"Da-da, dammit!"

June 14th, 2006:

"Hey Baby Girl! Lola! Say Da-da....Daaaa-daaaaa."
"Mama!!"
"No, say Da-da!"
"Maaaamaaa!"
"Daaaaa-daaaaa"
"Ma ma ma ma ma ma ma ma......MAMA!"
"Da-da, dammit!"
"Ma! giggle giggle"

This is the conversation that was going on in the background while I washed up the baby dishes after Lola's brunch this morning. She has mastered the art of saying Mama. She says it all day long. Sometimes she says ba-ba, and sometimes ki-ki (kitty?). Somehow she just can't seem to figure out her "d" sound, however, which annoys poor Wil to no end. I think she does know how to say "Da-da" but just likes to torment him as much as I do!

Lola loves her food. She has progressed from cereal and apples to all kinds of mushy foods that Gerber is so nice to prepare so that I don't have to. I actually do taste all of her foods before I feed them to her, and I have to say they are pretty good! She really enjoys Apple and Strawberry flavor, as well as Carrot, Pear, Squash, and Pear with Squash. This morning she had Apple with Blueberry. Boy that one can stain a shirt. Out of all her foods, Sweet Potato is her absolute fave. She can down an entire stage 2 jar of that sweet goo. I didn't know her stomach was that big! She now eats two solid (does is qualify as solid? have you ever looked at baby food?) meals a day and nurses 3 or 4 times per day. This is good for me, as my poor breasts have been heaving a big sigh of relief lately.

The interesting thing about baby food is what it does to the baby's poo. I believe I discussed this previously, but it still does not cease to amaze me. Let me just say this: sweet potatoes in, sweet potatoes out. Think about that if you are considering adding a little bundle of joy to your family.
We went to Wil's brother's wedding a couple of weeks ago. I was pretty stressed out about this because we would have to stay in a hotel with the baby for 2 nights. Not just any hotel, but the Davenport Hotel. Fancy. Plus I knew that Lola would be passed around from relative to relative until sleep deprivation would turn her into a dragon. Then of course she would be passed back to me. This did happen, but by the time I got the little screamer, she was so sleepy that she would nearly pass out after a frenzy of aggravated nursing. We left our mark on the hotel though. Lola wore a beautiful little ivory dress to the wedding and the reception afterwards. She rolled around in her walker most of the reception.

Part way through the night, she suddenly became a crankasaurus, so I picked her up and packed her into the bathroom to change her. Of course this big extravagant hotel had no changing tables (maybe "Koala Kare" didn't go with the marble?) so I had to change her between the marble sinks. As I lifted her dress up to remove the bloomers, I felt sticky. I retracted my arm to find it covered in recycled sweet potatoes. Ug. At this point I knew we had trouble. It was everywhere. Easily the worst explosion yet, and I should have expected it with her wearing a light colored expensive dress and all. Luckily, my sis in law was there to help me with damage control. As I finally got Lola's dress off without spreading poo all the way up into her hair, she let loose all over the counter top with a puddle of pee. We must have used a whole basket of nicely folded white hand towels to deal with the mess. Needless to say, I think Wil's sister might be waiting a bit longer to start trying for kids now.

Lola's mean little teeth seem to be teasing us all lately. She cries and gnaws and has the snot nose and the frequent poops and the diaper rash, and all the other signs that the old ladies at church keep telling me means the teeth are soon to appear. And yet no teeth. Where are they? Why are they so cruel?

To make up for the frustration of the lack of teeth, Lola has reached another amusing milestone. She is mobile. She can scoot backwards really well on her tummy. The only problem is that she starts freaking out as her toys get further and further away, no matter how hard she tries to get them by going backwards. Recently she has discovered how to get up on her hands and knees, where she rocks for a few minutes before catapulting herself forward onto her nose. Then she cries, then she does it all over again. I get to watch this frustrating chain of events all day. I think having a baby causes at least as much brain cell loss as repeated Friday night tequilla contests. If so, I may be in trouble.

Well, until the next update....