Overboard

We're in the process of purging clothes. It was either that or open an orphanage for girls who like pink. We could seriously house 11 more little girls and call the littlest one Madeline, and we'd have several outfits for each of them. It's out of control.

But enough now. We're going to Once Upon A Child with stuff Lyla's outgrown, some of it never worn, and some of it we know deep down she'll never wear. It's nothing you've gotten her; your taste is impeccable. It's those others who mean well but--let's leave it at that. And it's Julie and me.

It's not really me. Besides onesies with slogans that compliment Daddy, I stick to buying toys. But soon we'll have to purge those, too.

The problem is that clothes for baby girls are ridiculously cute. It's not even fair. Walk by a pink onesie that says "Love Me" on the front, and try not to buy it. But seriously, try--because Lyla already has it.

Warp

Julie's mom came up last night so Julie and I could take a three-hour Spanish cooking class at the Kitchen Window. It was like home-ec with better food and lots of wine.

And it was an awesome date without Lyla. I love staying home with her, but I do find myself going slightly insane sometimes. An infant represents an immense world of possibility, but when you're alone with one day after day, that world can feel rather small. Dates like last night make the world feel normal again.

Then today, Julie's mom hung out with Lyla while Julie shopped with her sister and I hung out with a buddy. We saw Star Trek, and I must say that I haven't had that much fun in space since the 1980s when a certain empire struck back.

So it's like Julie and I got to warp to our old lives for 24 hours. For me, it was therapy.

Oh, and I missed Lyla a lot. Warping back was actually the best part.

Binky

Lyla woke me up crying half a dozen times last night. In each instance, I found her on her stomach, apparently unsure of how she got there or what to do next. When I flipped her back, she fell asleep instantly.

Well, almost instantly. First I had to locate her binky and shove it in her mouth before her frustration escalated to rage. It was either in the crib somewhere, in her bin of stuffed animals on the floor, or on the floor itself.

I'll admit that when I found the binky on the floor at 3:00 in the morning, I blew on it like an old Nintendo game and called it clean enough.

We need a bucket of binkies by her bed, or maybe something not so alliterative.

Flipper

At one of the daycare centers we didn't end up choosing, I noticed two infants napping on their stomachs. Wanting to appear stern and discriminating, I said, "Do you typically allow infants to sleep on their stomachs here?" This was the same center whose director didn't know what baby sign language was. The three women in the room stammered that the babies started on their backs but flipped themselves over to their stomachs.

I knew this was probably fine, but I still replied with a "Hmm" designed to neither accept nor reject the explanation. At Lyla's six month checkup a couple weeks later, her pediatrician confirmed that if a baby can roll around, the chances of SIDS decrease significantly, and stomach sleeping is okay if the baby initiates it.

So this morning, Julie shook me awake and said I had to come see something. I plodded after her into the nursery and there was Lyla, fast asleep on her stomach.

I flipped her back anyway, just in case.

Baptized

Lyla was baptized tonight in a gown that is now five generations old. She didn't spit up or poop on it, which might very well have been divine intervention.

The ceremony itself was cool. My grandpa's a retired minister, so he did it from memory using water in a large wooden bowl that Julie and I got as a wedding present. Relatives from both sides of our family sat in a circle, so it was like baptism in the round.

Julie and I didn't realize that this baptism would be a gift event. We expected the ceremony, the cake, and the cute baby, but we did not envision wrapped packages. Not that we're complaining.

We're glad we got Lyla baptized in a way that was personal and involved members of both our families. It all felt right and fit Lyla perfectly.

So did the gown.

Thrash

Lyla's crib acrobatics have definitely affected her sleep. Whereas previously she might wake up and put herself back to sleep, now she'll wake up, get herself stuck, and scream. I'll walk in and there she is, smashed against the side of her crib, on her stomach, leg stuck between the bars.

It's kind of funny, but tiring. Today it caught up with her, though, and she napped for two hours straight.

Oh, and peas are going better. The perfect combination involves rice cereal made with breast milk and a little pear juice, and peas mixed in. You should try it.

So what do you do about a baby's mobility in the crib? Live with it? Tire her out mercilessly before putting her to bed? Tie her down? Well, probably not that. Hopefully it's a phase, this notion she has that because she's able to move, she should at all times. Maybe in a couple weeks she'll wake up and be tempted to thrash around but decide against it, realizing that going back to sleep is easier.

Right.

Cope

Today Lyla woke up 90 minutes early. When she finally did fall asleep at nap times, they lasted half as long as usual. Plus, she's been fussy all day. Essentially, she's been acting like a big baby.

So since Julie got home, I've been exhausted and cranky, but things are looking up. Rather than cook any of the myriad boring foods we have here for dinner, I went out and got sushi takeout and wine.

And when Lyla goes to bed, I'm going to eat ice cream and play video games. So there.