Adventures and Discoveries by Heather Bowles
It’s been an exceedingly hectic week, as you can probably tell. Usually, my Saturday posts come in the early mornings, when all is quiet in our home and I get a few minutes to reflect on everything we’ve been through and all the enjoyment of the past seven days. This week, however, has been a non-stop roller coaster of additional misadventures added to an already full calendar. After moving into the new place, I was so excited to unpack, and for the baby to have her own room, that I completely forgot to pay the rent. Making our home safe for Tabitha before she starts to crawl has occupied my every waking thought, so even though the check was made out and tacked to the refrigerator door since well before the due date, it’s delivery was overlooked. I’m not sure our landlord believed me when I told her the money had been set aside two weeks ago. And then yesterday, the windshield wipers quit on my car, in the middle of a rainstorm… with the baby in the car! This will be our 3rd time replacing that motor. I think it might be time to find a new mechanic.
Now that the nursery is mostly set up, we decided to try to lay the baby down to sleep in her own room at night. When I say “we”, I really mean my husband decided, and I went along with it. She turned 5 months old this week, and I find myself unready to let go of her even as much as putting her in another room at night. What if she cries and I don’t hear her? What if she’s cold? WHAT IF SHE NEEDS ME??? It’s all very irrational, I know, but I’ve grown accustomed to assuaging those moments of waking panic in the middle of the night by sitting bolt upright in bed, checking the rise and fall of her little chest, murmuring an “I love you” that she’s too asleep to hear, and going back to sleep. She slept like a champ the first night, staying her own crib with no complaint for 10 straight hours. I was not so lucky. I tossed and turned, and went to peek in on her about seventeen thousand times. Of course she was okay, and I woke her up before she had a chance to cry to feed her breakfast. Since that night, she hasn’t tolerated being alone, and secretly, or maybe not so secretly, I’m relieved that she doesn’t want to transition smoothly yet. The time will come soon, I know, but I’m happy to let her struggle with it. I’m struggling with it too.
She’s started her first solid foods, too. I’m not even sure you can call green beans that are only recognizable by their smell because they’ve been pureed to oblivion solid, but she’s eating it. And lastly, she’s learned to remove her diapers on her own. It makes me grateful that winter is coming on, and the heat of summer is finally beginning to fade. I can now clothe her even indoors without worrying about her overheating, which is good, because her onesies are our last line of defense against her being constantly naked and making a holy mess all day every day. It might be time to trade in the velcro diapers for snaps soon.
Here’s to another week full of smiles, belly laughs, love and learning as we go. Cheers!