Are You Sure I'm Yours?

When my sister Kwan was little, my uncles used to tell her that she was adopted since she didn't really look like Non or me. They got such a kick out of Kwan's hysteric packing and lamenting about how she was going to leave us to go find her real family EVERY AFTERNOON. Apparently nothing was more fun than torturing small children. Chase might get the same warped treatment if we were in Thailand right now. I think she looks just like Wil now but he thinks that she favors me. None of our friends here can decide, so I'm thinking that we're beginning to look alike like old married couples. I think she's a nice blend of us. She's changing so much everyday still. When she was first born, I thought she looked just like Kwan. It was kinda weird to feel like I just gave birth to my sister. Now she's growing into her father's forehead and making it cute and all her own. Observe.
Ohio Potato?
Or something decided more tropical?
What do you think?

And who here can tell me why my child is craning her neck to look behind her and not at the camera?
A minute later...
And another minute passed.
Answer: Our television is behind her, of course. I'm doomed. At least she looks adorable doing it, right?

And I can't help myself and have to post this one of Brutus to prove that he's still alive and very much loved despite having to share everything with the tiny intruder. Brutus is a master hoarder if we let him. He has to inspect and reinspect everything that is brought into this house and will work to steal whatever he wants and doesn't even try to hide it.
Obviously, he wants yet another sibling to ruin his previously charmed life.

This Post is Brought to You by BOOB TUBE

Before Chase was born, I was adamant about the fact that my kid was not going to watch TV. Silent movies, musicals, and SOME animated movies were on the ok list, but the likes of Sponge Bob and Scooby Doo would not do. Oh, how diluted I was. Anyway, this news greatly saddened my husband, who loved Cartoon Network that we had back in the States as much as any 5 year olds, as he was planning to use the kid as an excuse to watch more TV. I really should have known better than to think that we would adhere to this rule. It started out innocently enough. One of us would be holding her with one hand while trying to eat a bowl of cereal with another and watching the news in the morning/evening. I didn't even think about it and the kid really couldn't see that far at the time. I just started to notice about a week ago that not only was she in fact watching TV, she was thoroughly enjoying the experience as well. I know right now it's just moving lights and noises that she finds entertaining, but it hurts me just the same. Yesterday Wil told me that the Colbert Report was her favorite program (I find this slightly disappointing in more ways than one since we are really Jon Stewart's fans). How many times do I have to read the complete collection of Charlie Brown's Encyclopedias to her to offset this habit? Speaking of reading, I'm glad to report that it appears that we might have a book worm on our hands, or so I pray. Her favorite was The Cat in Hat but that might quickly change as our shipment of books I bought from eBay finally arrived. God bless eBay. 30 books for 12 bucks!

Well, you know I had planned to post some pictures but Wil's about to deposit a crying baby in my arms. Better luck tomorrow?

Look at That Tiny Baby!

So it appears that Chase has inherited my grandma's tiny frame and my obnoxiously fast metabolism. She's growing and gaining well and mighty active, but it's clear that she's going to be a petite girl (thankfully with long legs!). I don't have a problem with this, but apparently one of my neighbors does. She gave birth to her daughter about three weeks after Chase came along and her baby is of a healthy Caucasian size, which means much bigger than my kid. The first time she called my baby tiny, it stunk a little. Since I'm Chase's only food source and therefore sort of responsible for her growth, I immediately felt insecure about my mothering ability. I know it's dumb since she's got thunder thighs to show for my effort and I really was just about ready to let go of this nagging feeling until I ran into her again. And once more she kept marveling at how much bigger her kid was than mine. And the same thing happened the following day, and the day after that, and...you see the pattern. I mean, why doesn't she just come out and ask why I starve my kid? Do I want her to stay cute and tiny like a bonsai? Do I feed Thumbelina with a medicine dropper? She could have picked any of those questions and I probably would not feel as bad as when she casts the look of pity my child's way. I told my mom about it and she told me that I was the exact same way with Chase and that I didn't really start to sprout until about the 4th grade. I know this is incredibly silly and I should just learn to ignore it, but damn if it isn't hard feeling like my parenting skill is being unfairly judged. The next time we should run into each other, I should just ask if she would like to breastfeed my little mutt, too.

A Mess That is My Life

This week Chase has been going through some kind of growth spurt/stomach episode and wanting to constantly be held, fed, and entertained, most days without much needed naps. Wil is wrapping up his mid-term week, so the task of baby wrangling falls mostly on moi, which means that the house is a wreck, dirty laundry is everywhere but in the washer/dryer, the dogs smell very badly, and my hygiene has reached an all time low. I have manage to take some pictures/video of the precious one but never have enough time to download anything. This is a rare occasion that she is actually sleeping on her own, mainly from sheer exhaustion, for longer than 15 minutes. I'm just writing mainly to inform my mom that we are still alive and mostly well. I'm not calling because, well, I'm just too tired to dial. Will write more soon. Hopefully.

A Long Weekend

Wil had a four-day weekend and we decided to take it easy and hang around town since we had been traveling almost every weekend lately. We did make an exception for Homburg flea market, naturally, and picked up lots of local strawberries and cherries along the way. I singlehandedly ate about 2 lbs of cherries over the weekend and maybe a pound of strawberries on top of that. Hey, I can't have dairy, so berries are my new vice. I feel rather lame since there's nothing new to report, so why don't we look at some pictures of my cute kid?

I am precious.

Hanging out with auntie Carol at Homburg flea market in her diaper. It was very warm and the cute fat rolls got her a free baby hat. Score!
Paddy was very bored and learned to tightrope walk.
Wil worked on the nursery over the weekend. We'll share some more pictures when it's all done in a couple of years.

Fireworks!

On the 4th morning of Poop Watch 2008, it came. I think it took all she got to push that hard and I could see a sign of relief washing over her tired face afterward. I was mighty surprised that we didn't have a blow out situation on our hand since it was absolutely EVERYWHERE. I had to wake Wil up to help me rinse her off because baby wipes alone were not handling that situation.

Wish you a happy and safe 4th of July. If the weather permits, we'd be grilling out with our friends. If not, I'll be spending the day mapping our route to and from the Homburg flea market and the St. Wendel's cherry market. Putting all that information in our GPS is just an exhausting task that requires lots of naps afterward, which is why Wil will be taking care of the baby. Yay, me.

Mama Said There'll Days Like This

The docs have warned us and even I have been anticipating it since her feeding pattern has changed. But I'm still a little freaked out that my kid is not pooping, not that you can blame me, right? We're going on the third day of Poop Watch 2008 and I'm packing 2 extra outfits in the diaper bag to get ready for the Big One.