Well, she's gone and done it. Bean is on her way to being one year old. I know her eleven-month birthday was a while ago, but here's some cute pictures and descriptors anyway.
First off, her big milestone of the month is crawling. THE BEAN, SHE CRAWLS. Meaning, portraits this month were much harder than previous months. I'd set her next to the stuffed animal where I wanted her and, BOOM, she was off. It's no longer trying to catch a smile, but just trying to catch her. She also has increased her aversion to the headbands of glory. It's a tough combination.
We did some photos naked:
And some not. Even though naked has been our way of doing things, here in Utah clothes are more necessary more often.
I did find the solution to the headband dilemma. Distraction by Cheerios.
Smiles are overrated anyway.
So, the other big news of the month is that Bean is allergic to tomatoes. It's pretty sad. She loves them. And I love them. And I have no idea how to cook/feed a family without them. We're counting on it being an infant allergy that doesn't last. We'll see.
Also, she can finally frigging sit up from a laying down position all on her own. The crawling gave her that. I'd really given up on it. Sad, right? I really thought she'd be 17 and not able to sit up. Turns out, I was wrong. Phew. But now she can sit up in bed and cry if I try to give her some time to "cry it out." That sucks for both of us.
Another addition is that she can no longer handle being washed. There are many tears after every meal when I wipe her hands and face. Baths are touch-and-go (To use the colloquialism; I'm not speaking literally here. I'm not sure what the literal meaning would be, but it seems sketchy in terms of a baby's bath). She must really love being filthy. Also, I've learned that tortured is in the eye of the tortured.
She still weighs about 20 lbs and is kinda tall, but not really (We haven't taken her to the pediatrician for the official stats. We're trying to maintain our status as "dirty hippies."). Her head seems proportional. She looks less like a baby and more like a little girl every day.
That's it. When she turns one in, like, a minute, I'll tell you more.
Can you just see her asking, "Why are you doing this to me?" Poor kid.
So, it's true. Bean is ten months old. And we left Dominica. And we're settling back into Utah. I keep thinking I will blog my little fingers off, telling you all about our adventures getting home (seriously, it's a funny story. Well, funny/aggravating), and celebrating the sort-of birthday, as well as posting pictures of all that has been going on. BUT, between the settling and the visiting and the having my power cord die, I just am not anywhere near blogging. Maybe I'll tell you soon. Maybe not.
Anyway, she's ten months and some and literally cuter than ever. Regarding percentiles, I'm sure she's 100% in everything, because she seems pretty dang perfect to me (that's what those numbers measure, right?). Hopefully I'll get a picture of when she turns eleven months.
That's right. Ze bebe' is nine months old. Intense, right? She's getting so grown up. For example:
Bean's basic stats are as follows:
Weight: Heavy
Length: Long
Head circumference: Really?
Percentiles: Off the charts, I'm sure.
Can you tell we don't really go to the pediatrician here? Meh. She's fat and happy, so we don't worry about it. She has one tooth that has broken through just barely, and one that will be this side of the gum-line any day now. She is REALLY close to crawling and every day I think she's going to just start going for it, but she's still just a scooter. However, she is an expert scooter and gets around quite well. She often eats (nearly) man-sized portions, but is still nursing with regularity. She is laughing harder and more often every day. She is starting to assert some independence as she tries to get me to stop doing what she doesn't like (such as me trying to wash her arms during her bath. She hates it. Not sure why. Probably because that means she can't grab stuff.). She is very busy and is always exploring and reaching for everything she can. In the bath (read: kitchen sink), she can pull herself up to a vertical kneel (which makes me quite nervous some days), but she still seems to have zero desire to pull herself up on her feet, or put her full weight on them. Ever. She babbles all day long. She sleeps through the night, except for when she doesn't feel like it (teething has been a little tough). She has some serious stranger anxiety and cries if someone new comes into our house and I'm not holding her. She also cries (screams?) when anyone other than me or Wonderman holds her. Still, in my arms she is quite the flirt and loves to interact with other people, especially other children (and especially when they should be being quiet during church. Oops).
Oh, and here's a major milestone for this month: She had her fist kiss!!!!! Our friend's little boy was quite entranced with Bean and kissed her - twice! - one day when we were hanging out. He kissed her cheek and her forehead. It was sweet and adorable. He's even an older man - two years old! We're going to have to keep our eye on our little charmer.
While we are very excited to get back to the states, and all that entails (TWENTY SIX DAYS!!!), there are some sad bits, too. I am very excited to eat berries. Berries of all kinds. I really love berries. I can't wait to introduce Bean to berries and berries to Bean. However, it is more than a little sad that she is getting to love food like mango (and starfruit and pineapple and bananas [yes, they are better here]) so much, and realistically she may never again have the chance to eat so much (or such) delicious mango in her life.
It is protocol, isn't it, to list the adorable things a baby is doing currently, when posting about their birthdays? And, alas, I did no such thing. I will blame it on my fevered state. I was today diagnosed with Strep throat, which makes me feel like a kid again, but last night I was just sitting on the couch with the thought "If I don't post about Bean's eight-month mark now, I never will." So you got some pictures, but no info. I know you are waiting on the edge of your seat, so here goes:
Bean has a grand total of zero teeth so far.
She still sits up like awesome when I set her down, but has yet to get herself there (Although, the other day I saw her go down and then I looked over and she was back up, but she did have the help of a pillow behind her. Still, I consider it a big step).
She talks ALL THE TIME. She says "Momma" and "Dadda" with regularity, but seems to have no comprehension what those sounds represent. The talking gets especially interesting in church. She has no concept of being reverent. The other day she even started her high-pitched squealing when we started to sing the closing hymn. Maybe she was just trying to participate. I had a hard time not laughing. Ok, so I broke down laughing, which is a big deal. Singing is, like, my favorite part of church.
She is eating all kinds of solid food, and enjoying every minute of it. She is particularly fond of bananas, honeydew, crackers, and prunes (!).
Her most recent milestone is that she now smiles and sometimes even laughs when I pull funny faces. This is quite the boon, since that is one of my main modes of communication.
She is not crawling, per se, but is definitely mobile. She loves to get under things (things like beds and chairs), but can't always get back out. She hits her head sometimes and then realizes she is stuck. That is where the crying starts. She is starting to do the "lean-really-far-forward-until-her-tummy-is-on-the-floor" thing, which I hear is the precursor to crawling, so I think we're getting somewhere.
Nothing gets her more excited than when Wonderman comes home. Nothing. It's awesome to watch. It might make me a little jealous sometimes. He says it will be the same if I ever leave, but since I have yet to leave her for more than twenty minutes at a time (to shower, and only that long on hair-washing days), I have yet to see it.
She listens to stories very well. For a little while. She still tries to eat books sometimes too.
She has a finger puppet book (you know, with a finger puppet that pokes through every page?), which she loves. She has recently figured out the finger part of the puppet. Every time Wonderman reads it to her, she listens to the page being read, then turns the book over to see where his finger is going in the back and then she tries to put her finger in as well. Adorable, I tell you.
She weighs 19 pounds, and is carrying about 75% of that in her thighs - LOVE them!
When she gets excited, or is happy for any reason, she flaps her arms with joy. I think it's an almost-clap. We'll see how long until she gets there. We're working on the wave, but she has yet to give any indication that she has a desire at all to wave.
She has finally started to appreciate the noise-making component of the rattle I bought her when she was about two days old (I know, what was I doing at Target two days [maybe three] after giving birth?). It still goes in her mouth sometimes, but more often than not she shakes it and smiles. That's gratifying.
Her hair is getting long enough that it tufts out over her ears and makes her look a little bit rag-a-muffin-y. The new length is also making her double cowlick on the back of her head extra adventure-y (read: ridiculous).
That's pretty much all I can think of right now. Here's a cute picture of her, not taken exactly on her 8-month birthday, just because I know that will make the post that much more fun.
Conclusion: I love this kid more every day. That's 243 times a lot.
In German it sounds like a sneeze, which is appropriate for someone who sneezes as much as she does. Bean is eight months old. That means we've kept her alive for eight months. I've been a momma for eight months. We are officially closer to one year than zero years. It is pretty awesome.
I know that the cute thing to do is to dress your baby up in an adorable outfit for their "birthday" photo shoot. However, we don't really "do" clothes around here. Meh. She is adorable nonetheless. Or maybe more.
We tried to at least add a cute headband flower thing.
That didn't last very long.
Having a distraction helped with the headband-ing, but not the photo-ing.
Can you see her arms flapping with joy? She is excited to be so grown up.
We also tried a faux-hawk. It was pretty great, for the two minutes that it lasted. This is also the necessary "picture by the same stuffed animal every month so you can see how big she really is" photo.
And this one is just cool perspective to show you how cool she is. Obviously very cool.
Conclusion: Being momma to this Bean is the coolest thing I've ever done, and I've done a lot of cool stuff.
A couple weeks ago, we got to go to one of the most beautiful beaches on the island with - get this - WONDERMAN. It's true, things are a bit less insane once fourth semester is over. We love that aspect of things. LOVE it.
So, the beach is called Batibou Bay. We quickly found ourselves looking forward to what sounded like the title of a Hardy Boys novel - The Mystery of the Baby at Batibou Bay. It has a ring to it, eh?
Anyway, I'd heard it was amazing, but somehow never gotten to this particular beach. Our friend, M, simply could not fathom how long we've been here without going. It's hard to explain the logistics of working and then being pregnant and simple inertia culminating in me not going to all the lovely places there are to see here. I am so grateful I got to come back and that Bean got to see it, too.
It is pretty stellar, as beaches go.
And surprisingly un-hot. Maybe the copious shade is an indicator, but I was still surprised.
It really is the perfect beach. Sun, shade, sand, enough waves to be fun, not so much that it's ever (well, while we were there, I'm sure it has its moments) scary. We could've spent hours and hours more there than we did.
Bean got some sweet Daddy Time:
And got sand in every crevice, not the least of which were fat rolls (delicious!):
She tried to eat a sandy leaf. Wonderman tried to stop her:
And then I let her do whatever she wanted (I've tried to explain to Wonderman my philosophies on the importance of children being allowed to explore, and even eat dirt, but he's not buying it. Still, I'm the one around and in charge most of the time, so eat dirt she will, if she pleases, and she certainly did please.):
She also got to eat some bananas. We're still working on technique.
She took a nap on the beach.
We found a leaf the size of Bean. Well, bigger than Bean, really. BTB, if you want the official term.
All in all, it was a great family outing.
Conclusion: Solving mysteries is rad. All the cool kids are doing it. The Hardy Boys are totally coming back.
It's true, I haven't posted in a bit. Meh. We're still here, living and loving it up in Dominica. Wonderman started his fifth semester yesterday. There are things that make me anxious for these eleven weeks to hurry by (can you say "heat rash?"), but generally I'm already getting pretty sad that we'll be leaving, most likely forever, Dominica so soon.
On a more important note (I may catch up later, but we're going to start with current news), today is Bean's SEVEN MONTH BIRTHDAY! We are having tons of fun. She is getting bigger and cuter and more fun every day. She is a pro roller and she's getting really good at staying upright when I sit her up, but she has yet to find that sitting position on her own. She is toothless, but I can't say that I mind. She is loving solid food and thriving in the warm weather. I have to admit I already wonder how I will function if I have babies that I can't just leave naked when it's convenient, because it's too cold. Especially as she begins eating, naked is MUCH easier. Maybe Alaska really is out of the question. Sigh.
Anyway, here's a naked picture of her and her daddy (only Bean is naked, don't worry) at exactly seven months:
I know, she's a little weird-out-of-focus, but it's by far the cutest one we got today. Gosh, I love that kid! And her daddy!
Conclusion: Seize the pineapple! Celebrate the day!
I remember hearing once that only a baby can turn a group of intelligent adults into a room full of babbling idiots. As Wonderman and I are finding things that make Bean laugh, I see that it's true. We will do ANYTHING to hear that sweet sound. But then, who wouldn't?
This is her reaction to a bouncing ball. Who knew that was so funny?
ps - Wonderman and I both also quite like the end when she decides she's ready to move on to another amusement. Marked and Hilar.
Bean seems to be having tendencies like her momma, i.e. she is a devourer of books:
Conclusion: It may be tough someday to pry her away from a good book to clean her room, but it's a risk I'm willing to take.
I may have mentioned once or twice that life in Dominica is different than life in the United States. Yeah, yeah, it's an island, it's surrounded by water, it's hot and steamy, it's a third world country, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. What it really comes down to is stuff. Americans have lots of stuff. And we like being able to buy more stuff. We also tend to buy stuff that moonlights as food (aka processed food that makes cooking simple-de-dimple). We are generally very stuff-y, we Americans. Where life on the island gets tricky is in the lack of stuff. All things American are, quite understandably, imported. This cuts down on the variety and availability of stuff, while significantly augmenting the price. It would make sense for us to live on locally produced food while we are here (or really anywhere, since apparently eating locally is more important than eating organically [except for this article I read that talked about how to feed that trend local farms are going to all kinds of crazy lengths to produce things that are not native to their climate, which requires treatments that negate all the positives of eating locally so you have to eat not just locally, but what should normally grow locally, not oranges grown in Idaho or something crazy like that]). But we don't always.
One thing that is an interesting issue is jam. The local jam can be good; it can also be weird. Guava and pineapple are definitely more common than grape or strawberry. However, sometimes grape and strawberry can be found. They are generally quite expensive, not the brand we would normally buy, and full of sugar and/or (gasp) high fructose corn syrup (absolutely not good for you). We buy it and eat it anyway.
Last Saturday brought an important campus event - The Fourth Semester Sale. This is where students leaving the island sell off all the stuff they brought with them that they aren't taking back to the states. I love buying food at this sale. There is always some awesome stuff there that you just can't get anywhere else (like chili seasoning mix [I didn't even know it existed], thanks Sindy!). One especially good find this time around was a jar of strawberry rhubarb jam made with sugar (not corn syrup), and not too much of it at all. I was thrilled. It cost us 8 EC, which is about $3 USD. I love rhubarb pie, and had to assume the jam would be just as delightful. I am salivating just thinking about it.
The next day, during breakfast, I got the jam out to look at it lovingly, read its label, and ponder how it should be eaten. Bean was perched in her little chair (that I LOVE, what a great purchase), grabbing at things, as she is wont to do. Her reach increases daily, as does her ability and strength. However, she also spends quite a bit of time just patting anything and everything she can reach, with great gusto. The idea seems to be, if you can't grab, pat. Pat may be too soft of a word. Slap? Smack? Bang? You get the idea. At times she reaches for things that are not particularly baby-friendly, but that are unfortunately baby-appealing (it's a cruel, cruel world). The jar of jam was one of those things. I put it next to her thinking, "Ah, she can enjoy the patting of it and I will keep an eye/hand on it to keep it safe." Have I mentioned it was a glass jar? Yeah. The wildly swinging mitts of Bean were too quick for me. I swear I actually had my hand on the jar and she somehow knocked it backwards off the counter (yes, I put her little chair on the counter, and yes I swear it's solid). I reached just as wildly, but too late. I saw, gratefully (well, hopefully), that it was going to hit the couch that is right behind the counter. Not only is the couch softer than our tile floor, it was also piled with laundry (who would've ever thought that my laziness could be a blessing?). If it hit the couch and rested, all would be well and Momma would've learned a lesson painlessly. But that's not how lessons go, is it? It did hit the couch. And it bounced. And broke open on our tile floor. It had never even been opened. I'll be honest, I considered tasting the bit that was on top and I could tell wouldn't have any glass or floor-dirt contamination. I refrained, but very sadly. The jam is gone. Now we are left with nothing. And I just made bread, too.
Conclusion: The edge of the cliff really is as dangerous as your seminary teacher told you.
We took Bean to Roseau. It's a trip of about 30 miles that takes an hour. In a crowded van. I was a little worried about it. She was a real trooper (unlike the fictional troopers of Star Wars fame) and traveled quietly and happily. She passed out on the way home. We got a picture the only way we can these days - with the video camera. The video actually gives you an idea of what the ride is like. It may even give you motion sickness. It's still adorable.
Before you ask, no she is not in a car seat, just my lap. Carseats are not really an option around here, at least not with the public transport system. She is protected by my lovin' arms and angels. Lots of prayer goes into it, you know?
Conclusion: When high-risk activity is the norm, it seems safe, but it's still high-risk.
First of all, I fully intended to update everyone and let you know that, despite her early promise, Bean has not yet rolled over. However, today SHE DID IT. That, or some boogey man came and put her on her tummy when I wasn't looking. We have a number of videos of her almost rolling over, but I missed all three times that she actually rolled over, so of course there are no pictures of any kind. Sigh. Alas. The third time was the saddest. She rolled from her back to her tummy and she hasn't yet figured out how to go back to her back. When I put her in her crib tonight, she almost immediately rolled over and went to sleep. Adorable, aside from my neurotic concerns about SIDS. Then, just a couple hours later, I heard her screaming. When I went in, she was throwing her arm back with as much force as she could, but she couldn't seem to roll to her back. We've got some work to do, I guess, so we can all continue sleeping well.
Second update: Turns out that Bean was not playing with that spinning-tree-rattle-thing. She just hadn't figured out how to eat it yet. I don't know if she got more reach, more hand-eye coordination, or just more time, but she now grabs it and chews on it much more than she spins and rattles it. She even once pulled it off the tray, and it's a pretty strong suction cup. That's my girl.
(This is where the beginning of the videos really comes in. We think she's adorable. You don't have to. I understand. But her grandma might want to see this. Plus, our still-shot camera died [sniff!], so this is all we got.)
(Can I also comment on my video-voice [not that it's in this video, but the use of the new technology has really brought it to my attention]? So, everyone sounds different in their heads, and everyone knows that, right? Right. Hearing yourself in any recording is WEIRD. Um, mine is, like, twenty times weirder when I'm talking to Bean. It's not even like a cute, sing-songy mommy voice. It's just weird. Not sure why. She may grow up weird. If you stick around, I'm sure I'll post a video that has my Bean voice on it. Weird.)
Conclusion: Time and determination accomplish much that at first may seem impossible.
Have you heard of Carnival? Do you have any idea what it's like? Let me 'splain. Ok, so I've experienced three Carnival seasons, but one was spelled Carnaval, so it's different. None of the three have I actively participated in, so maybe my descriptions and views are skewed by my general innocence and/or prudish-ness.
My first season was in Portugal. That's the one with the weird spelling, cuz, you know, it's written in Portuguese. I was serving my LDS mission in northern Portugal. It seemed mostly like a cute parade with Halloween costumes. The end. Maybe I missed the real fun, since I was busy proselyting and stuff. Still, it wasn't anything so crazy it really seemed like it interfered with my life, unlike a friend of mine who served a mission in Brazil and had to spend two weeks inside his apartment in order to avoid all the rampant sinning. Portugal was no biggie.
My second season was last year in Dominica. We were already into the middle of the Carnival season before I realized what exactly was going on. Wonderman and I could not figure out why there was such a constant stream of pounding music night after night (the downfall of living on the main road, close to the city center). I don't remember how we figured it out. I do remember cursing it nightly. I also remember waking up one night in the middle of the night (well, around 3 am) to music louder than I had ever before imagined in my entire life. The pounding bass was so loud I could literally feel it in my bones. It was loud. Wonderman had a test the next day. He was not happy. We got out of bed to see what was going on. We saw a semi truck with the trailer stacked completely full with speakers, driving (read "creeping") down the road in front of our house. There were also flashing lights to make it even harder to sleep through. Following the truck of speakers was a crowd of people dancing (read "stumbling") behind. Maybe their movement was such because of the speed (read: "lack of speed") of the truck. Maybe it was because of the ungodly hour. Maybe it was alcoholic impairment. Maybe it was all of these things. It looked lame. After much grumbling, we returned to bed to toss and turn. Thankfully, that was essentially the end of the season.
Here's a video I took of the parade this afternoon. I think it was all students from Ross. Maybe it's just the university's attempt to make students feel like they're participating, without them having to be awake at 3 am. I don't know. It wasn't nearly as loud, so Bean and I went out and watched it. She seemed to like the music and the colors. Most importantly, you can see at the head of the parade the insanely large conglomeration of speakers. The afternoon parade was loud, but still probably four times less loud than it was this morning/last night. This is not a particularly exciting video, but it's 24 seconds of an interesting bit of culture. Sorry that I didn't get out there at 3 am to get the real thing.
And now, as I write this, I can hear some pounding music, but at enough of a distance that is bothers me barely at all. I don't think I have ever been so aware of or so excited for Ash Wednesday. I will say that I went into town on Saturday and got a taste of the celebration in the air and thought for a minute or two that it might be fun to check out what Carnival was like, even if I don't drink. I may have been influenced by the really pretty masks I saw for sale. Maybe. Anyway, Ash Wednesday will be here soon, soon. I may never be so aware of it again in my life. And I'm ok with that.
Conclusion: It came to pass.
ps - It's strange, I didn't grow up in a culture where Carnival (or Mardi Gras, or even Lent for that matter) was a part of life at all. Still, I feel like I have a pretty good general understanding of the history of it. Or I thought I did until this afternoon when my neighbor, Chris (she's Dominican by heritage, but spent most of her adult life in England, still she understands and is part of the culture here - way more than me), was lamenting the continued celebration of Carnival. She said it heralds back to the days of slavery where slave "owners" would allow only one day for slaves to take time off and celebrate. She said the costumes' origin was in how the slaves dressed up like their "masters" and their concubines. I had to agree that maintaining any tradition connected to slavery is lamentable. I was confused, however, since my understanding of Carnival connects it much more to Catholicism than to slavery. She should know though, so I accepted. Until, of course, I checked on Wikipedia (the source of all light and truth). Wiki made no mention of Carnival's connection to slavery. In fact, it seemed to be very much a European tradition that connects to other pagan, pre-Christian rituals. I'm led to doubt Chris. I'm curious where her understanding of it comes from. What do you think I should believe?
Another big deal is toys. Bean is becoming ever more aware of toys. Our neighbor gave us this awesome spinning rattle toy that is anchored with suction. Her baby was not interested. Bean loves it. Before this toy, she would "play" with things by doing her best to find a place where she could grip it and then bring it to her mouth, at which point she would slobber on it until she found a place small enough to chew, then chewing madly until her grip failed (ok, so she still does this with everything else). Perhaps that is all she would do with this contraption if she could get it to her mouth. Probably. Still, she can't, so it at least appears as if she is finally playing for the sake of play. It's a delight.
And here she is, leaning back so I can get a good shot of her sweet new gear:
Conclusion: It's vital to make time in every day to play.
This was taken Saturday night. I was so sure she'd be rolling over the next day. Alas, still no. She does love to roll up onto her side and just sit there, though. I keep waiting for her to lean forward just enough that she falls onto her tummy in a bit of surprise (is it bad that I've thought multiple times about just giving her a tiny nudge?). We'll see. Until then, I will just enjoy the cute naked pictures for what they are - adorableness personified.
Conclusion: Running (or rolling) faster than we are able does no one any good, but patience while waiting for more running (or rolling) can be tough.
A week ago Saturday it was cold in the morning. Perhaps it's been cold in the mornings before, but I used to sleep through the cold part and wake up when the sun was shining and cold was far from my mind. Bean has helped me to develop at least half of the "early to bed, early to rise" habit, however. I was sitting on the bed in my next-to-nuthins (which is what I spend most every night and therefore early morning in) and I was cold. I'd put Bean to bed in merely a diaper, so I assumed she was probably a bit chilly as well. Out came the sweatshirts and fleece (I was so glad she still fit in the adorable warm traveling outfit we bought just for the trip down here. It was so cute and one wear just didn't seem like it was enough).
It wasn't until later that I realized that perhaps the more logical step would've been to simply close the windows, instead of bundling up. But you just don't do that in Dominica. Windows are meant to be open, right? Anyway, it was kind of fun to snuggle up.
Conclusion: Sometimes logical solutions aren't as much fun.
And, of course, it's necessary to have the monthly photo next to a stuffed animal, to show her relative size. I haven't done it for the first three months, so I suck a little. But here she is next to Ralph, the rattle cow. You'll see him show up many times in the future, I expect.
Conclusion: Time really does fly when you're having fun.
ps - These photos are actually from Valentine's Day, which was three days before she hit three months. The next few days were a little crazy though, as we started working on naps with more focus and neither of us felt much up to pictures. So these will have to do. Also, we weighed her up on campus and she weighs around 15 lbs (no digital infant scales here, sigh). And according to our tape measure she is nearly 24 inches long. Needless to say, her percentiles are a mystery to me. She's healthy and happy. That is all.
Can I just start by saying black sand gets everywhere? Instantly. You think I'm joking. I'm not. I swear, within seconds of getting to the beach, Bean had black sand in literally every crevice and fat fold on her body. Adorable? Maybe a little. Annoying? Maybe a lot. The paste that was created in her elbow pit as the sand mixed with the sunscreen was pretty funny, though. I only wish my fat folds were as cute as hers.
Bean wasn't too sure what to think about the beach. She liked us putting the sunscreen on (guess we need to do more baby massage), but she seemed uncomfortable with the sand idea. Then Wonderman took her into the sea. There was more skepticism, which was followed quickly by some crying. We think the moving water was a little too much to start with. We had never even taken her to the pool. So, we retraced our steps and took her to the pool.
It looks kind of idyllic, eh?
She liked that a little better, but withheld judgment until a few days later, at which point she decided she loved it. I can see a lot of pool trips in her future.
Conclusion: Baby steps really are the best way to begin.
ps - Can I do a ps after the conclusion? I would just like to point out that Wonderman and Bean have the exact same color of skin. Have I told you about the CNA at the hospital when Bean was born who told me that my daughter looked nothing like me? She looked like her dad, but not me. Who tells a woman who has been a mom for all of 24 hours a thing like that? As I see pictures of her with me and we look almost like we're different races and then she has pictures like this with her dad, I have to accept that maybe we don't look exactly alike. Sigh.
