*First of all, thank you all so much for your thoughtful comments and suggestions re: The Cat Situation (or maybe a more apropos title would be The Neighbor Situation?). I’m trying many of your suggestions and will update on that front soon.

*We took Marin to Kindergarten registration the other night. It was so alike and so different from when we took Joan and Kate to their registration night. Now their elementary school is familiar, comfortable, known. Back then it was all new, all unknown and overwhelming. Marin, too, was so different, because she’s been going to that school with me for various things since she can remember (to volunteer with me, to eat lunch with the girls, to drop something off for them, etc). She marches in there like she owns the place, which is basically how she marches through life anyway, but at the school she has an extra confidence. She knows where she’s going.

However, the talk was the same, in the same gym with the same stack of institutional papers to fill out with the same pens that barely work. It’s mostly the same teachers, with the same type of photo montage of A Kindergartener’s Day set to a Disney song. So it was a bit odd, being in such a different place as parents, but back in the exact same place, ya know? Also, it’s all very sunrise-sunset because Marin will be going to that school next year, just in time for Kate and Joan to be moving on to the next school.

*Kate was going through an anxious spell a few weeks ago, but she seems to have come through it. I’m not putting her to bed in tears every night now, and she’s happy in the morning and eager to go off to school. She is still seeing the Family Coordinator Not Counselor But Sorta Lady, and she really enjoys seeing her. I’m not quite sure what they talk about or whatever, but perhaps having a PLACE to put her worries helps her to be more calm the rest of the time?

I will admit to be a little… skittish around the fact that she is talking to this (very super duper nice) woman every week. I guess it boils down to me being a bit afraid that Kate will tell her some small detail and from that detail the woman/school/teachers will make some kind of not-quite-accurate judgement about our family that I’ll never be able to correct. Being misunderstood is one of my biggest fears/pet peeves, so you can see why this is a bothersome worry. It’s definitely not something I DWELL on, or plan to DO anything about, but it’s there, lurking. Luckily, I feel like most people at the school know our family and even know me and my girls personally, so that helps ease this worry.

*Olive has, for the past 3 days, pooped herself awake from her nap prematurely. Like, 30-45 minutes into a 2-3 hour nap, she poops awake. And then by the time I change her, she’s AWAKE-awake, and not at all able to go back to sleep. AND if I don’t change her (which happened one day accidentally when I didn’t REALIZE she was poopy), she can’t sleep EITHER, as she doses and wakes, doses and wakes. She then spends the rest of our afternoon in indignant rage over the fact that she’s TIRED. I’ve been able to get her back down for a little while most days, but it’s just not the SAME as a real, 2-3 hour nap, and BOY OH BOY does she let me KNOW THIS. I’M SORRY, KID, IT’S NOT *ME* POOPING YOU AWAKE… IT’S YOU!


She also has been up all night (does anyone else remember the TNT “^Up^ All Night” lady? Just me?). And you know, I’ll nurse her whenever, all night, blah blah, but the deal is? She in turn has to let me SLEEP through the nursings. But lately, she’s been about as fun as sleep with a deranged weasel. I haven’t slept more than an hour or two at a time for many nights now, and it’s starting to wear me thin. This baby is the most violent baby I know; she’s constantly pinching and scratching me to the point where she’s actually drawn blood and caused bruises…. MULTIPLE TIMES. In fact, the tops of my breasts and my underarms (both places she enjoys pinching while nursing) are constantly a pretty array of blues and purples and yellows; different stages of healing bruises. I also have a smattering of little scabs healing from her scritchy little fingernails, which I SWEAR I clip about every… 15 minutes or so. She, of course, doesn’t MEAN to hurt me, but it doesn’t make her flailing little body any more pleasant to be with, knowing it’s not intentional.

Her daytime hours are spent frustrated and tired, the latter for obvious reasons and the former because she want to MOVE… but can’t really. Her primary mode of locomotion is arbitrarily flailing her body around until she gets across the floor. She’s not in control of which direction she goes, or even how she gets there. She simply rolls and kicks and planks and jerks around, and it moves her places. She can easily get up on her hands and TOES and hold the position for a respectful amount of time, and she SOMETIMES gets on her knees and rocks until accidentally dive-bombing her face into the floor. She can sit for a long time now, until she decides to try getting on her hands and knees from the sitting position, which always ends in wails of distress, and her new trick is shakily pulling herself up on things, only to realize OH SHIT I DON’T REALLY KNOW HOW TO STAND AND/OR HOW TO SIT BACK DOWN HELLLLLLP MEEEEEE.

Good times!

Her main saving grace is that she IS getting to the point where she understands us, which is gratifying. I’ve been doing a few baby signs with her (mostly “milk” and “change” as in: diaper), and if I ask her if she wants some milk while signing it, she does that pathetic laugh/cry thing that babies do in times of anticipation. She also really REALLY enjoys “So BIG!”, and she’ll make eye contact with someone in public and fling her arms joyfully above her head, all while locking eyes with them, as if to say “I am a one-trick pony and So Big is my one trick and you will watch me and ENJOY IT,” which of course they usually do. Such eye contact on such a young baby! they say. (Her good eye contact is what helps me realize she’s not, say, autistic, because if you heard the weird, loud, ear-piercing howler-monkey/pterodactyl noises this kid makes you’d wonder too.)

*I got a new iPhone, my first iAnything, and I know am a parishioner in the house of iThings. I… I LOVE it, you guys. Seeing as how my last phone no longer rang or notified me of text messages, and send me week-old voicemails, pretty much ANYTHING would be better. Smoke-signals, even. But I did not expect to love a… PHONE so much. But I do. I DOOOOOOO. I chose the iPhone, in case you’re curious, because of the camera, and it has not disappointed. I’ve only downloaded two apps (Draw Something and Instagram), and I can’t imagine getting any more… there are not enough hours in the day!

*I also have been part of founding a new childbirth collective in our area, a resource that our area needs badly. It’s been a very fun, time-consuming, inspiring group to be a part of. We had our first even last weekend when we screened the movie Doula! (exclamation point the film’s, not mine). It was a really fun night with a great turn-out and so many interesting, like-minded people to talk to. My doula-spirit has been dormant lately, but I feel it waking up and being reborn.

*We are hosting David’s side for Easter here this Sunday. All THIRTY FIVE OF THEM OMG. I like my in-laws, I really do, and hand-to-god would choose to be friends with some of them even if we weren’t related, but having ALL THIRTY FIVE OF THEM in my house at once is stressing me out, I’ll be honest. I’m thinking that starting off the day with several mimosas to¬†get myself to a nice, safe, don’t-give-a-shit state right away might be a good strategy. However, it’s a strategy I might need to start employing, like, NOW. I don’t know about you, but my house never feels so dirty and gross as when I’m expecting a large number of in-laws (as in, not MY family) over. SIGH.