Pediatrician visit!

We celebrated Kalina's 2-month birthday today with a trip to the pediatrician for shots. Joy. We learned that she's a lot like her mother: tough as a cream puff when it comes to vaccinations of any kind.

The visit started with a weight check. Kalina still eats about every 2 hours (start to start) during the day, so I expected her to be over 10 pounds (or, truthfully, closer to 80). Nope--9 lbs, 12 ounces. It's a very good weight gain, though, and it puts her into the 25th percentile (up from 10% a month or so ago). Her head circumference is also nicely in the 25th percentile (Matt commented that he's glad she's proportional), and her length is 22 5/8 (up from 21 inches last month), which is the 50th percentile. Despite the rolls of baby fat I see growing on her, she's still a tall, skinny baby!

We asked about a little red mark on her shoulder. It's a birth mark! This mark will probably fade after a year or so, or else we can have it removed in a cosmetic laser surgery. We didn't ask if we could have it removed sooner, because we don't want our baby to be vain (which doesn't stop me from dressing her in the cutest clothes possible).

We then thoroughly discussed vaccinations. The latest fad in child-rearing is to opt out of them. Matt thinks this is bull, but he and the doctor still managed to go over the ins and outs of everything that goes into vaccines and the science behind them to reassure everyone in the room, while I tried to keep the baby as happy as possible before she got them. Although neither Kalina nor I understood half of what was said, it made for a very educational doctor visit.

And then it was time. Poor baby! We told her how brave she is and then let the doctor do his work.

The doctor commented that Kalina is the first baby he'd seen cry about the oral vaccine, so we knew we were in for it with the shots. Three Band-Aids later and our daughter was purple faced and screaming so vigorously no noise was coming out. Poor thing! Matt said it was a good thing I had my eyes closed the whole time, and that there's no doubt she's my child.

On checking out, we received two large bags of formula samples, and a prime appointment time for her next visit. It pays to be on good terms with the receptionist.

Kalina's next visit is in two months. We hope she forgives us by then.

I'm a fan (and she is, too)

One of the most special things about a new mommy and her baby is that were they competing in a game of football, each would cheer for the other side.

I've learned the past couple weeks, sometimes, admittedly, to my dismay, that I'm undoubtedly Kalina's favorite person. "How sweet!" kindly exclaim the sentimentalists who are then able to go about their daily lives, showered and without backaches that never end.

"How sweet!" I agree as long as I'm fed, watered, clean, comfortable and relatively well entertained (i.e., a magazine) and have an empty bladder. Seeing as I'm about ready to buy Target out of Advil and adult diapers, those things don't happen very often, especially all at once.

Actually, it really is sweet in theory and I know I'll greatly miss the days when although I have to contort myself to make her comfortable and then hold the position for a decade to keep her asleep, a cute little baby is cuddled happily in my arms. Truly, I will.

But is it bad if I say she's a bit clingy? Am I really that cool? New-motherhood certainly has its ego boosts.

At the same time, this apparent compliment is coming from a being who blows spit bubbles (and not even cool big ones) and has just barely begun to realize she has hands, let alone a pancreas. Should I truly be honored?

And then there's the other side of things. "Mom, do I really need dozens of pink onesies with cute prints and pictures on them? And why did you decorate my room when I don't even care while yours still looks a tiny bit like Wal-Mart's back storage area? What gives?"

I admit, I'm as enchanted with Kalina as she seems to be with me. Especially when she has a pink cupcake embroidered on her outfit. How sweet!

Her attachment isn't entirely crippling. For instance, I can bend down about as far as I could when I was 8 1/2 months pregnant while I'm holding her, and I've learned how to do the following activities one-handed:
-Fasten twist-ties
-Make a sandwich
-Do a complete load of laundry (minus folding)
-Eat a full meal
-Feed the cats
-Retrieve and sort through mail
-Type

And it can actually be useful, too. "I couldn't possibly take out the trash. You wouldn't want me to spill it on the baby, would you?" Plus, if it were winter, I'd enjoy the extra warmth.

So as long as Kalina doesn't mind if I haven't showered, I think we'll do okay. She's cute, she seems to like me, and I don't need my left arm, anyway.

Kalina's world

Every morning when Kalina wakes up, her window smiles at her. She smiles back, a huge grin that'll probably be the biggest of the day.

As she's unswaddled, she watches 2 lambs, 2 bunnies and a chicky perform a special dance set to Braham's Lullaby in her honor. She's entranced.

During diaper time, a small stuffed pig rattles his happiness at seeing her. She almost reaches out to touch him as he jubilantly bounces in front of her, rattling the whole time.

Playtime lets Kalina enjoy several of her best friends. Lamb Rattle kisses her on the cheek. Blue Rattle begs for her attention, just wanting to be held. And Yellow Lion, one of her dearest and oldest friends, simply waits patiently by, hoping to catch her eye. Fireplace holds her gaze the longest and captures a few grins.

She's wheeled around like a princess during morning walk, but she surveys her territory only briefly before dozing off for a while.

Naps and feedings later, it's time for more playtime. Kalina is carried around to various points of interest, including Picture Wall and Refrigerator, where she says hello with gentle coos to friends and family, and Aquarium, where nine fish (we counted) parade back and forth for her pleasure.

During her early evening stroller ride, she admires the beauty of the trees against the sky and is glad they're there.

Later in the evening, Lamp catches Kalina's gaze. She hasn't noticed Lamp much before now today, but is happy to see him. She stares and smiles.

Tucked safely in her crib for the night, a stuffed sheep sings her to sleep with soothing sounds. Another day has come and gone.

Kalina knows that the entire world is happy she's here, and that she was welcome even before she arrived.

Why I'm a terrible mom

There are often crumbs on my baby because I eat over her. I'm pretty sure I've accidentally pinched her during diaper changes and that's why she's screamed so much (I've since been more careful and the screaming has mostly stopped). I've started using burp rags as my own personal napkins because we always have them around and they're so convenient.

One time I even caught her delicate skin in a snap as I was changing her diaper. She'd already been shrieking and she took it up a notch. I now knew she had a reason for the screams other than "my tummy isn't quite full."

I also occasionally buy ice cream instead of putting the money directly into her college fund, and I dress her in cute outfits simply because I want to see her in them, even though she screams every single time.

Yet sometimes I avoid changing her outfit, even if it reeks a bit from spit-up, simply because I don't want to hear her screams, or make her upset.

Sometimes I avoid changing her diaper when I know Matt will be home from work soon so I can hand her off "to Daddy to play!" (with a bright smile, as if it should be an honor to play with her, which it is of course) and then offhandedly mention that, by the way, she could probably use a diaper change.

When I'm carrying her, even though I know she's perfectly safe, sometimes she gets a freaked-out look on her face, as if she thinks she's off balance and is going to be dropped. I can see it in her eyes and it's unmistakable. Her arms even flail as if trying to keep her from falling or to be ready to catch her if she does.

When she spits up on me, my first instinct is to wipe it off my clothes first, then hers and then her face. After all, it's easier to clean skin than clothes and she'll grow out of hers before I'm done with mine.

If I could bribe her to reinstate her long afternoon nap, I would in a heartbeat.

Sometimes I throw her toys at the cats when they're misbehaving and I can't get to them.

Then there was the time that I caught some kind of chill and couldn't get warm no matter what I did. Thinking Kalina must be cold, too ("boy, it's cold in here!") I bundled her up in layer upon layer until she was red and practically sweating.

Yup, Kalina's destined to avoid me as a teenager.

The ironic thing is that in the skin-in-snap incident, as in others, she found herself wanting to be comforted by the very person who had inflicted the pain on her. Is she in an abusive relationship? Should she seek help?

I think there's a reason children don't remember much before age 3.

My little shopper

One of the reasons I was excited about having a girl was because she'd be a built-in shopping buddy. I planned to begin programming her as such early on, so that even if Matt turned her into a little fisher girl, she'd still have happy shopping associations and therefore continue the sport through adulthood. To this end, I wouldn't think twice about bribing her with new toys on any occasion.

However, I think I got more than I bargained for. A box arrived at our house the other day containing a Bumper Jumper--a toy we've heard is extremely fun for young babies. The only name on it was Kalina Lynn. Is she already shopping? And buying herself presents? What a whiz kid!

I envision her helping me redecorate the living room by the time she's 2. Or even helping me fill out my post-pregnancy wardrobe. What a perfect thing to be a child prodigy in! Much more useful than, say, chess or quantum physics. We have lots of fun in store.

Or...did you help Kalina order a present? If so, I would love to send you a thank-you note--I'm just not sure who to address it to! Please let me know!

Smiles

From the Mona Lisa to Bozo the Clown, famous smiles have always intrigued us. Are they smiling from happiness or sad irony? Is the smile fleeting or enduring? In the newest smiling celebrity's case, our very own Kalina, is it a true smile or is it just gas?

Anyone who tells a new mom that her baby's smile is just gas should be excommunicated until the child's first birthday, and then forced to dress up as a clown for the baby's entertainment. So I trust all of you will zip your lips when I tell you that I'm pretty sure Kalina first smiled at me when she was about 2 1/2 weeks old. And many are wide-mouthed, adorable, unmistakable grins.

The pediatrician said she won't display her first real smiles until about 8 weeks of age, but he also told me I should start adjusting her eating schedule to fit my lifestyle. He obviously hasn't met my baby. Smiling away for the past few weeks, she has adamantly refused to adjust anything, let alone her eating schedule, for my convenience. You win some, you lose some I guess.

One way I know they're real is that she still smiles almost exclusively for me: they're not all random. I won't expound on how thrilled I am to be singled out in this way, but I will say that they factor largely in the "it's worth it" agreement between miserable pregnant/laboring women and the general public. And apparently Kalina knows which side her bread is buttered on.

She's started to smile a bit at Matt as well, but still usually just stares wide-eyed and entranced as he does the only thing he possibly can to entertain her (usually so Mommy can run to the restroom because she's needed to go since 2:30 and it's now 6:00): weird mouth noises and funny dances.

Which brings us the point that once Baby has let on that she is willing and able to smile, the magnetic desire to make her do so leads a normally civilized, professional and reserved person to do the strangest things. Usually to a 1-person audience of blank stares. What, Baby, did Mommy not make the funny noise quite the right way? Did she not cross her eyes quite enough? Baby's quite the critic.

Why can't she just smile because I rescued her from a smelly diaper? Probably for the same reason she won't smile when I make her eat broccoli. Ice-cream, I'm told, is just much better. As are ridiculous faces and strange sounds.

Hopefully you all will be graced with a smile soon. Kalina and I can't wait to see what outrageous stunt you'll have to do to make that happen.