A Select Few

Emma is now almost two months old. Somewhere in the gap between Jack and Emma, I've forgotten that around two months of age is when a baby starts to lock onto your face with his/her eyes.. and not just by accident. This is the real thing - a deliberate stare at your mouth, your nose, your chin, your hair. Your baby is taking you in in every single way, and you are important to her. You KNOW this is the real thing because the eyes suddenly stop scanning and fix right on yours. What a great feeling! And you can't help yourself. You smile and immediately begin jabbering on in this weird, instinctual "mommy talk". A second and third confirmation comes. She smiles BACK and her legs kick suddenly at the excitement of this moment between the two of you.

So now that I've discovered my ability to evoke this happy reaction from Emma, I've been feeling pretty special lately. Emma seems to be head over heels for me! I'm hilarious and fun - the best mommy you'll ever know. And it certainly is a big high to be able to cause such a monumental bright spot in her day. Not many can do this, you know. This reaction is reserved for a select few: me, daddy, grandmas,

...aaaand the ceiling fan.

Thank You, Josh

Thanks, Josh, for some beautiful pictures of our family. Beautiful.

A Look Back at Jack

A few have asked me, "Who does Emma look like? You or Jim? I can't tell." The truth is, I don't think she necessarily looks like either of us right now. She looks like her brother did when he was the same age. I offer people this opinion, and to my surprise, several have looked at me with doubting looks on their faces. "Like Jack? You think so? Hmm... I don't knoooow."

Maybe they just don't remember the infant version of Jack. And now, it doesn't help that he looks nothing like he did when he was little, little. But the minute that they put little crying Emma into my arms, I was overwhelmed with recognition. I was looking down at the same pouty bottom lip that Jack has when he cries, and the deja vu sensation took my breath away.

I have gathered evidence to support this - mostly for those naysayers out there. Check out the four pictures below, and perhaps they'll help to jog the memories.

How's that, Mom?

With the last entry, I gave my mom the heebie-jeebies. Not everyone appreciates crazy eyed babies, I suppose. Grandmas want cute baby faces for a screensaver at work. Grandmas do not want grandkids looking alien-esque via still shot. Okay yeah, I get that. So yes, I've taken the challenge - the challenge being to take a picture where my kid #2 looks somewhat photogenic. Photogenic as opposed to off-balance.

So, we grabbed the camera tonight. We got to it. We struck a pose. There was nothing to it. ( Huh? Well yeah... "Vogue" WAS playing on the radio. It's like you people are in my miiiiind.)

Did you bring the camera?

Hello everyone. I hope your holidays were as great as ours. We were busy with lots of fun family and friend visiting. I would show you, but it seemed that everytime Jim and I would leave the house, we would turn to each other and ask, "Did you bring the camera?" The answer was always, "Doh!", "Crap!", "Dangit!" etc. Needless to say we have lots of great pictures, but they are all on other people's cameras. Five years after having Jack as a tiny thing, you tend to forget all the "stuff" that you must bring during outings with a baby. Burpcloths, diapers, a change of clothes, burpcloths, the pacifier, burpcloths, blankets, and burpcloths. (Emma takes after her brother and is a BIG spitter.... hence, we bring burpcloths. Lots of them.) I need to add "camera" into my mental list of things to chuck into the diaper bag, but I haven't yet gotten around to that. Anyway, my real point is that I have a very limited selection of new snapshots to post. But I'll do my best.

This is a photo to capture evidence of a mysterious phenomenon that happens of the evening. Emma gets these weird eyes. We call them "Crazy eyes". The expression seems to be related to bathtime as it only shows up following that event. After I sweep her upstairs and bathe her, ridding her of all the spit-up she's accumulated on her body during the course of the day, she must feel a bit overwhelmed with the activity. Then I hand her over to dad, and we get a big kick out of making fun of her facial expression. You can join in the fun, if you want. This is probably the only time I wouldn't be offended if you said to me, "Hey... what's wrong with your baby?"

Crazy eyes - side view.

They say that what you read or see last seems to stay at the forefront of your mind. It's because of this that I've inserted the above photo. I couldn't leave you with the former images. They're weird. So here's a much sweeter image with which to end. Awwwww... little Emma.

By the way, if you know me fairly well, you know that much of my brainspace is occupied by the collection of dates in history that are not particulary important to me. I don't remember names well, but if you told me your birthday or the date of your last oil change, I may very well remember it. It's because of this that I say a hearty, "Happy Birthday!" today to my 4th grade boyfriend named Mike. I don't remember much about him other than... well, his birthday... and that when he played kickball he always pushed up one leg of his sweatpants. Yeah, I know... wasted brainpower. So I never did get that 30 on the ACT no matter how many times I tried. Instead, I know the exact day that my childhood siamese cats were born. An equal trade, I guess. Good grief.