Wednesday, May 27, 2009

It's Here!

Grace's high chair arrived earlier this week and I couldn't wait to see if Grace liked it. Up to this point, she had been taking her meals in her Bumbo seat.

Here is Grace in her Bumbo.
I am physically restraining her with one hand while feeding her and snapping this picture with the other.
Yes... I have 3 hands!

I am not a huge fan of the Bumbo - (I think there are a few other brands out there that are exactly the same concept - only better) and neither is Grace. I would say that during almost every single meal, she tries to back-hand-spring her way out of it. This can get a bit treacherous as I break the one and only steadfast rule of the Bumbo which is "Do Not Use on Elevated Surfaces." So, of course, I put the Bumbo on my elevated kitchen island where a slippery back hand spring could actually be quite catastrophic. Thus, it was time for a high chair.

Grace didn't know what to think about this new eating throne until she gave it the OFFICIAL "taste test..."

Thankfully, it passed...she downed two canisters of baby food...not to mention the thing is SUPER cute! She still kinda looks a little like this in it...

but not quite as creepy. I am extremely biased but I think her's ado-able! (Oops, looks like my constant baby talk banter is rubbing off in my blog posts!)

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

More Peas!

I was nervous to start introducing green vegetables. It appears that I have nothing to worry about. She is an eating machine!

Saturday, May 16, 2009

First Foods

We are plowing our way through Gerber's first foods trying each one for the obligatory 4-5 days to ensure no allergic reaction. (No, I am not making my own baby food and if you do, more power to you, but I think you fall into the same category of people who choose not to get epidurals...crazzz...I mean, interesting.)

Applesauce...check! Sweet Potatoes...yep! Bananas...nailed it! Prunes...Prunes?!?!

Grace's thoughts exactly!
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Wednesday, May 13, 2009


As I was checking out at the grocery store yesterday, the checker told me I had a very cute baby. I blushed and said thank you.

I noticed that she kept looking from Grace to me, back to Grace, several times. Finally, in exasperation, as if she was putting the pieces of a puzzle together and came across a piece that clearly did not belong, she asked, "Are you the nanny?"

In her mind apparently, Grace was far too cute to be a child of mine!

Friday, May 8, 2009

The Invisible Mom

I recently came across this excerpt from Nicole Johnson's novel, The Invisible Mom, and it made me think...and then it made me feel grateful for my chance to be "invisible".

Stroller Strides Blog Invisible Mom

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I’m on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I’m thinking, ‘Can’t you see I’m on the phone?’

Obviously no one can see if I’m on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I’m invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?

Some days I’m not a pair of hands; I’m not even a human being. I’m a clock to ask, ‘What time is it? I’m a satellite guide to a answer, ‘What number is the Disney Channel? I’m a car to order, ‘Right around 5:30, please.’

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She’s going, she’s going, and she’s gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, ‘I brought you this.’ It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn’t exactly sure why she’d given it to me until I read her inscription: To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.

In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals, we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, ‘Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it. And the workman replied, ‘Because God sees.’

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you’ve done, no sequin you’ve sewn on, no cupcake you’ve baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can’t see right now what it will become.'

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.

I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don’t want my son to tell the friend he’s bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, ‘My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies. Then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.’ That would mean I’d built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, ‘you’re gonna love it there.’

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we’re doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

Happy Mother's Day to all mothers...everywhere...

but in particular...

to my invisible mom.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

When they're ready...they're ready!

They say children are ready to start eating solid foods when they grab at your food and show interest in what you are eating...I think Grace is subtly trying to tell me something...

or not so subtly!

Saturday, May 2, 2009

It's working!

The Jumperoo is making for one happy mommy...I mean baby!

It also makes for one SLEEPY baby! Moohoohahhaahhah