the many faces of mah-nah-nay

"mah-nah-nay" is Lil's name for Mariel. 

Mariel is now 6 weeks old, and very expressive. For the first few weeks of her life, she mostly looked serious, and we assumed this was normal for an election year baby. But after the devastation of hurricane Sandy,  she's got some things to ponder. For instance, "Is Mike Bloomberg really wearing a salmon pink sweater—again?" and, "Why did it them take so long to cancel the Marathon?" and, "When will Fresh Direct come back?" possibly even, "Why is Ali Velshi still standing out there?"

It's anyone's guess what that little face is trying to tell us. Probably something about boobs, The Cat's tail, dada's chest hair, or Lil and the paci, since that's pretty much all that comprises her sphere of reality. Lucky girl.

By the way—you should do Lil and Bitty a favor by donating to The Red Hook Initiative, so that they can continue to provide comfort to our neighbors in Red Hook, Brooklyn, who are still without electricity, hot water, or heat. For one thing, RHI has been bring hot meals to the residents stuck in high rises— without elevators! We're humbled by their exemplary service to this underprivileged community.  

video: bubble beards

Lil loves bubbles. And from time to time she has a dirty face. The obvious solution is the bath time bubble beard. It's cute, it's fun, and it gets the job done.

Squeaky Clean!

lil and the wee bitty

I did warn you that we would be gone for a little while so that the wee Bitty could come into the world, didn't I? She finally arrived about three and a half weeks ago, on September 24, weighing in at a svelte 7 pounds, 10 oz. It's impressive that she was nearly a full pound smaller than Lil at birth, considering I binged on Easter candy for the entire first trimester. I won't go into details about the labor and delivery, but the first words that come to mind are "easy, peasy."

Miss Mariel Margaret, 17 days old

So far, Lil appears to like her new sister, whom she calls, "das bebee." She points to Bitty's head, her eyes, her wee hands and feet. She also informs us whenever "das bebee cry," in case we didn't notice or weren't paying attention. She is fascinated by the paci, and she understands that the baby nurses in order to drink milk, and thinks the breast pump is fun and exciting. I suppose someone ought to.

paternity leave, day 18.

In this immediate postpartum phase, I'm relieved that my body is once again (mostly) mine. I'm not saying this because it's nice to be done with the indigestion and insomnia, though it does make for more restful sleep. I'm happy to feel like I can be Lil's mama again. Even though I usually have a Bitty bundle in one arm, I've gotten lots of chances to sit on the floor and play with Lil, let her sit on my now vacant lap and read a story, bend down to get a kiss, or rock her to sleep at night. Even though the challenge of raising two little girls is just beginning, I'm glad to be able enough to mother them both.

two girls, one mama

my one and only

It's nearing the time when Lil will no longer be my one and only. I adore her so much, but sometimes think that the next few months will be hardest on her. I fear that I'll neglect her in certain ways, that she'll lack for attention and affection. All the strength and independence she showed as a baby is harder to see now, at least for me. I just see this little girl who needs guidance and patience, and within days her mama will be short on both (not to mention mental clarity, emotional fortitude, and sound judgement).

So in these final days of Lil's Only-Childhood, I am giving it my all. And I'm soaking up every moment, every word, every smile, every tear. Every time I successfully hoist her into her high chair, or lay her in her crib without dropping her. I take extra time putting her to bed, rocking her just a few more times even as she tries to wiggle free. I get hugs and kisses more often. I give her cookies whenever she asks. I bend to her whims with ease even though I cannot bend to reach the floor. For now she is my only baby, my only child, and I will love her like no other.

I only have eyes for you (maybe)...

i came, i saw, i corn-quered.

I'm not sure how to translate that into Latin...

It took five days for me to do this post. Seriously. It's in direct correlation with my ever-expanding waistline. Thank you, pending baby, for making me the laziest mama-blogger on the planet. Poor Lil. She's constantly showing off her adorable new skills and Mama just sits there and says, "good job, Lil." No cameras, no uploads, no new posts. The guilt is overwhelming, I can assure you. 

Getting on with it– Lil can now eat corn on the cob! This is a huge milestone for us. I didn't expect Lil to chomp any c.o.t.c until next summer at the earliest. I am pretty sure this is NYS corn (not that bastard sweetcorn from PA) which may explain her sudden lust for our favorite summer side dish.

It's safe to say she found it quite nummy. I think the only thing that would've made her happier is a chocolate cupcake. In my opinion, it's a toss-up.

the aftermath

lil baller

Lil really likes throwing things. Stuffed animals are launched from her crib at least once a day, and Mama was struck in the head by a rogue lemon last week. It's a miracle I walked away without a bruise. Lil will also throw herself on the floor in a fit of despair from time to time. What she really loves to throw is this wool dryer ball that we used at our old place when adding fluff to the laundry was important. Now it's the perfect Lil-sized ball, firm enough to get a good grip, but soft enough not to damage Mama or any of the household items. Everyday Lil's arm gets stronger and more accurate. Most impressive is the fact that she'll wait to throw until the count of three...

I wonder how small of a baseball glove I can find. Shoulda looked in Cooperstown...