Silverware? Nah, I got pincers

There are certain obvious developmental benchmarks you watch for in kids. Even the oblivious notice them: Rolling over; sleeping through the night; teething; making sounds with the mouth other than burps; and crawling.
You know, the major stuff.
Well, there is another important developmental accomplishment. And by important I mean that, well, you kinda need this skill: picking up stuff with your fingers, namely food.
I fully admit that this was not on my list of things to look forward to Elise learning. It's not that I wanted her to go into childhood sans dexterity; it just never dawned on me that finger coordination is a learned skill.
Well, it is, and Elise is catching on.
She's getting pretty good at using those little pincers. She gets practice each day when, after her evening feeding, she gets a small handful of Cheerio-like puffed grain snacks. Yeah, I know, they sound horribly bland, but they're flavored and really quite tasty. Well, that's overselling, but they're not bad.
Anyway, it took her some time to figure out that when Mom and Dad are not going to shovel food in the mouth, maybe the thumb and index finger do the trick and make quick work of those puffed morsels.
I'm ready for the next developmental feat: eating real food with the hands. Maybe that will mean graduating from puffed grain snacks to a bucket of wings.

She's just so tactful

The other day we were marveling at one of Elise's new tricks (maybe it was turning on the light switch from her changing table, or maybe it was opening the entertainment center door) when Anni asked me the following -- with a straight face:
"Think of how much she has learned in just seven months. I mean, what have you learned in the last seven months?"
Huh. Good question.

And....we're back

Our computer situation is not entirely squared away, but clearly I have Internet access now, so it's time to update the blog.

An observation about this bottom photo: My hair suggests I shouldn't take photos right after I wake up -- yikes. Good thing your eyes are drawn to the little creature trying to crawl up my back.

Little arms, big embrace

You know what's swell?
A hug from your child, even if those little arms don't quite reach around your neck yet.

At Month 6, a safe bet

At the doc: It's all fun and games
until somebody gets their thighs poked

We walked into the doctor's office the other day for Elise's 6-month checkup and commenced with the routine:
Pull off her clothes, let the diaper-clad child try to rip apart the butcher paper on the exam table and then set her on the plastic measuring tray.
The measurement: 28 inches.
A few minutes later her doctor came in. She gave us a new set of those interesting yet somewhat meaningless growth comparison charts. Turns out our child still is comfortably above the curve -- is it possible to be in the 110th percentile? -- for her length. I can only assume we'll see a similar placement after her first IQ test.
Anyway, back to length and height. The doctor cannot properly estimate Elise's adult height until she is about 2 years old.
"But it's safe to say she will not be short," the doc said.
Yes, that's probably a safe prediction.
Everything else checked out just fine. The heart beats, the eyes still move, the ears aren't oozing. She got another slew of immunizations -- three to the thighs, one in oral liquid form -- and Anni and I each got poked for a flu immunization. (In the arms, not the thighs. That'd be odd.)
When we put Elise in her car seat at the end of the appointment, we were reminded of her length. At 28 inches, and with toes dangling over the edge of the seat, she is an inch short of requiring the next "child safety and travel restraint system," which she'll grow out of sooner than we expect.
And that's definitely a safe prediction.

Inky prints: Get 'em while you can

A few weeks ago we were at my parents' house digging through old photos, trying to find documented evidence that I was a cute child. Contrary to your assumptions, we found the evidence. But in the process, I'd stumble across a photo of me that would prompt a question like: "Why did you let my hair grow so long?"
Well, for the sake of storytelling, let's imagine photos still exist in 25 years -- apparently my stories are fictional -- and there comes a day when Elise is flipping through pictures of her childhood.
If she ever catches a glance at these photos, I imagine she'll have only one question: "What the heck am I holding?"

Best sticker she'll ever have

We took Elise with us when we went to vote in the primaries on Tuesday. No, we didn't use her to somehow cast an extra ballot -- after all, I was born in Chicago, but I don't live there -- but good habits start young, right?
Anyway, turnout was ridiculously low -- no surprise there -- but I think the old guy handing out "I Voted" stickers was glad Elise turned out. He almost did not let us leave; she was dishing out big smiles and he was just thrilled.
Next year I'll teach her to stay up and track poll results as they come in. How exciting!

Baby. Sitting. Up.

This is from a couple of weeks ago. She's now beyond needing support to stay sitting upright.

Dude, my Dell is a piece

Elise reached several milestones in recent days, but you wouldn't know it by the look of the blog.
I haven't been able to post because we had problems with our home computer and then more problems -- it's tough to use a computer when the screen suddenly craps out.
I plan to get blogging again soon because there are developments to share, not the least of which is that Elise turned 6 months old last weekend.
And, she goes in for a routine checkup next week and will have something to show the doctor: her first tooth.
More on that -- and why she has sounded like Keith Richards in recent days -- soon.

Four on the floor

I suppose these represent the test run for the upcoming 6-month shots. It's nice having a baby who poses without instruction.

Getting saucered

The other day Anni unearthed the Exersaucer that was gifted to us months ago by her cousin.
Elise has been using a saucer at school in recent weeks and gets a kick out of it.
Imagine the look on her face when she saw Anni set up one for her at home. It wasn't a look of excitement. It actually was a look that said, "Well, would you look at that. So where have you two been hiding this thing for the past couple of months? What other toys have you squirreled away?"
Anyway, as the photos suggest, she enjoys the saucer at home, too.

Patches

It was only hours -- minutes, maybe -- after Elise was born that we noticed she has a distinguishing mark: a small patch of blond hair on the left side of her head. We like it, especially when a breeze catches the long, whispy hairs and they stand on end. It was a fun early discovery.
She is now almost 6 months old. In that time we have changed hundreds of diapers, bathed her dozens of times, watched as she rolled around endlessly in just a onesie, nibbled on her toes -- she thinks it's hilarious, as all babies probably do -- and rubbed plenty of lotion and sunscreen on her lanky shanks.
So imagine our surprise when we got back into town after our vacation and it was mentioned to us that Elise has a birth mark on the back of one of her knees.
Yeah, right. We're her parents; we would have noticed that.
Wait, really? Sure it's not just dirt? There's a birth mark?
Yep.
Now, she's a big, long baby, but so big and long that we failed to notice a birth mark the size of a silver dollar? No, apparently we're just not very observant.
Does it matter? Of course not, but we're just amazed it took this long for us to notice.
On a related note, I learned last week that Anni has a peg leg.

Sideways

Back home to our Maine squeeze

Question: What's better than a week spent in Maine, eating lobster, scallops and other sea dwellers, hanging out with great people at a wonderful location and watching good friends get married?
Answer: Only one thing -- returning home to Elise. (Cue the "Ahhhs.")
Anni and I got into town this evening after having spent the past 7 days in and around Bar Harbor, Maine, where our friends Petra and Lee got married just feet from the ocean near sunset on arguably the perfect summer day.


It was a spectacular vacation. We ate unbelievably good food, met some great people (Hey, Lee and Petra: Not a bad group of friends you've got.), enjoyed Bar Harbor and scenic Acadia National Park, took part in an amazing wedding and reception that was capped by an oceanside bonfire and, if that were not enough, admired some picturesque sunsets.



Do I still have a case of wedding sappiness? Perhaps, but it was a great celebration, so that's to be expected.
Even before Elise was born we decided that we would make the trip sans child, opting to leave the 5-month-old to be watched (and fawned over) by both sets of grandparents. It worked out well for everyone involved: The grandparents had unfettered access to Elise, she was well cared for and Mom and Dad got a much-needed vacation.
Still, a string of fantastic days, scenic mountain-top vistas and $13 lobster meals could not keep us from thinking of the little one.
It was nice for the three of us to be home again.

Anni greeting Elise tonight.

Mom and Dad thought Elise's
made-in-Maine blueberry hat was pretty cool.
Turns out sleep trumps new outfits.

Photo drop

I realize I need to write more, and that's coming soon, but for now here are some photos from the past couple of weeks.
By the way, Elise is 5 months old.

We're trying to keep the bedtime routine simple, but it usually includes a book or two.

Bryan on Elise's baptism day.
He wears ties all the time -- from the backyard to the bathtub.

Shades with Jenee

Q time with my Aunt Renee

This strikes me as a practice pose for the State Fair photo booth.

When babies attack. Laura survived.

Elise and Dan

The farmer checking her carrot crop.

Getting a leg up

Sometimes I wish she'd answer me when I ask, "Lady, why are your feet sticking straight up in the air?"

Movin' picture show for fast scrollers

I've given up on trying to upload video to the blog for the time being, but I did manage to catch Our Little Tumbler in action with the still camera. So if you scroll fast, these photos might actually look like the split-second sequence I took them in.

Thrush hour

One of the benefits of my new job (yes, I got one; more on that over a stiff drink) is that the newspaper's office is 5 minutes away from the medical clinic we frequent.
I made that short trip this afternoon.
Anni called to say she was taking Elise to the doctor because her teacher suspected that our little one had a case of thrush. This, of course, is yet another in the long list of minor medical problems common to every baby -- or at least that's what you hear just before you're billed for the treatment.
Anyway, I met Anni and Elise at the clinic, where we got Elise weighed (15.08 lbs.) and diagnosed by the doctor: Yep, that's thrush.
Thankfully, she has a very minor case of the strangely named illness, so it should disappear within a few days of the liquid treatment.
Interestingly, if her case of thrush had been worse, we could have obtained a medicine that leaves the inside of her mouth purple for a day. Of course, if you're still breast-feeding, the baby's mouth isn't the only thing that turns purple. We chuckled with the doctor about that.
So we got the diagnosis and the prescription and left the clinic within an hour -- not bad by normal clinic standards.
"No purple breasts for you today," the doc said as he left the room.

Gerber baby and homemade Gedneys

It just wouldn't be summer anymore without a day spent making pickles.
Anni's family has been turning cukes into prize-worthy pickles for decades (generations?) and in recent years I've managed to get in on the action.
We introduced two pint-sized recruits to pickle production last weekend -- Elise and her cousin Jacob. Elise was a slow learner, preferring to gnaw on a cucumber ("Don't eat the raw materials!") while the rest of us stuffed, dilled, garlicked, boiled and prepped 42 jars of pickles.

I think we'll just give Jacob the whole jar that contains these cukes.

I'd suggest a caption contest for this picture,
but I have some dignity.

Parents gawk at one-baby rollover

Elise finally started rolling over for us tonight. She had been getting close, figuring out how to flip to her side before getting stuck.
But now rolling from back to stomach is almost easy for her.
Maybe it's because of all her practice at school. Turns out that Elise has been rolling all over the place at school for about a week. The teacher mentioned it to me Friday, thinking that Elise already has done that for us at home.
Uhm, nope.
Anyway, what an accomplishment, right? Yes, but it didn't take long to identify a pitfall of this new talent.
About 3 a.m. this morning we awoke to Elise crying in her crib. No surprise; she's been doing that a few times each night, usually because she spits out her Nuk only to realize spitting it out wasn't a good idea.
So I go wandering into her room (more on that development soon) and wouldn't you know she had rolled over and was all worked up because, well, she was stuck on her belly and couldn't figure out what to do. I flipped her onto her back, popped in the Nuk and went back to bed.
Twenty minutes later, same crying from the other room. I wandered in there and wouldn't you know she had rolled over and was all worked up because, well, she had scooted herself to the side of the crib and poked her right arm down the side of the mattress, wedging it between the mattress and the crib rails.
She looked like a panicked animal stuck in a trap.
Problem solved, baby on back, I went to bed.

(Note: Some of you might like to see video of this lady's smooth moves on the living room floor, and I'd be happy to oblige, but it seems we're having some technical difficulty posting video. Stay tuned. Although, by the time I get this fixed, she'll be waltzing.)