cindy's world

Mr. W and I took this past Monday off and set off with Allie on Saturday morning for her first trip to Vegas. It’s not the kind of trip you’d expect. We were going to visit his parents, 2 brothers and the brothers’ families, not to play on The Strip. It would be Allie’s first time meeting everyone in his family aside from his parents, who had visited us in California when Allie was about 3 months old.

Allie did really well on the drive there. Given that Mr. W makes a 5 hours drive in more like 3 hours, we didn’t spend that much time in the car. When her regular 9 a.m. naptime rolled around in the car, Allie just simply went to sleep on her own in her carseat. When she awoke, we stopped for a diaper change and feeding in Baker, took her into an old restaurant, plopped her in a high chair while we had lunch, she people-watched and drank water dropped into her mouth from a straw, then we hit the road again. 12:30p rolled around quickly and she went to sleep again. Unfortunately, that nap only lasted half an hour because Mr. W drove too fast. We got to Allie’s grandparents’ house by 1:30p and immediately commenced to turn their living room into Allie’s playground.

Allie’s wearing a Cubs outfit because it was a gift from a coworker, who kinda assumed that because Mr. W’s family is from Chicago that he’d be a Cubs fan. He’s a White Sox fan, as with most members of his family, except for Rocker Bro. I sent this photo to Rocker Bro with the caption, “Hi Uncle Jimmy, guess where I am!” It was a quiet relaxing Saturday at grandma and grandpa’s, and we set up Allie’s playyard/bed in a spare room, blasted white noise on her iPad (yes, HER iPad, Mr. W’s 1st generation that he’d replaced with the 3rd generation), and she went down for the night on time like a pro. She did wake up and wail twice, the first because the clocks at the house chimed each hour with a lot of sound effects, and Mr. W’s parents took the battery out of that clock for the rest of the weekend. The second wake-up, she just gave a wail, then a whimper, and was quiet again. It was a challenge with no cameras to know what was going on in there, but I didn’t want to open the door and go in to check on her because that may wake her up, and if she sees me, she wasn’t going to go back to sleep.

On Sunday, it was crazy meet the family day. Everyone and their mothers (and grandmothers and grandchildren and babies) came to the house to hang out throughout the day. Allie was GREAT with all the new faces, and she in particular liked to crawl to the little girls, reach out her hand, and interact with them. She taught Rocker Bro how to crawl…

…she had her first rocking horse ride…

…she showed everyone how she now stands, and claps (started clapping Friday), and makes funny faces. See funny face in 24-second video below. 😀

Naps were challenging that day because the noise level was high, but she still went down in her room at grandma and grandpa’s and was transferred into the play yard just fine. She didn’t stay down long for the second nap, just 30 minutes, but you’d never know it by how well-tempered she was into the evening, even tho we had to delay her bedtime by an hour because people were still over. I ended up just staying in the room with her for the second nap, hiding behind the blocked-off section of her play yard, because I wouldn’t be able to check on her to see if she was awake from outside of the room without opening the door and letting in immense volumes of people laughing, TV blasting, kids running around playing. Who would nap when they’d rather be out joining in that much fun, right? Even tho that nap was short, I was pleasantly surprised how the white noise eliminated a large amount of outside voices, except for the sounds of metal hitting counters or kids running and screaming close to her room. She slept pretty well that night with no audible wake-ups.

The car ride home was more of the same; her morning naptime hit, she yawned and just went to sleep. When she woke up from that first nap, we were a bit far from stuff so she got a little impatient, straining against the seat belt and yelling to be let out. I had to entertain her with songs, hand-tricks, pretenses of eating her foot and hand, all of which worked for only so long before I had to resort to what I didn’t want to — a cartoon video of some Miss Spider’s Tea Party something-or-other on iPad. She watched that for awhile and when she once again got impatient, thankfully we got to a shopping retail outlet and pulled over. I changed her in a relatively empty food court restroom’s baby station, but there was nowhere to feed her. I decided that a Maidenform employee was more apt to help me than a Guess employee, so I popped my head into the store and asked across the racks of bras on sale, “I’m sorry, I have a random question. Do you know where there may be a restroom with a lounge where I can nurse my baby?” The employee pointed out a couple of possibilities, but then offered her store’s changing room. She said the benches in there aren’t too comfortable, but it’s private and quiet and air-conditioned. I thanked her gratefully for her very generous offer and were shown to a room. Allie took a look around once we were in and let out an amused half-chuckle.
“Huh!” she said.
“I know this is weird, but it works!” I told her. And she ate and ate until her little tummy was round. We walked around the outlet a bit after that, bought her some cute outfits at Old Navy, then got back in the car. Remember the bear from the sheriff’s department she’s addicted to sleeping on? It put her right to sleep for her second nap, too. She was SO HAPPY to see it.

Many babies have a security toy, stuffed animal, or blankie…my kid has a giant bear rug.

Mr. W flew home amidst warning indicator lights and beeps that came on in his car that said “PROBLEM.” We dropped his car off at the dealership maintenance department soon after we got home and unpacked. Turned out the oil was so low that he may have damaged his engine, as for each hard turn or hard braking he did, the oil would drop below the sensor level and set off the indicator warning. He’s going to try just topping off the oil regularly instead of spending $4K on a new engine just yet. Ack.

Just for poops and giggles, here’s a 2-minute clip from Monday after our return home, when Allie was playing with Mr. W. She likes to arch her back now and see the world upside-down, like I did when I was her age.

And here’s a video of something Mr. W was excited about all weekend, Allie standing on her own and clapping. He kept saying Allie stood for like 10 seconds unsupported and clapped, but I never saw it, cuz every time I came over from making her next batch of new food puree (sweet potatoes this time!), she’d see me and get distracted and not do it. She’d wave and smile at me, tho. In this video, she does stand and clap, but not for 10 seconds. (The couch behind her is plush leather on the bottom and sides, and plush microfiber on top, so don’t worry, there aren’t hard edges for her to fall against.)

Here’s something else we discovered on Monday. She now holds the bottle by herself! We don’t bottlefeed her because when we’re home, she’s exclusively nursed, but I’d wanted to use up some milk that Jayne had out and thawed but didn’t use.

I wonder what else she does that we aren’t aware of. Maybe she sells original artwork and sculptures online.

We had a new person, also a vet hospital technician, come by and medicate Dodo day and night. She cost double what the other girl (who was not available last weekend) charged, but it was okay by me to pay her $20 each trip because Dodo was in good hands. Catherine loves cats, has cats of her own, is used to taking care of animals at her job, and even plans to get a Scottish Fold like Dodo as her next cat. I got text updates from her telling me how everything was going at the house, and she even stayed after meds to clean up after Dodo’s litter, make sure food/water is clean and plentiful, and give him lots of love and attention.

Okay, this is going to be one of those “my misery = your entertainment” posts.

The courthouse doesn’t provide a private area where I can go pump (for breastmilk) during my working hours, so I use my jury deliberation room attached and adjacent to my courtroom when we’re not in trial and we don’t have jurors. I hang a “SORRY, OCCUPIED” sign on the door, close the jury room door and switch on the double electric pump at the far end sitting at a small table toward the back.

This morning, my judge was using the jury room for a mandatory settlement conference on a case, and when he does that during a pump time, he invites me to use his private chambers to pump, telling me to lock his door, so I did. When I came back to the courtroom, my courtroom assistant told me that the building’s maintenance guy just walked right through the courtroom earlier toward the jury room, unresponsive to her calling out, “Excuse me! Excuse me! Can I help you, sir? Excuse me!” and opened the door into the jury room and went right in. You would think someone who works for a courthouse would know better than to just barge into closed rooms, especially during working hours. Lots of confidential stuff goes on around here (as with the settlement conference), and it would be a pretty big problem if there had been a jury in there deliberating. The courtroom assistant said he must’ve been turned away by the judge, because he came back out looked a little bewildered, and she explained to him that there’s a conference taking place in the room. He said he first saw that we weren’t having a trial, and she told him there are other things that happen in a courtroom aside from trials, such as what he’d walked in on. In telling me this story, she added, “What if you were in there pumping and I wasn’t here and he just walked in?” I said well, I would think that he’d have learned from this morning and would now know better than to just barge into a closed room. She offered that, for my lunchtime pumping, if I would wait for her to come back from lunch she’d sit outside the jury room and guard it. I laughed, but can’t wait because I would need to pump in the middle of lunch, not after it.

So after lunch, I put the sign on the door, closed it, settled into my chair, turned on the pumps, and attached myself to it. A minute later, sure enough, the door opened suddenly behind me, no warning, no knock. I turned my head and called out as the maintenance guy’s bearded head appeared, “I’m in here, I need some privacy, please!”
He pointed toward the bathroom, still coming in. “I just need to –”
“No, I need some privacy.”
He pointed again, taking another step in. “I’m just gonna –”
“No, no,” I shook my head emphatically at him. “Please close the door.”
He started in and said, “So I’ll just go ahead?”
“No. No. No. I’m pumping.” As he started in again, I said, “No. No. I’m pumping!”
“So I can’t –” He started saying.
I cut him off again, not believing I’m sitting here still arguing with him. “No. I’m pumping. I need privacy, please. Close the door now, thank you.” He started to say something again, and I said very firmly, “Please. Close the door, please.” OMG. He finally left.

After that disruption, I sat in disbelief, and got more and more upset as I saw that my body was not having a let-down. I’d heard that if interrupted or startled, a mother’s body will not release milk. I did not want to find out that it’s true, but apparently, it is true. All that time wasted sitting there trying to get milk to come out, more time wasted washing and drying pump parts, all for less than 2 ounces of milk. Allie could slurp that up and not even notice she’d swallowed anything (a bottle feeding for her is 7, 7.5 ounces). THAT pissed me off more than anything. I didn’t even waste a milk storage bag on it, just poured it into small storage vial and stuck it in the fridge.

I called the coordinator person who had called for the maintenance guy and told her that I know the guy was just doing his job, and he’s a very effective repair-person and a good guy, but if he’s working in a courthouse, he NEEDS to know certain common sense things about being here during working hours. I explained what happened this morning and when I got to the part about what happened earlier when I was in there, she gave a loud gasp. I said that given that he thinks he’s exempt to closed doors and signs and doesn’t even knock or anything before going into places, what if I’d been in the bathroom PEEING when he went in to fix the faucet drip? I’d have to convince him to leave from the other side of the stall?! I realized I was practically yelling on the phone and realized soon after that I have no control over my volume or tone, so I just told her in the same yelling emphatic voice I’d been using through this entire conversation, “Can you to talk to him, please? I can’t talk to him, I’m too worked up right now. And please be nice, I know he was just doing his job, but he doesn’t get it.” She laughed and said she understood, she’ll talk to him, and nicely.

Allie skipped a nap for the past 2 days in a row. She had been doing pretty well before that, taking her 2 naps for usually over an hour each. Yesterday, she skipped her morning nap and took her afternoon nap an hour early and stayed down for 90 minutes or so. Today, she skipped her afternoon nap altho her morning nap lasted almost 90 minutes. Jayne is totally frazzled because when Allie doesn’t get her sleep, she is crabby. According to Jayne, she’s also been unusually dependent, protesting and wailing if left alone for a bit, or even put down sometimes. Both days, Allie crashed while playing at various times out of sheer exhaustion, and both nights, she had to be put to bed early and knocked out easily. Tonight while I nursed her to sleep, she was the limpest I’d ever seen her. It was like she was drugged. I sat her up to switch sides and she just stayed asleep, sagging against me while I had her in sitting position. I did get her to wake up, whimpering, to eat a little on the second side, but that lasted 3 minutes before she was out cold again. Poor baby.

I love that she’s super-happy to see me when I come in the room and would stop what she’s doing as recognition crosses her face, and she’d break out in a big smile. I open and close my fist in a wave to her from across the room or from the upstairs landing while she’s downstairs, and she locks eyes with me, smiles, reaches her hand toward me, and open and closes her little hand in her greeting back to me.

Jayne was reading The Wonder Weeks when I walked in this evening after getting home from work. She said that Allie seems to be in the middle of a developmental leap so Jayne’s relieved “it’s not [her].” Sure enough, the book says Wonder Week 37, the World of Categories, begins its first phase at approximately 34 weeks (or between 32 and 37 weeks) and the second phase at about 37 seeks. As baby learns to see and associate details with things, baby learns that a cat is an animal like a cow, but it is not a cow. Pea puree is food like water, but it is green and comes from a bowl and tastes different. And then the baby’s working on new physical skills, too. Language, emotions, understanding the two from others. Brain waves show drastic changes at this time. The baby feels overwhelmed by all the new information bombarding its brain, which will cause some or all of the following fussy signs:
* crying more easily than usual
* seeming cranky, whiny, fidgety, grumpy, bad-tempered, discontented, unmanageable, restless, or impatient
* jealous and clingy
* sleeping less
Yes, yes, yes, and yes. All of the above. Also, I learned that they are now old enough to have nightmares. This explains the 2 nights when, about an hour after going to sleep, she suddenly woke up screaming and crying. This didn’t last more than minutes or less until she laid down and konked out again. I had wondered whether she was having night terrors, but she’s too young for those and nightmares make sense. This chapter in “Wonder Weeks” seem to be talking specifically about Allie, even down to the “When you set your baby down to be dressed, undressed, or changed, she may protest, scream wriggle, act impatient, and be unmanageable. Most babies do now.” This is why I start the changing/dressing routine at 6p and finish at 6:20 deaf and sweaty. The books says this fussy period lasts about 4 weeks. =P

But it’s cool. I tell myself, it’s okay if she misses a few naps as she goes through this phase. It’s okay if she’s sweeter than moon pie (which hubby introduced me to a couple years ago and I still gag now thinking about it) one minute, leaning back in my arms and cuddling against my shoulder, then suddenly bounces impatiently and tries to wriggle out while voicing a big loud complaint the next. She’s growing, she’ll get over this, and she’ll live. Unlike the toddler who is the reason for our preliminary hearing the past 2 days. Today, my judge held the defendant (baby’s mother’s boyfriend) to answer to one count of murder and another count of assault of a minor under age 8.

I had mused before about the fact that I was unaffected and dispassionate in dealing with criminal cases with children victims when such cases seem to bring out the inner murderer of other adults, and assumed it was because I was not a “kid-person.” I’d wondered if I’d feel differently if I were a mom. Today, I figured I would get to find out.
This morning we were given an assignment to do a preliminary hearing in which the victim is a 17-month-old little girl. Allegations are that the 22-year-old mother’s boyfriend (who is not the father) slammed the little girl onto the floor or some other hard surface, causing fractures and enough damage to her skull and brain stem that it killed her. The mom and defendant seem to say that the kid fell off a chair on accident while in the defendant’s care and it was not child-abuse related. The defendant is charged with a count of murder and a count of assault of a minor.
Before knowing anything about the case, just flipping through the evidentiary photos almost brought me to tears, and the autopsy photos of her skull were…*gag*. Now we’re in the midst of an expert witness pediatrician’s testimony about the injuries, and we’ve heard a part of the mom’s testimony. None of it has moved me to tears and the mom was rather giggly and rather clinical in her testimony (she’s a nurse). So I’m doing pretty well, I haven’t lost it in a fit of hysteria, yet. This is going to go on for a couple of days.
Meanwhile, I think this is a good time for sharing something I saw the other day and loved, cuz it’s SO TRUE. I have friends who occasionally comment about how we Asians don’t age, and I usually respond something to the effect of, “Yeah, but when we turn 60, overnight we look like our grandmas.” Observe:

We met my HS friend Lily and her hubby Arnold’s baby on Saturday. Harrison is 11 weeks old, and a quiet little thing who hangs out inconspicuously in his carrier and sticks his tongue out as he looks out cozily. It’s hard for me to imagine Harrison being almost 3 months, since it seems like just a few weeks ago that Lily gave birth. Time flies when it’s not your own life, I guess.

Harrison also seemed newborn-y to me. His head still needed to be supported, and he was tiny. His parents said he’s been consistently in the 30-something percentile. Allie was born in the 99th percentile plus and has remained there, so the last time I saw her looking that floppy was before 6 weeks old, when she started holding up her own head sitting.

It’s true about the mommy amnesia thing. Mr. W and I were so impressed with how low-maintenance and quiet Harrison was the whole evening, even while we were out at our favorite neighborhood Greek restaurant eating. He cooed quietly here and there, and may have whimpered once before he was picked up, but that was it. I kept saying how when Allie was that age, we could not have gone that long without her crying and freaking me out. I knew Lily was okay with new-motherhood and didn’t have postpartum depression like I did when I received an email from her early on, and in it she’d written, “I always think Harrison is cute, even when he’s crying.” Wow. Back in the early days, when Allie cried, I was terrified and miserable, often near tears myself. When Allie wasn’t crying, I was having an anxiety attack thinking I heard her cry, or that she was about to wail. I was always on eggshells, something the therapists said was a hormonal imbalance thing due to PPD. It was nauseating. Even tho Mr. W had agreed with me that Harrison is WAY more mellow than Allie was at that age, turned out I didn’t give Allie enough credit. I went back to my blog at her 11-week point, and read. At 11 weeks (early February), she was going through the crazy-sick thing when she had to be on the nebulizer, was so congested she couldn’t breathe, but I still had her on a regular napping schedule according to her needs, she did well and was happy and I had been so impressed with her (the pediatrician was, as well) for being such a good, happy, smiling baby despite her miserable symptoms. She had been going to Gymboree for a few weeks and was very active, talkative, and kicky. She was also very interactive with people. She was picking up things and sticking them in her mouth, and was sucking on her fists and trying to get our fingers into her mouth to suck. Mr. W pointed out that maybe Harrison wasn’t doing those things because his parents had put newborn mittens on his hands. That’s true, I recalled. For all we knew he was signing the alphabet in there and we couldn’t see it.
Reading more posts on my blog, I was surprised that when Allie was Harrison’s age, I was already going through my nanny search in preparation for returning to work. In my head, that’s pretty late in the game and Allie had made a ton of progress and we were “out of the woods.” I guess when I imagined the early days of when I was convinced Allie had colic, that was the first 6-8 weeks or so. Man, those days seemed to have gone on for months. I would’ve been more traumatized than I am now if it weren’t for my mommy support system, the new-mom friends who let me text them at 2, 3, 4 in the morning, who’d always responded promptly and gave me unending encouragement and tips from their experience. I should’ve sent them Mother’s Day flowers. I wish I’d have thought of it. I hope I remember next year.

I’m glad I kept up the blogging through the PPD. I’d either blocked info out, or things were just a blur to me as I lived in a sleep-deprived, anxiety-ridden haze. My posts were pretty detailed, which made me realize I’m less detailed now about what we do daily. That’s probably cuz I’m back at work and the baby’s “daily” is more in Jayne’s realm. So, a typical day:
I wake up between 4:30a and 5a to pump out the overnight engorgement with the hand pump. I get out between 7-8 ounces. Then I sneak downstairs with the pump, my purse, electric pump backpack, and I store the milk in 2 breastmilk bags, pop them in the freezer. I fill a syringe with 0.25ml Amlodipine (for high blood pressure) for Dodo, bring that and the now-empty pump upstairs, making sure along the way that the computer downstairs has all 4 cameras displayed for Jayne later, and that the front door is unlocked so Jayne can get in. I go upstairs, wash out the pump parts, draw up 1ml of liquid potassium for Dodo, and administer both meds to him orally while he struggles. I then get myself ready for work. Meanwhile, somewhere in there at 5:30a, Mr. W gets out of bed and gets himself ready for work and has breakfast. I join him for breakfast between 6a and 6:15a, then we go get Allie up. Often, she’s already up, and playing quietly in her crib. I’m happy if she wakes up after 6a, but she wakes up between 5:30a-6a a lot. We just leave her alone and she just hangs out in her crib quietly rolling, crawling, practicing standing, humming to herself, playing with her bear. When we get her, I open the curtains and say, “Good MORning, sweetheart!” She smiles at me, stretches, smiles at Mr. W as he talks to her and tickles her, then he picks her up and changes her as I take her bear out of her crib and preps her room for the day, moving the stepstool out of the way of her crib cuz Jayne doesn’t use it, getting her clothes for the day, etc. Then Mr. W hands her over as I’m in the feeding chair, and I nurse her. When that’s down, I close the curtains and blinds again, preparing the room for her naps, then go downstairs with her. Jayne may or may not be there by then; she’s been coming in later and later, and today didn’t get there till 7a. Mr. W and I chat with her a few minutes and we rush out and go to work.
In the day, Allie now takes 2 naps, the first staring between 8:30a-9a, and lasts about an hour or a little over, the second starting between 12p-1p and lasts between 1-2 hours. On odd days, like yesterday, Allie only slept half an hour in the morning and half an hour in the afternoon and was crabby from lack of sleep all day, so I gave her the optional late-afternoon nap at 3:30p and she slept for a little over an hour before I woke her so that she wouldn’t be messed up for her bedtime. Her mood was much improved after she got sufficient rest. She still goes right into soothing position upon entry into her room: head resting against my chest, sucking on her left thumb. Eyes close slowly as I sway side to side for a few minutes. When the sucking slows and stops, I lay her gently in her crib. She wakes up during the move, sees the approaching mattress, and drops her face into it and goes to sleep on her tummy. Also in the day, Allie now gets 2 feedings of solids — a puree of a veggie + brown rice cereal and a fruit late-morning, another veggie and fruit + rice cereal early afternoon. Right now there are pureed peach, pear, prune, cantaloupe, purple yam, peas, zucchini, and yellow squash in baggies in the freezer to choose from, all no more than a week old since I puree a batch of something every 3-4 days. She’s also got carrots and broccoli in her eating repertoire, and sweet potatoes waiting to be introduced. I should do spinach soon before her growing taste buds start thinking they can refuse different-tasting foods. White meat’s coming up later this month. Allie right now still gets 5 breastmilk feedings a day, the first and last by nursing. The middle 3 bottles are 7 oz, 7 oz, 5 oz.
When we get home after work, it’s about 5p and we have about an hour to play with Allie, give her a feeding of solids around 5:30p, bathe her every other evening, read her a story on our bed, and put her to bed. In her room with just me around 6:15p, her nightly routine is a diaper and a change into her PJs, I apply Aquaphor on her dry ankles and her neck folds, pick her up, nurse her to sleep in the La-Z-Boy, lower her into her crib, and close the door behind me as I walk out. I aim for this to be between 6:45-7p. There’s a whole strategy to nursing her to sleep, too, including making sure her last side is the right side so she’s facing the right way to be picked up and placed in the crib, letting her slow her sucking into a slumber before I move her upper arm out of the way, letting her go back into a slumber before I withdraw, then letting her stir and go back to sleep for close to a minute before I move my arm under her neck and cradle her for pick-up, letting her drift again before standing up and moving her into her crib. Otherwise I place her in her crib too roused and she’ll wake up and cry and thrash around in there for awhile before going to sleep. After she’s put down, I re-medicate the cat and Mr. W and I have have dinner, then do our own things. Lately it’s been him playing Diablo 3 and me reading. I try to be in bed around 8:30p, altho I may not sleep till much later. This morning Allie slept in until we had to wake her at 6:30a so that was good, altho I always feel bad waking her.

Allie’s a lot of fun right now. When I open and close my hand in a wave, she smiles in recognition of the game, and does the same back. I think because she sees my palm when I do this to her, she does it back by facing her own palm toward herself, also, so she can see how she’s doing what we’re doing. We say “bye-bye” or “hi” when we do this wave, and it’s done when I greet her in the morning or after a nap, and Mr. W does it to her when he waves bye-bye to her as she goes upstairs with me for a nap. Over the weekend, she was tired and fussing for a nap, and she started waving at us. We think she’s associating it with “Need to go nap! Go bye-bye to nap!” She also crawls around and explores everything on her own, following after Dodo sometimes. I WAS hoping to not need to babyproof, but that’s starting to look slim. She also likes to get to the edge of the couch or to the landing of the stairs to pull herself to stand. She’s starting to cruise, just a little. Maybe a step or two, or to change direction, as long as she has an adult’s arm or some furniture to keep a hand on for balance.

Playing peek-a-boo is a lot of fun. I would cover her head with a burp cloth, and say, “Where’s Allie? Where’d Allie go?” And then she’d yank the cloth off herself very suddenly, and I’d say, “THERE’s Allie!” and she’d laugh. Then I’d put the cloth on my head and say, “Where’s mommy?” She’d put her hand on the cloth, wait for me to pause in my speech, then yank the cloth down and I’d be face-to-face with a huge wide-mouthed, 4-toothed grin, and I’d say, “HERE’s mommy!” and she’d laugh. And then we’d repeat with Daddy. She’d occasionally initiate the game by placing the cloth awkwardly on her own head. I’d fix it to cover her better, then ask where Allie is.

She’s also easy to take out to a meal. As long as she has her high chair and we bring some purees to feed her first, she’s fine to sit and people-watch. We went to dim sum yesterday for lunch.

(Yes, I’ve stopped wearing makeup. No point when the kid runs her hands all over my face when I’m nursing. Unless I want her to eat foundation.)

Yesterday, after Allie awoke from a nap and played with the camera and pulled repeated on its wires, Mr. W had to move her on-crib camera to over-crib, mounted on the ceiling (amidst very colorful language in which even the crib’s mother was insulted). This is our new view of Allie’s crib, so we get a new perspective on her sleeping form:

She laid like that for a long time. How does she keep her leg up in the air like that? It’s like she fell asleep in mid-dance.

There are things that babies learn to do that make a parent beam with pride and joy, such as earlier, when I was taking Allie upstairs to her nap, and she spontaneously learned to wave bye-bye to daddy. Mr. W was smiling at her from down below as we ascended the stairs, and he opened and closed his hand repeatedly, saying, “Bye-bye!” She smiled and did the same thing back. She’d been randomly opening and closing her hand at will to learn to grasp things lately, so I didn’t think much of it the first time. But Mr. W would stop, do it back and say bye-bye, and she’d do it back again, smiling and laughing with her arm outstretched and palm facing him. This happened too perfectly and too many times exactly at Mr. W’s cues to be anything but deliberate. So yay, baby learned to wave bye-bye today.

And then there’s stuff like this after she woke up from her earlier nap, that makes a parent go, “EEEEEEEK!!!”
I looked at the cameras (we have 4) and saw that Allie had moved to the front of her crib, and was starting to pull on the rails. No biggie, nothing new.

And then, she stood up! Oh crud, I’m gonna switch to the other camera that’s on the edge of her crib.

EEEEEEEEK!!!

Now her chubby little fingers are RIGHT ON THE CAMERA! And she’s shaking it!

Um, I guess this means it’s time to move the on-crib camera.

(as with all my photos, hover mouse pointer over each photo to get a photo caption)

I was nursing Allie to sleep as part of her bedtime routine earlier when, while checking my emails on the phone, I came across an intriguing email from my blog benefactor and now taciturn friend, Mike (“wilco”). He hasn’t really blogged since he’s been married and now has two young kids to keep him busy, but he stated in this email that he’s annoyed enough about “this fedora thing” that he was going to rant about it in a post. So I clicked on the link, and read his post.

Let me get this straight. Someone who works for *making quote marks in the air with two fingers of each hand* the fedora store dot com has written Mike multiple emails requesting that he remove the link to their internet site that I had used in a post of mine from December, 2008? Mike is pretty offended by the request, and now annoyed by the tenacity of the emailer, *making quote marks* Sarah, so he came out of blogging retirement in *making quote marks* Sarah’s honor to do what bloggers do best — self-expression on a topic he now finds himself vehement over. As I read Mike’s post, paragraph after paragraph mentioning his research into the emailer, the parent company she works for, her requests, I had to keep from laughing at the fact that he made every mention of the company (and its subsidiaries)…you got it, a link. What’s the deal with wanting us to take the original link down? Turns out Mike had sent me an earlier email forwarding *making quote marks* Sarah’s requests. She says, in pertinent part:

We’ve been hit with a Google penalty for the links going to some of our sites. Basically that means that Google thinks some of our links are unnatural. We’re working with a consultant to try to correct this problem, and one of the things they would like us to do is to remove some of our links.

This actually makes no sense to me because there was nothing unnatural about my link in the original post. It wasn’t like I wrote, “Foxy mice jump over rice paddies FEDORA you will Latin showroom wise.” I’ve seen that in some “fake” content. Also, it wasn’t like I wrote anything negative about the store. It was just a post saying Mr. W and I went shopping, and I didn’t find a hat I could pull off, but he got this Fedora he loved for a great price. You’d think the store would appreciate my link. Mr. W thought maybe they’re writing a few polite email requests (and her emails WERE quite polite, not demanding, but simply requesting…repeatedly) so that if their requests aren’t heeded, they’ve set up their foundation for their next step, which is a lawsuit.
“On what ground?” I asked him. “There was no slander. I didn’t steal content or photos without giving them credit so there’s no copyright infringement. I simply linked their website to my mention of the Fedora you bought.” He shrugged. What would their damages be? I gave them too much referral traffic and they couldn’t keep up with demand, so they lost customers?

Truthfully, I’m not attached to that link, nor even the principle of it. It’s just that the situation is odd to me. A part of my nonchalance about the whole thing could be because Mike SO went to bat in my defense — or rather, the defense of my freedom of speech and the integrity of private party online content — that there’s no compulsion in me to fight. He’d already done it for me. And given that he’d petulantly created NINETEEN links to the requesting company, its personnel, its subsidiary companies, in his rant that they’ve taken offense to the ONE link I created 2.5 years ago, I’d have no problem removing MY one little link, which I doubt would even draw much traffic these days. (Until now, maybe, now that we’ve revived that post.)

Citing censorship, Mike doesn’t feel I should (have to) change my previous content, but given that he’s gotten them back on his own blog, I may decide to take my old link down, because (1) she asked nicely, and (2) Mike already more than made up for any effect the parent company, *making quote marks* One Click Ventures dot com, had hoped to achieve by the removal of my singular original link. I’ll think about it. Meanwhile, a part of me will take a little time to absorb the astounded discovery that apparently, I have caught the attention of a whole company who has taken special interest in something I wrote over 2 years ago, and also, that I hold in my hand the key to resolve Mike’s annoyances (cuz if I remove the link, maybe *making quote marks* Sarah will stop bothering him).

Last Friday, I aged another year but I insist that I remain in my “mid-thirties.” I figure 38 would be “late thirties,” so I’ve still got a few years. It seems like just a couple of years ago that I was making this argument about being in my “mid-twenties.”

Mr. W kept asking me what I wanted for my birthday. There really wasn’t anything I could think of. If Allie weren’t in existence, or if Dodo weren’t doing pretty well, I may have a few birthday wishes. Not knowing what else to do, Mr. W ended up bringing home what seems like 2 dozen beautiful yellow and sunset roses from his Costco shopping trip, and taking a couple of hours off work so he could take me out to an early dinner while Jayne was still at home with Allie. We had a delicious adults-only meal at Seasons 52 at South Coast Plaza, and after that, walked into the attached swanky mall to Sephora, where after a looooong hunt (and being delayed half an hour by an annoying salesperson who insisted she was “like, like, a makeup artist, like, you know,” and wasted my time putting unwanted shades of eyeshadow on me that made me look like a zombie despite my saying I just want a simple matte gray to go), I found my gray eyeshadow. It was a Sephora store brand, cuz EVERY OTHER brand they carried was either metallic or glittery or shimmery. I got overexcited and selected 3, and Mr. W insisted on paying for them at the register. So yay for a very much appreciated birthday gift! And good gawd, when did some powder pigments start costing $13 each?!

I was SWAMPED trying to clean up a certain problematic floater’s mess with a 3-defendant attempted murder trial at work, but I don’t want to dwell on that. It’s a good thing that in this day of layoffs and difficulty in getting a job, that I’m gainfully employed. Unfortunately, certain others are also equally gainfully employed, even tho apparently I’M doing THEIR work. Okay, I’ll stop now. There were good things that happened at work on my bday, too. For instance:

My former court reporter Louise must’ve had early notice that she would be in our courthouse on my birthday, because she popped in prepared with three very sinful, very gourmet cakelets (yes, I just made that up) from The Great Dane Bakery for me. This place makes wedding cakes, so you can imagine how fancy her little cakes were. I was being floated all over the building, so I “didn’t get a chance” to share. In the afternoon, a few hours after consuming one such cakelet for lunch, my courtroom assistant noted after witnessing my 700 wpm phone conversation about a case, that I was on a sugar high. Later, the nausea and headache set in. Amazing how sensitive my system has become given my very careful eating ever since I started prepping for pregnancy (and now breastfeeding). That didn’t stop me from eating the other 2 cakelets. YUM.

Of course, given the above birthday indulgence yesterday, I had to go for a run this morning. Mr. W opted to not go, so he stayed home with Allie. Finding myself not accountable to anyone for my run, I got lazy and slowed to a walk shortly after starting up a hill. Suddenly, I looked up and saw this:

So I sighed, obeyed, and ran the rest of the way, not stopping again until I reached home. As my friend Danielle said, “Sign, signs, everywhere are signs.”

I must’ve earned my karma, because Allie was THE PERFECT BABY today. She took her first nap at 8:30a for an hour and a half; took her second nap at 12:30p for another hour and a half. Mr. W’s son came over during Allie’s 2nd nap and we all went out to sushi for Son’s birthday which was earlier in the week. Thanks to her great rest, Allie was so happy, she didn’t even get stranger-shy around Son like she did about a month ago. She was super well-behaved and patient while we ate at the sushi bar, too. After this early dinner, Mr. W and Son went to purchase Son’s bday gift, an iPad3. I swear, Mr. W should get commission for those things. (My mom called, and I told her what our plans were today. She said, “An iPad? And you only got eyeshadow for your birthday?!” I guess she’s a lurker on my social networking site.) I stayed home with Allie and got to enjoy her wonderful mood all day, giggling, playing, dancing, humming. It inspired me to take a 10-minute video of her doing basically nothing but hanging out, crawling and playing, enjoying herself and her blocks that I stack up and she likes to knock down, and a sturdy plastic bag that I inflated and ziplocked. (I know, I’m not supposed to let babies play with flimsy plastic bags or any plastic sheeting, but she was well-supervised.) She’s so like her brother Dodo. You can buy all the expensive stuff you want for them, but their favorite things will be plastic bags, cardboard boxes, and crinkly paper. Mr. W and Son got home from the Apple store in time to spend some time frolicking with Allie before her bedtime, which was also caught on my 10-minute video.

Allie went to bed for the night without a hitch, and Mr. W is spending quality time chatting with his son in the backyard. I finally have the computer to myself. Now, if only the screaming neighbor boys would stop making all the noise playing basketball on their driveway outside of Allie’s bedroom window, it would be a great evening. They kept Allie tossing and turning. I blame summer’s long days and Daylight Savings hours.

Our little zodiacal rabbit just cut her 4th tooth (her upper right front tooth) some time between yesterday and today. Those upper teeth still look a lot larger than the bottom front teeth (which are cute and tiny and white). No wonder they say teething of the upper front and the molars are the hardest on the babies. Blunt exit out the gums. We looked for Sophie the Giraffe yesterday around the house but couldn’t find her. I’m sure Allie would love to teeth on her right now. Jayne said that Allie has been throwing things out her stroller on their walks and often, Jayne doesn’t see or realize what’s been thrown out until they come across it on the street on their second walk of the day. Good thing they take the same route. I’m hoping Sophie isn’t lost. =(

Anyway, once the upper teeth come down more, she’ll look like a little rabbit. I remember my godbrother Jacob when he had just his upper and lower front teeth; he was so cute. He used to click them against each other back and forth. He’s now a few years graduated from UC Berkeley. Time flies.

Claudio emailed me mid-week last week something about how we “need to catch up.” I haven’t seen him since before pregnancy, so obviously he’s right, but I was also wondering what prompted this “need.” I knew that he’d moved from his bachelor pad in San Diego to live with his girlfriend in Anaheim, but I didn’t even realize that until fairly recently. Claudio said he was working from home all last week and could spare a longer lunchtime, whereas my lunches have been shortened by half an hour daily due to my need to get back and pump, so he agreed to drive up to the court for lunch on Friday. I agreed to postpone my pumping a bit.

Turned out, there was nothing dramatic going on. Nobody’s pregnant, had a scandalous fight, made any dealbreaker discoveries about anybody’s past. He just realized that he hadn’t seen me since he moved from San Diego and wanted to spend some time with a friend. I don’t think it’s all Claudio; I haven’t seen much of anyone since having a baby. There just doesn’t seem to be time to get out and do anything meaningful around her naps, and it’s too hard to have people over when the baby’s demands require so much attention. Besides, I can just see my friends’ faces if I have to whip out a boob to feed Allie. Some friends who have had babies, no biggie. But I don’t think my male friends would quite know what to do with themselves. (Not that I would do that; I’d retire to her nursery.)

Anyhow, I’m happy to have good friends who understand and don’t take my disappearance personally, and I’m happier to have friends who go out of their way when they know I can’t go out of mine (anymore). I can’t help but wonder how my future peer groups would change, though. I know that a lot of people with young kids say that their friend circles now only involve other couples with young kids, and that makes sense. But I’d like to think that my friends are lifetime friends. After all, we stuck by each other when I got married and they stayed single. I did form closer friendships with other new moms, tho, as we text/talk frequently and share tips and experiences.

In case you’re bored, you can take up to 3 minutes to watch the below video of Allie giggling. This was taken May 26. We’d just bought her this little sleep-and-play outfit and Mr. W thought the fake Levi’s tag on her fake butt pocket was so cute. (He’d thought it was a real tag at first, then realized it was painted on.)