Baby's First Tooth

Baby’s First Tooth

Peanut has been feverish and grumpy and whiney lately. In short she has been an unhappy baby. It makes me sad to see her so unhappy.

However, the reason has become apparent. Her first tooth is coming out. For the past several days we’ve been fighting and struggling to get her to open her mouth and take a picture of it. It would be really neat to have a picture of her first tooth. It’s one of the bottom teeth in the front, on her left.

My goal has been an abject failure. She moves to fast. The shutter speed on the camera is to slow, even though its pumped up to the highest level. There are any number of reasons to explain the failure to produce a picture of her tooth (The most obvious one being that I am a second rate photographer).

Regardless, the point is moot now. Yesterday I noticed, to mixed feeling of chagrin and excitement, that her second front tooth is also coming in. So much for my spectacular picture.

All of this brings up the fact that teething is an awful experience for both the baby and the parent. Clearly it is more painful for her. But, at the same time, its no cakewalk for me either. There is not much to do but live through it. I’ve talked to several fathers who claim changing diapers is their least favorite thing about babies. I’ll take a stinky overfilled diaper, or ten, over teething any day.

It ranks up there with the first few weeks home after the hospital. She is waking every hour or so to be fed. The crying and whining and lack of sleep is awful.

Almost anything will set Peanut off right now. I peek in her mouth to see her teeth she bawls. I put her down to do some quick chores she cries. I put her in her swing yesterday evening to work on an article. She flipped.

My wife swears by Hyland’s Teething Tablets. Supposedly they relieve the pain from cutting gums. So we pay the outrageous price tag for a bottle smaller than my cell phone. When she takes them they dissolve into white goo. She seems to cry less afterward. Maybe the taste of them distracts her from the pain for a short while.

Peanut now has two pretty white teeth with two on the top about to emerge. They are shiny and bright. Our culture glorifies shiny white pearls. All the superstar actors have them. When they smile its like being caught in head lights. But for the average person its almost unnatural to have such a bright smile at thirty or even forty.

Even with good oral hygiene teeth wear out. Coffee, tobacco, and a host of other things render them dull and lackluster. By forty you’ve had your teeth for almost thirty years. Nothing looks shiny and new after that long.

Of course if you have several thousand dollars you can visit the orthodontist and get a set of caps. Your teeth will look like brand new baby teeth.

I had already thought Peanut’s smile was the prettiest smile by half. Now, when she smiles at me with her shiny new teeth I swear its the best smile in the world. It is warm, endearing, and full of life. People spend a fortune to have her smile. I get it every day for free.

Now I know that my fellow parents out there are thinking that its their baby not mine that has the best smile. Maybe so. Consider each of our perspectives after all. Feel free to share your stories. Either the difficulty of going through teething, for both of you, or you joy at your baby’s new teeth.

I'm a Bad Daddy

So, as it turns out, I’m a monster.

Peanut and I were playing the other day.I had this silly snowman stuffy. It’s a small plush snowman with a red scarf and a red Santa hat with a green puffy ball on the tip. She really likes this guy.

I put her in her Boppy. Then she tries to grab the snowman as I swing it back and forth. She latches on to it and I let go. Then she holds it, wiggles it, or stuffs it in her mouth (Babies will put anything in their mouth no matter how disgusting, including roly-polies , but that a different story).

We had been playing this for a bit (We play every day but not always with the same toy) when she grabbed the thing a put the ball part of the hat in her mouth.

Watching this, musing about how adorable babies are, it stuck me in a terrible flash that the puffy ball is exactly the right size to clog her little throat. This was one of those, “Oh My Lord” type moments. I seized the snowman and immediately disposed of it (By putting it in a box for when she’s bigger). We played some more of course.

But, later when she was napping I took some time to look around our home and apprise myself of the multitude of death traps it contained.

When my wife was nearing the end of her pregnancy it seemed prudent to baby-proof the house. This was not new to me. Our apartment was baby-proofed, constantly, for my first son. It was small and cramped and dangerous things seem to have a habit of appearing near your baby. Its as if the baby is a magnet for everything sharp, pointy, and miniature throat sized.

We moved before my second son was born. I went through the whole process again. Then Peanut came along and I thought I had done a reasonable job of ridding areas she would venture though of hazards. Yet, here I was staring at a vile stuffy designed to harm my angel.

What really got to me were the unlimited phantoms that might be harmful. If you look hard enough everything becomes a potential source of harm to baby. She plays in the same room I work on my computer in. Drop a pencil on the floor? Pick it up right away. Same with an eraser, don’t want her choking. I used to put my cup of coffee on the floor next to my desk. If I wanted some I leaned back picked it up and had a sip.

Not anymore. My wife would never let me hear the end of it if when Peanut starts crawling the first thing she does is help herself to my scalding hot coffee.

Its not like I’m one of those baby-safety alarmists (though I might be). Its simply that everywhere I look I see images of carnage. My wife says I always see the worst in things. Only, its not a compliment when she says it.

Anyway its my responsibility to insure that we aren’t incentivizing boo-boos. I went online to find some websites with suggestions to improve our safety level. Many of them are simply shilling safety products under the guise of being informative. A few don’t even seem to have much to do with child safety.

A couple are rather good though. I particularly like Dr. Baby. I know it sounds kind of blithe. But, it is actually an informative site. I especially like the pictures of toddlers about to engage in various dangerous act. I know they are meant to help you visualize the potential for danger but some of them are quite humorous.

Another neat site is Baby Proofing Faq which was compiled by Sandra Smith. Parents from all over shared various stories of situations their children had gotten into. One guys son actually pulled over their TV and was pinned under it, though he was okay (FAQ # 14).

Another fellow told of a story in the news where a toddler climbed onto a gas range (stovetop), the kind with flat tops. He somehow had managed to turn it on. While standing on it the rubber soles of his shoes melted trapping him to the range. The images this put in my head sent shivers down my spine. I can not imagine coming over to the kitchen to find this happening (FAQ #1).

In all many of the stories are humorous anecdotes suggesting a few adjustments to your home. While some of the steps suggested might be considered overreacting. Being overly safe will keep your baby from chocking, or having a TV fall on them, or perhaps worse.

Those of you who have your own stories of gross, but unintentional, negligence please share. We’ll all get a kick out of it. But we might just learn something to. Nothing too icky if you don’t mind.

Strangers Can Be So Rude

Strangers Can Be So Rude

So I was in the food store the other day. Peanut picks this opportune moment to start bawling. It had been a long day. I know she doesn’t like her car seat. But she is not big enough to be propped up in the front of the cart. I get her out to calm her down, but she is clearly upset.

Now I’m holding and trying to comfort an unhappy baby girl. And I’m trying to keep the cart moving, don’t want to lose the car seat because I’d really be in the soup then. All the while I’ve been trying to get some ice cream to feed my gluttonous sweet tooth.

Then I notice this woman giving me a look. Clearly asking where the baby’s mother is. I have been judged and found wanting in the baby raising department.

It is the kind of look where you are supposed to notice it and accept the rebuke. But not so over the top that you react with, “Yo, whats your problem.” Not that I would do that in front of my little girl.

I have three children and I have been in stores with each of them many times. I’ve gotten this look before. When a baby is with their father and is unruly, or grumpy, or simply tired and irritable it’s his fault. Yet when the mother is the one with the unruly baby other women have looks of sympathy.

This is not true of all women of course. There are a select few who glare at you this way. Others seem bemused that you are even there with the baby. A few even look at the father with sympathy, or possibly empathy.

I’m not the best father in the world, I can admit this. But I can change diapers with the best of them. I wash clothes and make bottles. I can feed her the goo that Gerber calls food. We play together.

I don’t appreciate being judged by strangers in stores. It may be ingrained due to the cultural stereotype that women should raise babies. (I guarantee you I didn’t ask for a lay off when the store I worked for collapsed.) I prefer to be non-confrontational. I have more important things to do than waste time with some goofball.

Most importantly I don’t want her growing up believing that it is the purview of women alone to bear the brunt of childrearing. Some of my fondest memories involve my two boys between the ages of one and two. If she marries and has children I don’t want her husband to shirk chores and joys because of a cultural precept.

Even odder, I think that certain aspects of child-rearing can be very masculine. Men are supposed to like to fix things (problem-solvers or some such). Baby’s got poop. I can fix that. Baby’s hungry. I can fix that. Baby’s sleepy. I can fix that. The tentacle fell off your octopus. I can try to fix that. So if my baby is sad or scared and crying, don’t look at me funny. I can fix this too.

Recall Alert: Kolcraft Play Yards

Kolcraft Enterprises and the US Consumer Product Safety Commission issued a voluntary recall today for one million Play Yards. The play yard's side rail can fail to latch properly. When children push or lean against it the latch can collapse resulting in injury.

There have been 347 reports to the firm of unexpected collapse of the device resulting in 21 injuries.

The recall applies to approximately one million units of play sets made by Kolcraft for Kolcraft, Carter's, Sesame Street, Jeep, Contours, Care Bears, and Eric Carle Play Yards. The products were manufactured in China, Italy, and Spain.

There are 21 different products from seven company lines affected. These were mostly sold at Babies R Us, Kmart, Sears, Target, Walmart and various internet retailors from January 2000 through January 2009.

This is the same company which issued a previous recall notice for play yards in 2007after the tragic strangulation and death of a 10 month old baby.

Outrageously the voluntary recall requires consumers to contact Kolcraft for a free repair kit which must then be properly installed by the consumer.

Kolcraft can be reached at their website:
http://www.kolcraft.com/

Or by their toll free number: 1 (800) 594-4208

Their website is not user friendly unless your buying something. It might be easier for you to call them.

Visit the CSPC's website for pictures and model numbers of affected products.
http://www.cpsc.gov/cpscpub/prerel/prhtml09/09265.html

Boppy: Every Baby Needs One

Boppy: Every Baby Needs One

My wife recently informed me that Peanut had to have a Boppy. I mean absolutely unequivocally had to have a Boppy right now. My obvious response was, “I’m watching TV.” After being glared at my second reply was, “What’s a Boppy?” Really, that’s a pretty goofy name. She went on to inform me over the next twenty minutes all about Boppys, thus ruining my show and giving me a headache.

It turns out that Boppys are horseshoe shaped pillows with removable covers (called slipcovers). You have the option of buying the Bare Naked (sic, visit their website) Pillow version. Or you can buy a pillow w/slipcase set. Either way you can then proceed to purchase alternate pattern slipcovers.

Upon learning this I was dumbfounded. I thought to myself, “My God this could cost a fortune.” There were images in my head of my wife coming home with bags literally stuffed with pretty slipcases for every occasion. The covers are reasonably priced, but ten of anything quickly sends reason to the chopping block.

I thought if I just said no that would be the end of this (as if I have any authority). I quickly put that nonsense out of my head and decided I ought to be paying attention. We agreed that she could buy one preferably the set (since that is usually the better deal as it is in this case). If however, they had a slipcover she really liked she could buy them separately.

This is my third baby and I think I’ve gotten used to the weird stuff women buy or babies. Some pretty crazy things have come home in the last ten years. For thirty bucks my wife would be happy and we’d have another thingamajig gathering dust in the corner, or on a shelf taking up much needed space. Whatever, she would be happy. Boy was I wrong. Peanut’s Boppy is fantastic.

The basic purpose of a Boppy is to allow baby to be propped up instead of lying on her back. Babies love this. Peanut really loves this function. We’ve had our pillow over a month now. Everyday I settle her into her Boppy to play with her hanging play sets. The elevation allows her to more easily reach the baubles hanging from the playset’s frame. Despite being unable to sit up herself she can now, while elevated, comfortably reach, hold, and pull on her toys. It has made the play sets a much more enjoyable experience for her.

Another function they push at you is to put your baby on her tummy on the pillow. She can roll over by herself now but lacks the strength and coordination to crawl. When on her tummy on the pillow the heightened level of sight is great. She loves looking around, especially at the dog when it strolls by.

She also likes to use her feet to push her head over the top of the pillow and view the world upside down. She doesn’t seem to hurt her neck. I cannot fathom why she enjoys looking at things upside down though.

Another use is to put it on your lap, put baby and top of it, and feed her. I’ve noticed that after she eats and burps if I rest her on the pillow she tends to spit up less (advertised right on the packaging and surprisingly true). You can also use it to rest your laptop on (not a recommended use and don’t let your wife catch you).

Once your baby can sit up, which mine can’t, the Boppy acts as a buffer to both help them stay up and provide a softer landing when they topple over.

We also use it to play peek-a-boo. Put your baby on her back with her head in the center of the pillow. Get down on the floor and peek up over the top at her and go, “Boo.” Repeat. Some days this drives her wild. Other days she looks at me as if I’m insane. Be warned, your other kids will snicker at you if they catch you doing this.

If your girlfriend, wife, sister, etc. is going to have a baby get them one of these. Next time your wife has to go to a baby shower check the registry, if there is one. If there is a Boppy on it get it. If there isn’t a Boppy on the list get one anyway, and a smaller selection from the approved list, assuming your not strapped for cash. This gift will go over really well.

Make sure she brings the receipt. If someone else gives the soon-to-be mother a Boppy tell your wife to have her return it and get some extra slipcovers. This will meet with universal agreement. Your wife may not admit it was you who suggested the idea at the party but I guarantee she’ll thank you in her own way.

Recall Alert: Simplicity Drop Side Crib

The U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission issued a recall alert for the Simplicity Drop Side Crib.

Sections of the plastic hardware can break creating a space between the mattress and the and the hinged drop side of the crib. There is a risk of suffocation and or other injuries.

This recall follows a similar one on Simplicity cribs issued in 2007. The products were manufactued in China for distribution in US Depatment stores.

An eight month old baby in Houston, TX was trapped by the defective product and suffocated. There have been twenty five other reported injuries, but no other fatalities. The The U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission reports that over 400, 000 units have been sold in the Us from 2005 to 2009. Some News agencies claim as many as a million such products may have been sold.


The CPSC recommends that you immediately cease using the crib. You can return the product to the place of purchase for a replacement crib, store credit, or refund as per each retailers policy.

Visit the Government's official recall website at: http://www.recalls.gov/

Alternately visit the page regarding the crib specifically: http://www.cpsc.gov/cpscpub/prerel/prhtml09/09260.html

Consider signing up for their E-mail notification: http://www.recalls.gov/list.html

Bath Time Fun

Bath Time Fun

Bath time provides an excellent opportunity to clean your baby, spend some time with her, and give her a chance at some all around good fun. I love bath time.

Most little ones seem to enjoy it. My kids did. My youngest son absolutely loves it. We have a bucket with cheaply made plastic army men, policemen, firemen, and assorted vehicles. He takes them into the tub with him. When he was smaller he had duckies and other goofy looking bath toys acquired from a half dozen stores and shops.

We fill the tub up and add one of a dozen choices of bubble bath. For a time he could not resist a new bottle of bubble bath mix. If he saw a bottle on the shelf that he did not recognize I was informed that we needed it. At one point we had a dozen and a half partially full bottles. My older son likes bubble baths to, so the stuff all got used up eventually.

So when Peanut came home from the hospital I had images in my head of bath time fun and how great it would be. She would splash around. She would play with bubbles. Her love for daddy would grow ten-fold overnight.

But you can’t dunk newborns in the tub, or the sink, or even their own special baby bath. I dutifully waited for her cord to fall off. She got scrubbed with damp soft hand towels. I used lightly soapy slightly warm water.

The soap and shampoo were both tear free. Neither was tested on animals. Little girls don’t like people torturing bunnies after all. I assume. Actually I’m not sure but its not worth the risk of her hating me for washing her with a product that hurt furry little critters

Anyway I waited and scrubbed her with towels and waited some more. Finally it was time for her bath. We had gotten a baby bath at a consignment store for seven bucks. I bought this when my wife was still pregnant.

I don’t think she was pleased that I had purchased a used, beat up, and clearly discount version of a tub for her precious little angel. It seemed like a bargain. Bargains have gotten me into trouble before.

She had bought a really nice one for our first son. It cost over thirty dollars ten years ago. It was quite nice, really sturdy. The thing didn’t drain though. It had a drain hole with a plug to close it. But when you opened the plug to drain it the thing didn’t work right. I hated giving the boy a bath in it. He quickly outgrew it.

Somehow it got placed in the garage in a space away from the other baby stuff. So when my wife gave her baby stuff to a friend who was pregnant the bath didn’t go away. We didn’t need to buy one when she got pregnant again. I think she would have preferred to buy a new bath but my arguments won out. This was one of those fights where by winning you actually lose though.

I had baby’s tub ready. (I feel bad now, three months later. I really should have bought her a pretty frilly tub instead of a beat up old one.) We were ready. The tub was full of warn, not hot, water. Very comfortable really. I had her soaps ready. I got her ready and we went over to the sink. I put her in, remember ten-fold love, and.... She started bawling.

She was screaming. There were these sad little tears running down her cheeks. She was looking at me like I was a monster who eats babies for lunch. I was absolutely horrified. This had gone all wrong. A magical moment had turned into a nightmare.

She got her bath. Afterwards we had a bottle and she calmed down. Not sure what to do the best course seemed to be I decided to pretend it never happened. (My wife will find herself learning of this about the same time you do.)

The next day I almost didn’t give her a bath I was so concerned over what might happen. But I did, and man was that the right decision. She did a complete 360 in twenty four hours. She went in the tub without any complaints. She sat there in the water. She was watching the water come out of the faucet while I was washing her hair. I moved it over towards her and she put her little hand under the water and just held it there letting water flow over her arm. This was much closer to the reaction I had expected the day before.

We have had a bath everyday since then. Usually in the late afternoon when she winding down from the day. Over the following weeks she really took to her baths like a duck to water. Now she tries to drink the water when I wash her hair and face. Every bath we have a portion of time devoted to drinking water.

After she gets washed I put some soap under the running water and she gets a bunch of bubbles. She loves to watch them. Sometimes she’ll dunk her hand in them and pick some up. Then she proceeds to shake her hand wildly sending suds all over. This gets a giggle out of her every time. If I’m not careful Peanut will try to put her suds filled hand in her mouth. I guess they look yummy. But non-toxic doesn’t mean it tastes good.

Just last week she decided to kick at the water. Just because she is little doesn’t mean she can’t make a big splash. I got soaked. She thought it was hilarious. Now she kicks at the water every time.

In the long run I was right about the bonding and ever-growing love. It just didn’t work out immediately like I thought it would. We have fun together. Most importantly we have managed to make a mundane daily chore into an exciting adventure.

Baby's First Meal

Baby’s First Meal

It was time for baby’s first meal. This was very exciting for me. I wasn’t the one who fed either of my boys their first meal. My wife was. I don’t even think I was home when it happened. I was sure going to be here when my little girl had her first meal.

I know how that sounds, she four months old and I’m just now getting around to feeding her for the first time! What kind of monster am I? No. No. No. She’s been sucking back milk like a piglet for months.

Today however would be different. I was very excited but I’d also been putting it off. You can start feeding babies food (baby food of course not fried chicken) as young as four months. We have been having cereal though it isn’t much fun. At six months you can feed them fruit and vegetable puree. Its real food not watered down white slop


Recently she has been licking her chops every time she sees me eat. The other day we were in a sandwich place. Nothing fancy, they sell sandwiches and smoothies and what not. We sat down after ordering. When the sandwiches came I pulled out a cucumber slice to chomp on. Baby started licking her chops. It looks like she is pantomiming eating. Her lips go up and down a lot and she drools.

When I didn’t give her the cucumber slice she absolutely flipped out. I mean she started screaming like a maniac. So I took her to the car. (I wasn’t going to keep her in the shop. I always hate it when parents let there children cry loudly inside stores and restaurants. It’s great they have a parenting method that involves their baby ruining other people’s shopping but come on take the brat outside. You don’t need to ruin my lunch.)

I fed her a bottle. She stopped crying long enough to drink it. Afterwards she presumed to begin screaming and crying again. I swear she was still mad I didn’t give her the darn cucumber slice.


Another time a few days later I was making pasta for dinner. (Yeah I make it. If my wife does it the stuff turns to mush. Just like when she makes risotto it is always soggy. Don’t know why. It just is. Like the time she made bacon. She said it took me to long to make it my way so she would do it. What she served looked and tasted more like charcoal than bacon. She’s never asked to make bacon since.)


So anyway, I made dinner and set baby down to play while we ate. She flipped out. So I brought her to the kitchen and she sat in my lap while we ate dinner. She was licking her chops and chomping away on invisible food the whole time.


I had another similar experience before it occurred to me that she was ready to eat real food. Yeah, I’m kind of dense sometimes. So I checked out our copy of What to Expect When Your Expecting. It doesn’t say much about baby’s first year mostly because the authors want you to buy What to Expect the Fist Year. That book ends abruptly so that you need to buy a copy of What to expect the Toddler Years. The authors should wonder what to expect if they meet me since I’m irate at how much money they conned my wife out of.

We received a copy of each of them when she got pregnant the first time. When my son was three I was cleaning to make space. I saw these books and figured, “Hey, he’s three we don’t need these.” So I tossed them. A year later she was pregnant again. We dutifully expended the money to pick up a set of them again. About a year and a half ago I was cleaning again. (I should have put it off a couple weeks like I put everything else off.) I came across the books and said to myself, “Nah won’t happen” and tossed them. And about two weeks later she gave me the blessed news. So you can imagine what I did. These books ain’t going anywhere.


It was time to feed baby. I had learned the hard way about vegetables and carrots. The eldest son had mashed nannas for his first meal. He absolutely loved them. He wouldn’t eat anything else. Well that is not quite true. He liked apples, and pears, and sweet potatoes. Green beans. Nope. Those came right out. So with my second son she started him on vegetables. He didn’t care. If you put it in front of him he’d eat it. He’s was like a little garbage disposal.


I got her ready by putting her in her swing. She fits it better than she does her high chair. It is a little to big for her. We were going to have peas. It is a mashed green slurry that tastes more or less like smashed peas. (Yeah, I tried it. I wanted to know whether her slop was any good. It wasn’t.)




She was surprisingly cooperative for her first meal. Anyway she gobbled this slop down. She even grabbed my hand to pull the spoon into her mouth faster, and to far, causing her to cough and sputter. The second time she did this she didn’t choke herself. It was quite amusing.


After some spoonfuls of goop she had managed to make quite a mess of her face, and I made a mess of her head. We had a blast.
I can say it ended up in her hair. But that was my fault not hers.





Afterwards, she drank her bottle and took a bath. We played for a little bit. Then I put her down for her nap. It was all sort of anticlimactic but I’m still happy to have been a part of it.

Baby's Big Adventure

Baby's Big Adventure

Peanut has a play area in our central room. It’s a convenient location that has space for her toys and quick access for me to check up on her. However her mother, for some reason, doesn’t like the idea of her rolling around on the dirty carpet. I vacuum it twice a day so I’m not sure what the problem is.

My older son Henry sits on the filthy carpet playing X-Box and he hasn’t contracted any awful contagion. Cliff, my younger son plays robots vs. ninjas and he’s fine. Recently, since I became unemployed, I sit on it reading want ads and doing homework. I assure you that I have lots of problems but none of them are carpet related.

All of these cases aside my wife, arbitrarily, decided that Peanut would not be rolling around on the carpet. So about three months ago I went to the closet and got out a pretty blanket, made by my wife’s great-grandmother, and promptly started using it as a buffer between my girl and the floor. This particular blanket, there are many, had been sitting in the closet in a bag for five years. I had repeatedly hassled her about getting rid of it. It was taking up valuable towel real estate after all. Her eyes practically lit up in a triumphant “I told you” so gleam when she saw me using it. There was nothing subtle about it. The look said, “See we need this blanket to keep baby off of that awful carpet and you wanted to throw it out.” I learned a valuable lesson from this incident. Throw the stuff out and your wife won’t have a chance to look at you like that.

Anyway it’s actually kind of pretty. The thing is on the floor in front of the couch, convenient since that’s where I feed her. At one end is her sea-land fish adventure set (Baby Einstein) which we bought at a consignment store for thirty bucks (take that overpriced retailers). With it is her Boppy, it props her up and makes the sea critters easier to whap. At the other end of the blanket is a Sesame Street play set. Now this thing is really beat up. It is missing pieces and has toys attached to it that didn’t even come with it. But, it belonged to my oldest son and my younger son played with it when he was little. I like to imagine that my grandchildren will play with it some day.

This space is the center of her playtime world. Outside of sleeping (and napping) and eating this is where she spends her time. She can’t stand her car seat and hates going into stores. She doesn’t like her swing or vibrating chair. My boys loved the swing and the chair. Both liked riding in the car even when very little. Not Peanut, she likes it at home, and while she doesn’t like car rides she seems to like her stroller. Which, oddly enough, is her car seat attached to a two-stage stroller.

So in the morning when we get up I change her and get her dressed for the day. Hah, that’s funny. Peanut like most babies can go through three or four outfits easy. Then I feed her and burp her. Some days this is as easy as it sounds. Other days she won’t burp or one of a hundred things that turns a fifteen minute feeding into a half an hour. Then I put her in her Boppy to play with her fishes.

This is where Baby’s Big Adventure begins. For Peanut going three feet is literally the journey of her life (she is only four months after all). It’s not far. Yet it is a challenging set of maneuvers, wiggles, twists, turns, rolls and grunts. It requires all her effort and focus. It takes about fifteen minutes (a long fifteen minutes for us both, her adventuring and me couch potatoing).

It starts with her getting propped up on her Boppy

after she finishes eating. She plays with the sea critters for a few minutes but rapidly becomes bored (babies tend to have short attention spans). She then slides down so that she is effectively laying down on her back surrounded by the Boppy. Next she wiggles away from it so that she has room to maneuver. At this point she’ll turn on her side a few times rolling on her back in between as she determines which position and angle she wants. When satisfied with her trajectory she then rolls onto her belly. Sometimes she needs a quick rest at this point for a minute or so. The effort to reach this point required great exertion on her part after all.

Peanut’s quest has reached its most challenging point now. She wants to crawl desperately. This endeavor occupies at least an hour of her time every day. What she does so far is more of a scoot than a crawl. It involves a combination of pushing with her feet and pulling on the blanket with her hands (remember that terrible triumphant look). She only has about a foot or a foot and a half to go but it seems to take forever. Every move is accompanied by a grunt, moan, whine, or occasionally mighty roar. Believe it or not she actually roars. The effect is uncannily like an adult who uses a holler to aid in a challenging and strenuous physical act.

Finally she reaches the edge of the blanket. Peanut sits there on her belly head held high with the happiest grin on her face. She seems to realize that she has accomplished something here. Though I doubt she has any idea what it is. She would like to go farther than the edge of the blanket but is not quite able yet. After about a minute or so, exhausted, she lies down and sucks her thumb. So ends Baby’s Big Adventure.

I shudder at the thought of her speed-crawling throughout the house. Soon her journey of a few feet will become a marathon voyage across the room and then other parts of the house I'd prefer she not go. It won't be long until she's walking and then running. Then in a flash she'll be dating young men I can't stand. Each of these steps leading to a renewal of the cycle so that she can experience these moments that bring me so much joy.