Lydia Log: Day 29

Why not...

Miss Lydia is: normal. She's in approximately the 50th percentile in both height (length) and head diameter, and somewhere around the 30th percentile in weight, which I guess could be expected given her parents' size. She's getting bigger all the time, albeit at a rate so slow we can't really tell, but everyone else seems to think it is obvious and dramatic. Her lungs are getting noticeably stronger everyday as well, and when she looks at you, it seems as though she is actually looking at you, instead of just past you. Neat. Pretty much everything else is as our stacks of baby books say they should be, and only partially contradicted by the new family doctor. And her cuteness quotient continues to increase.

It's about 2:00 here on Day 29, and both Mom and baby are asleep after a long night of restlessness and the braying, grunting and squealing of what may have been a barnyard animal hiding in our bassinet. Meanwhile, I'm up taking pictures of rain spattered windows (see above) and trying to stay awake over the monotonous din of the dryer and the whistle of the wind through our chimney.

While improving all the time, sleep is still a valuable commodity in the homestead - typically consumed in stretches as short as an hour or two, but occasionally as long as four hours ("commodity" is probably not the word the word to use here, but whatever - I'm tired too). As a result, time-of-day has become virtually meaningless, except for weekday mornings when I trudge off to work. Daily activities are now dictated by the fullness of baby's belly.

Nursing is going along great, or so I say - I can't do any of it. Not that I'm complaining because it grants me that valuable extra sleep time.

Today is the first day we have outfit Lydia in her cloth diapers, and they are still rather huge. Oh well - baby will have to deal with a bulbous backside (read: extra cute) for a few weeks until she grows into them.

The cats care about the new family member as much as you all care to read about my cats - that is to say, they don't. They ignore her totally, focusing instead on all of her odd-smelling toys and the bags and ribbons they came wrapped in. No longer stealing naps in her bassinet or on her change table - which have been marked with her "scent" - they have taken to living out of her crib with the giant stuffed animals and pretty handmade quilts. If I were a cat, I would no doubt do the same.

Outings have included grocery runs, family tours, and, more recently, doing laps around the mall in the stroller while one of us hits up a store (the stroller is too big to fit into most stores without causing a scene). This seems to be a pretty popular activity for new families in HRM as the mall is absolutely packed with suped-up strollers and sugar-fueled toddlers. If you use your imagination, its almost as if you're living a round of Super Mario Kart.

And that's about it. Stay tuned for more Lydianess and non-Lydianess.