More Firsts

Hmm. Well, the sleeping through the night was short-lived. I will not tell the whole story, but suffice to say I am blaming others, but hold some hope still that it could happen again one of these days. Perhaps the teething is lingering though? The last several nights, sleep has been very disturbed and as a result, Scott and I are becoming increasingly disturbed. Not as in 'bothered' but as in 'should be committed'. This too shall pass, right?

Despite the poor sleep, our girl remains a content and easy-going gal during the day. The last few days, Scott & I have been able spend non-nap hours playing all manner of fun games. Highlights include pass with the big red ball, being gobbled up by Daddy, shoulder rides and I Wish I Could Crawl which usually ends with whining. Talia also thinks a yawning face is hilarious but is quite upset by Daddy's low honking sound when she grabs his nose. Happily, it only took Scott half-a-dozen attempts to confirm that it really truly does upset her before he quit doing it. Aaahh, parenting together.

Oh, and she rolled over back to tummy yesterday! Big milestone, although completely accidental, and probably not to be repeated for a while. Still, it was fun to see.

All these moments are so wonderful though. They just make my heart glad. They embody goodness in the truest sense. Things are good in the Johnson Home these days, teething and night-waking notwithstanding. Sometimes when I am negotiating sleep with her, I forget for a moment how sweet it is. And that's probably okay. Because I just love that I am noticing how sweet it is the rest of the time. Really, most of the day, I just love this. Love this stage of our lives together. What a wonderful surprise that is. What good blessing.

But enough of the gush, now for the mush. With all this night-waking I decided we were eating solid foods this morning. Ha! She is interested for sure. In the spoon. Brown rice, not so much. Although the photos don't show this so much, she is a very clear non-verbal communicator so there was no misunderstanding her opinion on the experiment. Perhaps we'll try again next week? In the meantime, I'm pouring formula down her throat after every feeding. She will sleep again. Unless it's the damned teeth. Then I'm screwed.

What Good News Looks Like

I'm in a mood, have been for a day or so now, milestones be damned. Who can explain these things? I would prefer not to be, would prefer to be happy or at least not ... this. But whatever. It's that kind of day.

One thing that encouraged me though, was seeing Jolie taking her compost out. I wasn't so much encouraged by her green-ness, or her industriousness. Just by knowing she was there, living her life with her family - that was good news.

Here is the view from my back stairs:


Hmm. I hope Jolie and Andy don't see this photo - they might be worried. But it doesn't really look this grim in real life. To me, it always looks inviting and warm and fun and familiar and a bunch of other good things. I probably look over there five or 6 times a day in winter and 3 or 4 times that often the rest of the year. Just to see if they're there. Just to remember that if I need tomatoes, or a joke, or someone to check my pregnancy test, they're right there.

So today, in the midst of my mood, it was good news to know that if it gets bad, if it gets to the point where I can't step one foot further, I just have to lean out the back door and wail and probably someone over there will notice. Isn't that good news? I think so.

I wish good news made a bigger difference though.

Big Week in Taliaville

Oh, the milestones - they just keep rolling by.

It all started Monday with little white nubs on the lower gum. Hard core gnawing on anything that she could get in her mouth (thank you Uncle Bri for the well-timed teething toy!). Tuesday, I could feel little a little razor blade sharpness and that night & Wednesday night, the girl was up every couple of hours, not wanting to eat, but just kind of sleep-crying. Two bottom teeth. We did it!

Wednesday morning, my girl started saying "Mum". Well, more like "mammammammama" but every once in a while she slips in a "Mummmm" too. It's quite lovely and funny and now we can say her first word was Mum. Although maybe word should be in quotation marks. First "word". Yeah, that's closer.

And finally, 2 nights of sleeping through without a middle of the night meal, starting Thursday night.

It was indeed a big week. She is growing up our girl, and it is so nice.

Grandma bought a new toy for Talia this weekend. This fancy-dancy exersaucer was the happiest place on earth on Sunday night. She gets to stand up and reach things and most importantly, get them to her mouth. Home is a sad, sad place to be all of a sudden.

Tonight, Grandma and Poppa came to practice putting Talia to bed. All fared well, and Talia is snoozing away happily. As was Poppa when I got home. At 8.

For the 2 hours, I took myself and a book out for sushi and a glass of white wine. It was probably lovely. Sadly, I was a bit distracted by being a mother who mostly wants her daughter to be fine with whichever circumstance she finds herself in, but also mostly wanting her to prefer that circumstance to be me. I phoned Scott at 7:30 so that I wouldn't phone mum. He humoured me, but pointed out that he has been leaving her with me for months now and is a bit used to the bitter-sweetness of that.

Which of course has me thinking. Thinking about how being a mother has opened a whole new world to me, and a much more different world than being a wife ever was. Thinking that the same is probably true for Scott being a father, but the world is not set up for him to think on that at all.

The book I'm reading (Between Interuptions) was given to me by Heidi and is a collection of women's writing about motherhood. This first section I'm in is about the difficulty of merging motherhood with previous identities and specifically work identities. Oddly, I found I couldn't relate much, perhaps because my "work" identity had been a bit of a joke for the last 3 years. But then a writer wrote about being her father, not being a mother to her children and about how lonely that was and oh my, I was sad. Sad because of what it means it must be like for so many fathers.

Ugh, this is boring. What I want to say about all this is that I am intensely grateful for the privilege of staying home with Talia. I am thankful to every Canadian tax payer that funds my employment insurance. I am thankful for the bureaucrats who wrote a billion reports to convince someone, somewhere that a full year with a parent at home was way better for children than just 6 months. I am thankful to Make-A-Wish for obeying the law and for being a mom-friendly workplace. But mostly I am thankful to Scott who has giving up days at home with his daughter to work extra days so that we can afford for me to make up words to half-remembered rhymes and blow raspberries in the middle of diaper changes and spend 12 minutes choosing an outfit. To check the mail in.

Motherhood is such a privilege, in every way, and I am so, so thankful.

She Needs Me! and other lies that are true

So when Katie saw this photo, she says the first thing she thought was "Gammi?" Is it the white "hair"? the fondness for baths? the fingers in the mouth? or maybe just a lovely, lovely face? I don't know but I sure liked looking for Gammi in my sweet daughter and finding a hint or two. Take that Johnson family! We got some Gourlay going on...

Yesterday, I spent the day at Karen's making antipasto. Or to be more accurate, I spent the day with Karen while she made antipasto. I did do some of the shopping and chopping and filled about 7 jars. I also tried to take a few jars out of the big pot of boiling canning water but managed to look dangerous enough to inspire Karen to take over. Meanwhile, Talia and I hung out and enjoyed the warmth and friendliness of Karen's house. It's nice to be in a spot where you're just fine the way you are. Very Grandma and Poppa-ish actually, now that I think of it. Goodness. What a grandparent retrospective this is turning into... I'll find a Pumpa connection before we're done, I swear.

Now, that preamble is getting us to my day's thinking. On the way home, sweet T. fell asleep in her little carseat. So nice. Until she woke up, somewhere around Boundary and 29th. Something about waking up in the carseat is very upsetting to Talia and she just cries and cries. I reach back and give her my hand (awkward in a stick-shift) and I tell her I'm right there, and still she cries and cries. Finally we get home, and as soon as she sees me coming around the car, she stops. Her sobbing slows and as I pull her out of her carseat and bring her to my shoulder, she tucks her head against my neck and does that ragged, snuffling, post-cry breathing.

It is SO nice.

This was really the first time where I thought, "I think it's me she needed." Probably she hasn't quite figured out that MY voice and MY fingers do not mean that *I* am there. So she wakes up in her seat and makes the sweet waking up noises she always does, but instead of Scott or me showing up to play, she gets nothin'! Nothing but the 2004 Jetta upholstery and a carseat toy. For those 20 minutes, she is sure that this is it - she's been abandoned and will have to raise herself and she has not seen a nipple in HOURS.

And then suddenly there is Mummy. ME! She sees ME and all is not lost after all.

So of course, I have to think on this, even while I am loving it. I see how it is addictive, this feeling. How we are made to be needed this way. It feels as though my entire body has been created to pull a warm, cuddly, sobbing body out of carseat and feel it relax against my shoulder. And I want to do it again. I want to be the answer, the solution.




As you can see in this photo, Talia is getting stronger all the time - she is holding herself up there, hanging off the bouncy chair (and breaking every safety guideline for it, I'm sure) all on her own strength. Probably, she will be able to sit on her own in the next months, and stand on her own not too long after that. And chances are, she will figure out that she is okay on her own in the carseat. She'll start being okay on her own with friends, and then at school and sooner or later at work and God forbid, in New Jersey.

And here she has me hooked on her being most okay with ME. I didn't think I would fall for it, but alas I have. Not long until I'm saying "She just hates daycare" while the teachers smirk knowing that she just does the crying for my sake. Maybe it's why grandparents love these little grandbabies so much - they get a hint of that again. It's been so many years since their own babies needed them for a cuddle and they've missed it. I do remember sitting on Pumpa's lap when I was small - while I was savouring the smell of rye and milk, I bet he was soaking up that "she needs ME" feeling. Nice to imagine, I tell you.


Lucky me.

About Talia

Poor girl. All I write about is me, me, me. She'll grow up with no notes about her, aside from how her "herness" impacted my "meness". Good grief. Some kids have education funds - T is going to have a counselling fund!

So a few notes about Talia Grace at 3 and a half months.

Talia's first smile was at 3 and a half weeks, a big wide gummy one and she has been smiling lots ever since. Her best smiles are for whoever gets her out of bed in the morning. She also has lots of smiles for Mummy and Daddy and Grandma. Well, to be honest, she'll smile for just about anybody. A bit indiscriminate with her cheer actually. It's sure nice.

She cries mostly when she doesn't get her way and on her way to sleep. She has several distinct cries including, "I'm Over Here", "Are You Kidding Me? I'm Still Waiting", "Why Can't I Have That One?", "I'm SOooo Tired", "You're Such an Idiot" and "Please Watch My Head". Happily, her noise-making has expanded beyond the crying variety, and she talks away, often. She likes to sing along when sung too, and favourite songs are currently "If I Had a Boat" (the Jimmy Buffett version) and "Amazing Grace" at bedtime.

She is very confident on her tummy and started rolling from her tummy to her back about 2 weeks ago. She plays long and often in her bouncy chair and will happily spend time in her Bumbo chair, although it seems to wear her out a bit more quickly. Not long though until she is complete master of her neck and then game on, as they say. Game on.

She sleeps from about 7:30 until 8 the next morning, waking once or twice in that time to eat. She is still having 3 and a half naps at 3 and a half months - I hope that changes soon, but for now she is mostly well-rested and that is probably part of why she's so darned happy. The good news is I trained her to fall asleep in her crib, on her own. The bad news is, she is reluctant to fall asleep anywhere else. Next week we'll try a couple of naps at Grandma's in her bassinet to remind her there are other sleep options in the world.

Talia has been a delight from day 1. Any difficulties we've had with her have had more to do with our own issues and expectations - she has put up with a lot of craziness already in her short life (Note to Remember for Next Time: you really can't spoil a newborn and eating is more important than a schedule at the beginning). We are so thankful for her and keep looking at each other, wondering how we managed to get the best one. Too wonderful, she is.

Brooke Strikes Again

Okay, well our daughter really is the cutest baby on the plantet. We've got documented proof now too. You'll remember Brooke of belly shots fame? She came by this afternoon and took a swack of pics of our sweet girl and yet again captured the heart of a moment. Or two. So wonderful, so beautiful...

Father Daughter Fondness

I mentioned below that I am Talia's favourite boobs, but it is becoming apparent as time goes on that her real favourite is her Dad. And certainly, she is his favourite. She always has big smiles for him and continues to love bath time which is a Dad Exclusive.

Watching a man become a father is an amazing experience, and certainly tied to my longing for parenthood. As much as I wanted to be a mom, I really wanted Scott to get to be a Daddy because I just knew it would bring out the best in him. And you may recall that he was already pretty good to begin with.

Sure enough, Talia accesses a part of Scott that is new and wonderful for both of us; wonderful for him I think because it must be so nice to discover your own tenderness and capacity for this protective love, and nice for me to be nearby and watch it grow and deepen and even get some of the overflow.

Scott's love for Talia surprises him sometimes, catches him off-guard. And her delight in him as she gets more aware and connecting only grows the affair between them.

I will confess that I am a bit jealous. Jealous of her love for him and his love for her. I wonder about feeling left out when we're all older, and about being second in her heart. I wonder about him one day choosing her ahead of me. Lots of wondering, but all mixed with joy and gladness that both my favourite daughter and my favourite man are being so well-loved. It's truly my best hope for both of them.

Three Months In

That's Talia asleep in her playpen aboard Cheap Therapy for her second voyage of the year. We spent 6 days out, with a couple of nights each in Centre Bay, Pender Harbour and the Pearl Islets off Hardy Island. It was lovely to be away and she is proving to be a very able sailor.



At three months old, Talia is still wee but moving along in every other way. She is very engaged and engaging, checking things and people out. She can be quite chatty and has a bit of a love-affair going on with her dad. I remain her favourite set of boobs, and every once in a while she is glad to see me. Until her dad shows up. There are worse problems I think.

Now that she seems to be gaining weight regularly, we can slowly move our focus to sleeping. She sleeps well-ish at night, although still wakes 2 or 3 times between 7 & 7 to eat. I guess that will keep up for a few more pounds and I generally don't mind, except for the times when I mind a LOT. Naps are another story and she remains a reluctant napper. If she does finally fall asleep, it is usually short-lived. However, she is happy when she's awake (unless she is awake in her crib - not so happy then!) so we'll just keep at it and hope she figures it out soon. I find it taxing and discouraging and it makes me want to quit. However, as I mentioned before, quitting isn't an option so I don't get to, and just wait another 3 hours for the drama we call naptime.

As is wont to happen, all this discouragement prompts deep thoughts. Okay, well, deep-ish thoughts. And so my current thinking is about what God is doing in building longings in us. Because we really wanted to be parents. Well, I should only type for me. *I* wanted to be a mother. I wanted to be pregnant, and I wanted to have a baby, but bigger than that, I wanted to be a real mom, more than the half-assed, pseudo-parent I was with Shiaheem.

As the wait for pregnancy went on and on, the longing grew deeper and deeper which is of course no surprise. Now, I'm a realistic person so there was a realization that the fulfillment of this longing wasn't going to be my happiness. But there was a belief I guess that life would somehow be better than it had been.

This is not better.

It is good. Often great. But it is hard. And full of new failures and disappointments. It's not better, although, not worse. Just ... different. In the midst of all the new that different brings, suddenly the same old disappointment of not being pregnant doesn't seem as disappointing and terrible as it did at the time. At least I knew how to do that part.

And this is the crux of it: I hate not knowing how to do this. I hate sitting here listening to her wail instead of drift off to sleep not knowing what I should be doing instead. I hate that there is no recipe that works everytime. Or that just plain works. And by works I mean, makes her fall asleep quickly without crying when I put her in her crib.

So here I am at home with my "gift from God" that is hard work and makes me feel bad a lot. And this is without getting into the world of "impact of children on marriage."

Which leaves me thankful oddly enough. Thankful that early on in this process of wanting family, God taught us both that we were meant to be longing for God's will, God's love, God's way with our lives. We kept on longing for a baby, but asked God all the time to change our hearts and minds to wanting something else if something else was what was going to be provided. In the end, Talia was provided and she is in every way, the fulfillment of that longing.

I think that wisdom means that knowing that the fulfillment of a longing is not meant for our pleasure though. There can be pleasure in it, but it's purpose is not our pleasure. The purpose is what our entire purpose is: to know and be known by the Creator, to glorify Him forever.

This would be so much harder I think, if I didn't know this. What if I didn't know, at least sometimes, that Talia isn't here to make me happy? That our prayers weren't answered so that we would be blissful? That in fact she is here so that we will know God, know that we are known by God and glorify Him forever?

I have to say, this isn't a comfort when she won't do what I want. When I'm up for the third time in the night. When she is crying and won't do what I think she should. Like stop. But in quiet moments, like when we were anchored in our favourite anchorage and she was sleeping forward while the sun set off the starboard side, it is possible to be thankful that God is in the midst of this and that our family is on purpose and that the hard parts are not indications of a terrible, terrible mistake, but just of our need for help.

Need help? No wonder I hate this.

Good thing she's cute.

The Parent Whisperer

One thing I have learned is that in the world of new parents, Baby Sleep is a competitive sport. We met a couple at the coffee shop yesterday morning with a baby born the day after Talia and in answer to the question, "how's it going", they answered with how long young Matthew sleeps (9 and a half hours - we think they use opiates in the bottle).

Young Talia's first sleep in her new crib. Talia's parents enjoy a mix of 2 minute timed cries and
shushing and patting comfort in between while they wait for her to fall asleep.

This is why people write books on how to get babies to sleep. Because there are millions of parents out there desperate to find the answer and willing to spend any amount of money to find it. The sad, unfortunate truth though, is that there is not a book's worth of content for the answer. The answer is actually just one word: wait. These books are actually just a long list of things to do while you wait. You can spend your waiting sleeping with your child, ignoring your wailing child, shushing and patting your child. You can bounce and rock, you sling and swing. You can feed 'em or change 'em. You can attach, ferberize or whisper. But know this - all you are doing is waiting. Waiting for them to figure it out, or move out. Whatever comes first.

You may recall an earlier post where I admitted that I only read baby books until I found one that agreed with me. One that described how I most wanted to wait. I truly believe that all parents that do the same although some are better than others at convincing others that they are in fact choosing a methodology for their child. Ha!

They are not. For example, I could go on and on about the importance of children sleeping in their own beds: it fosters independence, it decreases the risk that they will be crushed by a parent dead asleep and it uses the very cute crib that you've chosen. However, it might be more true to admit that Talia sleeps in her own bed in her own room because I value my own sleep very highly and she makes too many noises too often for me to sleep deeply if she was in my room, never mind my bed. Or, to use my book theory, I don't want to wait with her so nearby. I need some distance in my waiting.

So this afternoon, I'm shushing and patting my daughter into her nap (see The Baby Whisperer to explain this particular way to wait) and I realized truly and deeply that like all parenting books, in addition to not actually doing any thing other than giving me something to do while I wait, it is also meant to make parents like me feel better about what we're doing while we wait.

This particular book is for those of us who need to feel like we're doing something, like we're not completely abandoning our children, but who aren't willing to actually sleep with them either. The shushing may or may not soothe a crying baby, but I realized at minute 7 that it was really soothing me. The patting may or may not ease young Talia into sleep, but it absolutely keeps my hands from covering her mouth to quiet her down. That Tracey Hogg woman made a fortune giving parents like me something to do until our children are old enough to do things like fall asleep on their own, and more importantly helps us feel righteous about doing it. Amazing.

So this will be my book - The Parent Whisperer. It will help parents identify what their parenting priorities are (mine are MY sleep, MY eating and her making me look good in public) and then match them with the waiting activity that most closely matches their hopes. Of course, this will involve me finding out what those other options are - you'll remember that I've only read about the one that matches ME. But you watch, it's going to be a best seller.

Off to start my research. Right after I wake my daughter from the nap I spent an hour getting her to take. But holey moley, did I feel good about how I spent that hour.

Sai-ai-ai-ling, Takes me Aw-ay-ay

So this week we took our first family sailing trip up to the Elliott Bay outstation on Gambier Island. We left on Tuesday and all three of us returned Thursday afternoon - victory indeed. We had gorgeous weather: the three sunny days of July I think, with no motor issues or sails ripping apart. Again, victory everywhere.

First photo is of Scott taking us out, Talia slung in at the helm. Hopefully this time next year, she'll be able to run the tiller for us. Or at least reach it. The sling is awesome and we used it all the time as the photos will reveal. Unfortunately, she probably got a bit addicted to it and was a bit sad without it once we got home! Oh well, as problems go, it's one we can live with. Anyway, you can see that the Captain of Cheap Therapy is pretty comfy with his new first mate (Oh Lord, if that isn't the cheesiest line ever - ahahhaha! I need to send that in to the Lats and Ats photo section).



Here we are cruising the decks at the outstation. Do note how gloriously clean the boat is - it was beautiful. Okay, it might be hard to tell from this photo, but trust me, it looked really good.


Sleeping in the boat is intimate at the best of times. Adding a third body to the mix is kind of funny. We brought the bassinet along and it worked awesome for nights. However early morning, she got to cuddle up with us, making for a really nice start to the day. Especially when it is dad keeping her happy and quiet!


And here is a photo of sweet T bundled up in her sling. Think it was a bit bright for her? Or maybe she's getting tired of all the photos, poor thing.


Nap time on the way down broke almost all the rules of baby sleep. At least she's on her back, but probably all the blankets might be considered a bit of a hazard. Oh well, she lived and she napped which counts as a win in our books. We were taking a bit of a beating on the way down, and she just lay there, bouncing around quite happily in her v-berth coccoon.



Hopefully there will be many more voyages in our future. It was a good first run and we had a really great time. As always, three days on the boat feels like a week of holidays and we came back very relaxed and happy, thankful for the boat and for each other. Really, a victory.

As I Mean To Go On

As a responsible parent-to-be, I read up on life with newborns prior to Talia's arrival. As a fundamentally opinionated and lazy person, I stopped reading when I found an author who agreed with everything I already thought about life with newborns. The Baby Whisperer by Tracey Hogg is a good read with a lovely tone of voice about it that makes it feel possible to do have a happy, contented baby who eats and sleeps well and grows up to bring peace to the Middle East. And of course, she agrees with me. Kids like routines, parents matter, sleep is good and a child can learn to do it my way. Well, that last one might not be verbatim, but I think it's what she meant.

One of her standard lines is "Start as you mean to go on". I think she means that you do at the beginning the things you hope to be doing later, be consistent. There is some wisdom in that certainly, and it is probably good advice.

However, I somehow took that to mean "Start by doing it right from the beginning so that you never do it wrong and your child is always fine because you're always doing it right." This would be a less healthy interpretation. Unfortunately, I didn't realize that until yesterday. The first 6 weeks of sweet Talia's life have been an exercise in failure for me against that standard of doing it right from the beginning, every time.

And then yesterday it occurred to me that I might want to give some thought to "how I want to go on" and then evaluate our parenting from that point of view. What good news that was! Because were I well-rested and well-fed and sipping cold white wine with a friend outside in the yard, and she asked me how I meant to go on in parenting, I would say something like this:

"I want to be open-handed with my child and myself and my husband, not holding too tightly to any thing, person or idea. I want to be a learner and be adaptable. I want to be gracious with my children and my husband when they make mistakes so that they can be wholly themselves with me. I want to be wholly me with them and I hope they will have grace for my mistakes. I want to be faith-full and Jesus-y-ish and see God better through my family. I want to get better at it, and I want to enjoy it, enjoy them. I want to be thankful."

And that would be true. There are however, dark parts of my heart that would rather be perfect at parenting and I was living in those dark parts for a bit there. I will probably visit them every once and again. But my whole heart isn't that way. Thank goodness.

So right now, I am less committed to a perfect going-to-sleep situation. In the practical sense, how I mean to go on with sleeping is to figure out a way to help her sleep in whatever situation she's in. She won't always get to sleep in her own bed, and I won't always sing the same song, or any song for that matter. Sometimes it will be Scott putting her to sleep and sometimes it will be Grandma and sometimes God love her, she'll be on her own. And that may mean that sometimes, I have a daughter who doesn't sleep well but that's how I mean to go on. Imperfectly, making it up as I go and wishing that it was the way that worked best.

Oh well. I feel better at least.

Counting a Few Blessings

After the last post I find myself wanting a record of at least a few sweet things:

1. Waking Up Faces. I wish I had footage of this to post because a still photo won't capture the hilarity of my daughter waking up. Big stretches and arms all over the place. Arms akimbo in fact. I believe the word akimbo was invented for this exact motion. Eyes squeak open only enough to decide if the scenery is worth a full waking and the wrinkles in the forehead... oh my goodness. Laugh out loud funny she is.

2. Cuddling into the Neck. Little baby breaths against my neck even when it's a million and twelve degrees outside. Feeling the little hand resting on my shoulder. Looking at those blond eyelashes. Smelling that baby smell that I never really smelled until her. Mmm.

3. Baths with Daddy. My daughter loves water and loves her dad and bathtimes are about her favouritist thing being a wicked awesome combination of the two. A poop disaster yesterday landed her in the shower with Dad and she was beside herself with enjoyment. Loves spray on her belly and on her head and in the bath, loves swimming her little arms around and pushing herself around with her wee legs. Little tadpole gazing up in total love with her dad who gazes back.

Those are my top three for tonight. Off to see some of those waking faces.

A.

My Daughter is Cute. My Heart is Not.

One month, 6 days in. She's easy on the eyes, that's for sure. At least to me, Scott and my mother. And my dad, Brian and Anna. That's a nice thing.

One thing that is not so nice is a day (or several) where a person wants to just quit. When a person realizes that this was all a terrible misunderstanding, and that when I was begging the Lord to get pregnant what I meant was, "Let me have the feeling of getting my own way, but please don't change anything about my life." Of course, I didn't know that at the time. In fact, I guess I was really asking for my life to change. I just didn't know that I didn't really want that after all.

Silly me.

The system is set up so that there are no returns, no take-backs, no do-overs. I suppose this is wisdom, but I couldn't tell you why. At least not this week.

Now this might sound like whining. You might be thinking, "goodness, Talia must be a really difficult baby." Nope. She's not. She is healthy, she is alert and happy often. She cries often too, but has yet to be inconsolable. She eats well, and she is cute. Probably a dream child.

However, she is permanent. She is always here. She doesn't take 12 hours off. In fact, so far she has yet to take more than 4 hours off. And of those 4 hours, I spend 30 minutes wondering if she is going to fall asleep, and another 30 minutes wondering if she's going to wake up. Who thought up this system??

And me. I am always here too. Me and my head wondering what the magic code is to falling asleep for 2 hour naps. Me wanting to get an hour's worth of work done in the 10 minutes she plays happily on her own. Me realizing that I am a bit addicted to accomplishments and items crossed off the to do list. Me unwilling to believe that my life really has to be about someone else. Someone who is frikkin' useless. Albeit tremendously darling and cute.

Ugh. And someone who needs attention again. Hmm. If only she could put the sausages on the barbecue while I turn down the potatoes and change the laundry.

Huh. I thought this would be funnier. Maybe in a few years...??

A.

One Month Old

The Johnson Family on July 3, 2007. Young Talia is a month old and both mom and dad can smile. Talia is eating her hands, a favourite pastime of late. The hot weather is perhaps making her a bit cranky, but her cute moments make up for most of the crying parts. As I type, she is with her Dad instead of in her bed because she is prone to inconsolable crying when she discovers herself in bed. Well, completely consolable as long as she is removed from said bed, and we are totally falling for it. Today, we are falling for it. Some days, not so much. We're what's known in the parenting business as "inconsistent". I like to think of it as keeping her on her toes.

Soon, I'll post my rant about the massive gap in Baby Lit about the first 6 weeks and the truth about baby raising advice. Maybe sometime after the first 6 weeks are over and I'm a complete pro.