Things are getting more fun around here. The babe is starting to get that curious pucker of the lips, the excited glint in the eye, the thoughtful furrow between the eyebrows–small indications that she’s actually internalizing new experiences, and she thinks they’re totally rad!
We took our first real road trip down to Virginia this weekend post-Thanksgiving for my 10-year high school reunion and the baptism of one of Aurelia’s best friends (so what if they just met this weekend) and John’s Goddaughter. Somewhere in Maryland, we stopped at a Starbucks for lattes and a quit diaper change. Normally we carry A around in her covered carseat to avoid losing too much heat. This time we just ran the 15 yards from car to coffee and back with her tucked into our coats. As we were running back, a gust of air made the hair on the back of her head whip upward, and this hilarious expression came across her face. It’s hard to describe, but it was definitely not one of fright, discomfort, or any negative emotion, more something like: “What the…what??! Wind???! Huh! That’s not at all unpleasant. I don’t know what I feel!”
And then, what do you do when you stay in a home that doesn’t have a baby bath and the kitchen sink is in use? Well, you take a shower…the three of you. Game plan: I was to get in the shower first and get myself clean while John undressed our girl. Then he was to get in with her, hold her while I sudsed her up and rinsed her off, and then shower himself while I exited the shower with a freshly cleaned Aurelia. Of course, while I was in the shower and John and Aurelia already undressing in the steamy, closet-sized bathroom, we remembered that we forgot to check her diaper, which naturally was heavy with mustard-colored poop. At six weeks into parenthood, I’m used to being covered in vomit, feces, urine, or some combination, so I told John to just hand her over. I then proceeded to hold my daughter’s bum right underneath the shower faucet. And she loved that shit! The three of us managed to stay clean for a good 5+ minutes until my darling daughter spit up curdled milk from a feeding two hours prior.
Rediscovering the coolness of rotating leaves and animals in her swing: