Separated at birth?

The original Capt. Morgan

One knee up. This is her new favorite pose. She's ready to walk with one leg up whenever her other one decides to follow.

It’s a disease.

More likely, it’s an unhealthy obsession. And, I know unhealthy obsessions like the back of my hand. In fact, I no longer consider them unhealthy. That’s how much I have grown.

There are two words that can stir venom in any mom across the land: Sippy Cup!

There isn’t a perfect one out there. Yet we search and spend to find the best flippin, hoppin, no-leakin, bpa-hatin, magical, valveless, handled, straw-poppin cup there is.

I feel like I have tried and purchased them all until I read reviews online of other sippy cups and see that I at least show a little bit more restraint than other moms. My cupboard is like a museum of pastel plastic. The ones she liked, leaked. The ones she refused, were leak-proof and perfect in my eyes. It matters not, they are all relegated to the empty space behind the margarita glasses.

And, then we went to the doctor, and she asked if Lolo was drinking anything from a cup. I decided not to show my Achilles heel and chose to simply say that she had no interest in a sippy cup. Then she asked, “Have you ever just tried to let her lap a little bit of water out of a regular cup?”

Wha? Regular cup, as in the kind you can get at IKEA for 17¢? The kind with no science or magical tricks? The kind with no reviews to read on diapers.com or thesoftlanding.com? What do you mean, just a regular drinking vessel? Preposterous!

She loved it. There was no work in it. It was easy. She saw the water in the cup, and I tipped it and it came to her. “So … great doctor. What am I supposed to do when I am out and about across this great state being a busy, on-the-go, no-nonsense mom? Just hand this 9 month-old an open cup of milk?”

She said, “Nah. Just get a cup with a straw.”

She mastered how to drink from a straw in 3 minutes. Again, she may not be talking, but her talent … it’s imbibing. She’s good.

Portrait of my obsession.

Chunker

Chunker update:

Well, Lolo had her 9 month checkup and two things came out of it.

1. She is a milk-a-holic.

2. She is in the 75 – 80 percentile in weight and height.

The doctor asked that I add in more snacktimes with solids to help her need less milk but said her growth is right on track and she’s happy with how proportional she is.

She may not be saying “Dada” or “BaBa” yet, but she can drink you under the table and put you to shame.

He’s Italian.

Meet the man that will be removing my ganglion cyst. Hurray for Dr. Marco.

I’ve had enough of limping along with this bothersome cyst, so I sought out a new foot doctor that would first of all, have a clean office, and second of all, be able to cut this thing out. He’s booked for surgery until January (which is a good sign) and says that it should only take about 10 minutes to remove the cyst. The scar will be fairly large considering how small the cyst is because he has to ensure that he removes every last bit of the mass (yummy) due to the high recurrence rate for ganglion cysts.

And, my instincts were right. He said it was more than plausible that my cyst grew from my repeated trips and twists to my ankle in my Dansko clogs. He said that repeated trauma like that to the same foot can lead to this kind of thing. (As a sidenote, the doctor did seem a little confused as to how I could continually fall in quasi-therapeutic shoes. He knows not my penchant for tripping and falling!)

I’m just focusing on the cool scar I’ll be able to brag about once flip flop season returns. I’m not focusing on the incision. Not at all.

Eureka!

Saturday was a momentous day in our wee household. We hired a person (a very kind woman with loads of experience) to come over and watch Lolo whilst we left the house without a diaper, a bottle or even one stale Oatio in our hands–gasp! It’s an amazing concept, babysitting. Expensive, but amazing.

We chose an afternoon as the first trial so Lolo could hang out with Max (short for Maxine) while she was awake since we plan on using Max as an occasional Saturday night babysitter. I just didn’t want Lolo to wake up while we were out one night in the future and have what seemed to be a stranger pick her up and comfort her. I thought I at least owed her the chance to have mixer with the sitter. And, mix they did. When we got home, it was nite-nite time and she practically begged to go to sleep as she was so worn out.

As for our activities outside the abode. I didn’t really plan an itenerary (another gasp!) because in my mind, the itenerary could have been rushing back to the house when my daughter had a meltdown after realizing that I was GONE! But, she didn’t meltdown (far from it) and we kind of had a loose afternoon ambling around a cute town very near to us. We found a Christmas gift for Lolo and spent some quality time at a pub watching college football, eating appetizers and drinking pints of foamy beverages. I obsessed about the amount of fat that was probably in my soup and opted to eat more of the free pretzels than the dish I paid for. I should have known that butternut squash soup at an Irish pub would be a tablespoon of squash mixed in a large bowl of warm cream. Ah, relaxation.

My initial idea for the afternoon was to go to IKEA to find some additional cheap stuff for the house. But, Matt vetoed that with a quickness noting that that’s not something you do when you are free of baby care. I’ll admit, IKEA on Saturday isn’t exactly relaxing but at least you can get that natural high of crossing things off the to-do lists that rain in my head.

So, we are prepped and ready for Max to come back in a few weeks for a real night out at a restaurant that does not include a kids menu. We’re stoked and the food better be good!

Busy

Halloween parades, baptisms, grandparents abound and babygate installations.

This was quite a weekend.