Winds of change, etc.

So this happened:

And then this:

And this: 

And then this:

This:

This:

I want the video monitor to move to the office when I evict Geneva from my room in a month, but I wanted to be able to spy on Eleanor as she transitions to a Big Girl Bed. 

Last night she sang Rock-a-Bye Baby to herself until she fell asleep. She woke up crying once, like she has been doing probably once a week as long as she's had this cough. When I went to bring her water, I found her sitting in the middle of the room, sad and half-asleep and looking for Snuggles. This morning she sat and waited until I came to let her know it was morning. 'Can I hop down now, from my Big Girl Bed?!' You can. 

GROWING THINGS

Remember when I planted Squash City in a bunch of clay and then a few things died and I was like EAUGH NOTHING WILL GROW THERE IT IS MY OWN PERSONAL GOMORRAH BUT IN THE BARREN LAND WAY NOT THE SEXUAL IMMORALITY WAY THIS METAPHOR HAS GONE OFF THE RAILS. Remember that?

HAHAHA that. Squash City is out of CONTROL and that's only half of it. We've had a couple of patty pans

and a lemon cucumber

and a spaghetti squash that I think I picked too early. Our backyard has been a mosquito gauntlet (you get your garage key out before you leave the house because you can't stop in front of the garage door. You'll die) so I've been sprint-watering it and ignoring it and my tomato plants have kind of become one large plant but I can't get out there long enough to prune them and today we noticed we have PEAS. Like, suddenly: peas.

Look at those. There's arugula in the middle there but I obviously didn't think this through and now I can't get at it. Live and learn. Eleanor never gets tired of going to check out the garden. Eleanor never gets tired of ANYthing. I was thinking the other day about how much I love having young children, and how there's something to be said for five- and eleven- and even fourteen-year-old kids, but two-year-olds are a precious beast.

Sometimes I am wrong about stuff.

I was like, You're putting those on the wrong feet. You won't be able to get them on. You won't be able to walk.

Boy did she ever show me.

Are we having the best life right now?

We are. BBQs with new friends.

Backyard pools with old friends.

Fruit fingers.

Constant picnics.

Bouncy castles at a friend's brother's birthday party (like, we don't even KNOW the guy, but food and bouncy castles, yes).

Pools by our house.

Parks by our house.

Splash pads far away ('This T-Rex is eating my feeties! Narm narm narm.').

Parks far away but we have the car like all the time now because Joel bikes to work.

We are living it up over here. 

Bird beak

Geneva Wren's tongue is too small for her tiny bird mouth. It MUST be, because it is always. out. From just what's on my phone right now:

Exhibit A:

Exhibit B:

Exhibit C:

Exhibit D:

Exhibit E:

Exhibit F:

Rude little fish.

Two months, officially.

Geneva Wren, two months old. Blog post or it didn't happen.

The big news this month is the smiling. MAN, that makes her easier to put up with.

The happy baby noises at your face don't hurt either. And does she ever enjoy a face. Other likes include standing with support and thinking she's doing it on her own and being deranged about it, her mobile, and getting those fists to the mouth.

We had ice cream on her behalf.

Did you want some, Genny Wren?

No? Alright.

A compare from a month ago to now:

Skinny chicken wings ahoy.

Sun's out, guns out.

She's just angry because we didn't get her a cake.

Geneva is 2 months old today and she is celebrating by being heinous. She screamed so long and so hard while I was bagging my groceries that literally every woman who passed tried to do something for her. She was FURIOUS and NOT HAVING IT.

The whole ride home, Geneva was hollering and Eleanor's in the back with her all, This isn't appropriate, Geneva. I don't like that tone of voice. And then singing at her because Eleanor really, really hates it when Geneva is sad.

When all else fails, to the pool.

Brunch for supper. Brupper.

Because Joel is working the 4-midnight shift today,

because I went for a run today

(my second run since Geneva was born. I didn't expect returning to running to be a picnic but yes, I sort of did. Not only is it not a picnic in the way that running is never a picnic, it is grim, plodding, miserable death. But Josie and I have signed up for Color Me Rad in the fall [nope. We have DISCUSSED signing up for it, and Josie's been running 5K on the regular in preparation {I have, as previously mentioned, just started running again}...you know what? Hold on.......Ok NOW I've signed up for Color Me Rad], and I need to keep up to speed)

and because Geneva was just SLEEPING AND SLEEPING and then woke up and was SO DAMN HAPPY,

we had cheese blintzes for supper.

Eleanor was thrilled.

Coping mechanisms

We're settling in to a groove over here (me writing this is going to ruin everything, I know). Geneva wakes up some time around 2 and then again between 5:30 and 6:30 and thinks it's daytime for anywhere from 20 minutes to two hours. I spend that time popping her soother back in her mouth and sleeping for the three minutes until she spits it out again, and threatening to swaddle her.

Eleanor wakes up between 6 and 7, but I don't go get her until 7. We have breakfast, the Wren joins us or she doesn't. Whatever time she wakes up, she's always ready to go back down before we're ready to leave the house, so I put her in her car seat and knock her out and stash her in the office until we're walking out the door.

She sleeps until we get to where we're going, at which point she continues to sleep. Mayyyyyyybe she wakes up before we have to leave, but if not, she sleeps all the way home.

Afternoons involve Eleanor taking long, heavy naps, and me trying talk Geneva into sleeping again (she always does eventually, but sometimes it's an ARGUMENT), and then sitting down with a coffee. Evenings are a complete and utter crapshoot.

Today we went to the splash park, and Geneva Wren woke up and ate just before we left, and then she and I had chats while we walked, and then she slept. The walk home is 45 min to an hour, especially if we make pit stops for pelicans, so the real trick is making sure Eleanor doesn't fall asleep. If I give her two of anything - two flowers, two pinecones, two very long pieces of grass - she will make them have conversations with each other all the way home. I will never get a video of this, because she stops doing it as soon as the stroller stops moving.

The first dozen times we all went to a park together, I would take Geneva out and haul her around and sweat like a hog and not be able to play with Eleanor or enable her newfound danger-zoning. Then we were at the splash park one time and I was chatting with this mom while her two boys zoomed around us and suddenly she looks over to where the blankets and strollers are and goes, Oh, I think my baby is awake. And I was like, You can do that? So now I just park the stroller and if Geneva is still sleeping (she is), I leave her in it and check on her every two minutes.

Josie lent us her Buggy Bubble (hereafter known as the Space Pod), which is a huge improvement on the Draped Blanket Held Up By Task Clips, BOTH because it can't drape itself onto her face and smother her, and air gets in at the mesh sides. Another friend is going to lend us their infant sling (it's like a hammock that goes in your bike trailer) so we can start biking again soon. I bought a mesh wrap online because that is a thing that exists, and now I can wear Geneva in the pool if I have to.

We are finding our way. The weather is certainly helping.