're tired??), regardless of what they're doing at the time. Fiona had found the post of her swing super-enthralling before succumbing to sleep.
That's all for this week. Have a great weekend, everybody!
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Month Nine Stats
Fiona's nine month wellbaby appointment took place right smack in the middle of naptime, so she was pretty much pissed the entire time. That's okay, we've got stats to share anyway!
Weight: 20 pounds, 6.6 ounces (down 3.4 ounces from her 6-month checkup). The South Beach Baby Diet we put Fiona on has clearly worked. We were pretty concerned with her excessive girth, and felt that she was going to be unable to compete in today's cutthroat world of thin and sexy babies. How was she ever going to get ahead in life?
Of course, I'm kidding. We love our super-chub baby. The doctor wasn't particularly concerned with her weight, although we're supposed to keep an eye on it. Considering she was previously in the 97th percentile for weight (and also considering the change in her height) this change is not terribly surprising. In any case, she's now in the range of the 50th to 75th percentile in weight.
Height: 29 1/4 inches, a gain of 2 1/2 inches. So while Fiona was more or less static in terms of weight, she was busy shooting up like a chubby-thighed weed. As a result, she moved from the 55th percentile in height to the 90th, and is now officially too big for her infant carseat. We'd switched over to her convertible seat shortly after her 6-month appointment thinking she was going to surpass the 22 pound weight limit. Obviously, she hasn't done that yet, but given that the height limit is 29 inches, we can now safely pack her first seat away.
The rest of the appointment was relatively standard fare with the exception of the occasional, explosive shrieking my poor nap-deprived baby emitted. I actually had to hold her head steady while the doctor looked in her ears and eyes. No shots this time around, but she did have her finger pricked and milked for a few drops of blood, which will be tested for lead and, I think, iron levels. Naturally, she was not a fan; and just like when she gets her shots, I felt terrible holding her down just so someone else could cause her pain. Necessary, yes. But hard to bear, too.
All in all, she remains a very healthy little girl. And by the time we got to the front desk to pay the co-pay and make our 12-month appointment (12 months!!), Fiona was her usual happy little self, sucking contentedly on the sparkly, kid-bandaid on her poor priced finger. And I'm pretty sure she doesn't hold my treasonous behavior against me.
Weight: 20 pounds, 6.6 ounces (down 3.4 ounces from her 6-month checkup). The South Beach Baby Diet we put Fiona on has clearly worked. We were pretty concerned with her excessive girth, and felt that she was going to be unable to compete in today's cutthroat world of thin and sexy babies. How was she ever going to get ahead in life?
Of course, I'm kidding. We love our super-chub baby. The doctor wasn't particularly concerned with her weight, although we're supposed to keep an eye on it. Considering she was previously in the 97th percentile for weight (and also considering the change in her height) this change is not terribly surprising. In any case, she's now in the range of the 50th to 75th percentile in weight.
Height: 29 1/4 inches, a gain of 2 1/2 inches. So while Fiona was more or less static in terms of weight, she was busy shooting up like a chubby-thighed weed. As a result, she moved from the 55th percentile in height to the 90th, and is now officially too big for her infant carseat. We'd switched over to her convertible seat shortly after her 6-month appointment thinking she was going to surpass the 22 pound weight limit. Obviously, she hasn't done that yet, but given that the height limit is 29 inches, we can now safely pack her first seat away.
The rest of the appointment was relatively standard fare with the exception of the occasional, explosive shrieking my poor nap-deprived baby emitted. I actually had to hold her head steady while the doctor looked in her ears and eyes. No shots this time around, but she did have her finger pricked and milked for a few drops of blood, which will be tested for lead and, I think, iron levels. Naturally, she was not a fan; and just like when she gets her shots, I felt terrible holding her down just so someone else could cause her pain. Necessary, yes. But hard to bear, too.
All in all, she remains a very healthy little girl. And by the time we got to the front desk to pay the co-pay and make our 12-month appointment (12 months!!), Fiona was her usual happy little self, sucking contentedly on the sparkly, kid-bandaid on her poor priced finger. And I'm pretty sure she doesn't hold my treasonous behavior against me.
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