Thursday, January 29, 2009

6 months old and going strong

Yesterday, when Sabrina lacked one day of six months, she was sitting in her crib while I was putting away her clothes. In an attempt to eat the crib rail, she put both hands on the rail and PULLED HERSELF UP! She is so advanced for her age (Buys, 2009). I was so excited that Sabrina got excited and grinned and giggled at me. Worry about her safety made me pick her up, get my camera, and put her back in her crib to properly document this momentous event. Of course, she wouldn't pull herself up again (until this morning!) so I had to pose the photo by standing her up. Of course, I now have to remember to put the crib rail up every time so she doesn't fall out of the crib, something you don't have to worry about when your baby can only roll around helplessly at the bottom of the crib.

At Buys Family Fun last Sunday, I was so jealous that Cheri's baby (the Bodester) would just open up his mouth for food, whereas my baby (the Tiny One) had to be tricked and teased into opening her mouth, at which time I would stuff a spoon with cereal/prunes/pears on it into her mouth, at which time she promptly spit half of it out. Or blow a raspberry. However, along with pulling herself up, Sabrina also was opening her mouth for food, and not spitting it out last night. Of course, she still blew the occasionally raspberry, but all things considered, she definitely got more food than usual!

Footnotes: Buys, S.S. (2009) Family Newsletter, p. 1.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

And so we regress

Two night ago, dear Sabrina refused to sleep. Well, to be fair, she had a fever from her shots and a stuffy nose from (I suspect) her immune system being overwhelmed by the shots. It was like having a 2-week-old all over again. Sleeping on the couch with Sabrina in her swing, feeding the Girl all night long....Plus, her diaper was HUGE in the morning from all the feeding I did during the night. At least last night was better, with fewer wakeups. It appears I will survive.

Segue...Sabrina has begun to really have fun in the bath. She sits up now, so she can splash with her hands or lean back and splash with her feet. She is so pleased with herself--she'll look up and me and just grin, "Ha ha, now I can get you wet. Boo ya!"

Friday, January 23, 2009


I was discussing the whole "fun age" concept with Lisa today. We agree that so far, our kids (5 1/2 months and 16 months) have gotten more and more fun. Here's a brief list of why my child is getting more fun.

1. When I wave my arms around, she responds by waving her arms around.

2. When I got to Lisa's house today, she was sitting on the floor. When she saw me, she cried and lifted up her arms for me to pick her up.

3. She is SO DANG CUTE when she cries!

4. She is starting to want Mommy, not anyone else.

5. She wakes up twice a night. Oh wait, that doesn't belong here.

5. She laughs at herself in the mirror.

6. She smiles while sucking her lips in.

There are many more reasons that Sabrina is getting more fun, but right now she is fussing and wants her mommy to play with her. That might be reason #7!

Tuesday, January 20, 2009


I love being home every day until 10, especially on days like this. Wait--who am I kidding. There have been no days like this. Right now the former Presidents are making their way out. I like seeing all the partisan stuff in abeyance, once the Presidents are out of office. Former Presidents H.W. Bush and Clinton are really nice to each other.

I was talking to mom about OM last night (see previous post), and she suggested that non-American people are not thinking that the Zion, (the New Jerusalem) will be built on the American continent during Obama's Presidency, but that Obama's election reemphasizes the American Dream, and that people want to believe in the American dream. I like this interpretation better than my previous one, and have decided to magnanimously allow the Shirefolk their dreams.

Sabrina is sleeping right now, with her hands behind her head and her little elbows sticking out. Sleeping through one of the most significant moments in American history.

Ooh--there's a woman wearing one glove. Weird. She doesn't look like Michael Jackson.

Obama's girls are so cute. I think it's fun to have a family in the White House again. I like, too, that Michelle Obama asked the White House staff not to make their beds. I also like that she made clear that the staff could make HER bed.

Well, here's to the next four years. It's amazing to think that Sabrina will grow up in a world where a black man being President is normal, not amazing, and that she will look at her mother as living in a different era. And, she'll be right!

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Obama Mania

Charles Krauthammer coined the term "Bush Derangement Syndrome" (hereafter "BDS") to describe those people who hate Bush so much that they can't be reasonable. You know them (you may even BE them). I don't want to talk about that right now. No, I want to discuss their (possibly your) opposite derangement, the belief that EVERYTHING WILL CHANGE with the new administration, money will grow on trees, the Mideast will be at peace, and the earth will be renewed and receive its paradisaical glory: Obama Mania (hereafter "OM").

I've read a lot about the celebration of random Nigerians, Liechtensteiners, Burmese, and Hobbits who are ecstatic about our new President. And I've been bugged by their OM. I wasn't sure why for a long time, but now I think I know. These Africans, Europeans, Asians, and Shirefolk think that Obama is THEIR President. He is not. He is OUR President, and I expect him to act in America's best interest, not in the best interest of Nigeria, Lichtenstein, Burma, or the Shire. I hate to see all these non-Americans disappointed, but I will NOT be pleased if their interests are acted on above the interests of this country. Not that I think they will be, but a lot of non-Americans that have BDS blame everything they don't like about America on Bush, and some of it is just that we are the biggest and strongest, and they are bitter. That is all.

Ready for 6 months?

I got a deal with a photography company, Gingerbread Photo, that for a reduced price they will take Sabrina's picture at 3, 6, 9, and 12 months. For the 3 month picture she needed to hold her head up while on her belly, 6 months is sitting, 9 is standing while holding on to something, and 12 months is standing alone. Last week I was a little worried, because Sabrina could really only sit for a few seconds without toppling over. What's that you say? I worry about stupid stuff? So what!

It's really amazing though. I swear that on Tuesday last week she could not sit up, and on Wednesday she was like "Yeah, I can sit up. What's next? Calculus?" It's really amazing how suddenly she was able to just do it. Here she is, the clever girl.

Good intentions

Here is the question for the day: Is segregation okay if the intentions are good? On NPR the other day I heard that there is going to be a new museum at the Smithsonian for African American History. One of their displays is (I think) Miles Davis's trumpet. I was bothered by this story because it seems to me that in placing this artifact in the African-American museum instead of the (plain old) American History museum, we are taking him away from the rest of America and emphasizing that he is different from "us." Instead of the focus being on his trumpet virtuosity, the focus is on his blackness.

They also plan on placing some shackles from the Middle Passage in this new museum. Now, I am an unashamed American patriot, but I know we have made many mistakes as a country, slavery only being the biggest. Does this new museum mean slavery is taken out of the American History Museum? Do we just get America's successes in the American History Museum? Are we relegating America's mistakes to a more specialized museum? I think in order for us to really come together as a country, we can't segregate our history, even though the intentions are unquestionably good. At least, that's how I see it now.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Poop Chronicles

Did you know that moms are obsessed with poop? You did?

Sabrina pooped on Monday, but not Tuesday. Naturally, I was expected a blowout on Wednesday, so I made sure there was an extra outfit in Sabrina's diaper bag. When I picked her up from Breklyn's house,she was still in the supercute outfit I dressed her in that morning. Sure enough, Breklyn confirmed that, as I suspected, Sabrina had not pooped. So, I took her home and waited.

I did not have to wait long. About 20 minutes after we got home, Sabrina had a blowout, so I had to change her clothes. Then, about 30 minutes after that, she had another blowout. Two outfit changes in an hour. It's a record (at least for Sabrina)! I'm still waiting to beat Karen's 7-wipe diaper change, though.

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Sobbing Soccer Scenes

Sabrina doesn't cry much. Oh, there's the calling-out-to-mommy in the middle of the night, or the hurry-up-with-that-food, but generally she doesn't scream. Except at Spencer's soccer games. Whenever Spencer's team scores, everyone very inconsiderately yells and cheers. Sabrina REALLY does not like this noise. The third goal of the day today she was almost inconsolable, although her lack of enough sleep and hunger may have contributed to her sobbing. I had to laugh a little, 'cause she was just so cute as she was crying!

Thursday, January 8, 2009

Wordy Shipmates

So, I don't want to brag, but Sabrina slept until 7:15 this morning! Of course, I did not, because I could only doze from 5:00 on because I was listening for her. Ah well.

For Christmas, Mom got me a book called The Wordy Shipmates by Sarah Vowell. I had heard a review on it on NPR, and I was really excited to read it. I have never laughed so much while reading a book. Just as an example: On page 42, she writes, in relation to the idea of predestination, "Let's hazard a guess that some people are not going to be up for this. The constant uncertainty--is it streets of gold for me or am I merely lighter fluid for the flames of hell?--weighs on the believer." Yeah, that would weigh on me.

The style of the book is unusual. Vowell inserts herself into the book a lot, turning it into a really, really long editorial with a lot of history in it. (I tell my students NEVER to refer to themselves in an essay. I'm still right. This book works, though.) I don't mind this style, and as I said, the book is hilarious. However, I was reminded of Elizabeth Bennet's words in Pride and Prejudice, when she said, "One may be continually abusive without saying anything just; but one cannot be always laughing at a man without now and then stumbling on something witty." I sort of felt that Vowell (a self-proclaimed disbeliever in God) found the Puritans fascinating, amazing, and misunderstood, but she also believes their whole lives' foundation to be, well, wrong. And thus she was able to be highly amusing. I'll have to read the book again to see what further opinions I have of it.

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Be careful what you wish for

Last night I put Sabrina down at 7:30, and went to bed at just after 10 myself. At 5:45 I woke up DESPERATE to feed Sabrina. She was still asleep! Of course, I went in to check on her, and woke her up (accidentally) in the process, but I'm counting this as her first sleeping through the night, even though we both went back to bed. 6:00 is morning. I spend 2 years waking up at 5:30 for Seminary and 4 years waking up between 5:30 and 6:00 to teach school. Yay! She slept through the night! And the only casualty was well, my feeders. I guess I'll take it.

Thursday, January 1, 2009

Grandpa Spencer

Zane's grandpa, Leonard Spencer, died a couple of days ago. It was really sudden; just a couple of weeks ago he got a blood clot and went to the hospital and found out he had gall bladder cancer that had spread to the liver. In the three or so weeks between his diagnosis and death, he went from a capable, strong man to staying in bed all day. Grandpa's funeral is tomorrow, so here are a few memories of him.

Coming home from work 18 months ago to find Grandpa in a huge hole, digging up the root ball of a 70-foot pine tree, recently deceased (the tree, that is).

Looking at all the mandolins he made with his own two hands.

Listening to people play the mandolins he made with his own two hands, while he stood by trying to look modest. Actually, he did look modest.

Watching him help Grandma out of the car, up steps, or out of a chair and into her wheelchair.

Hugging him and thinking, Man, he's tall!

Hearing World War II stories--his and other people's.

Most of all, knowing that Grandpa was never afraid to say that he loved you.

I love you Grandpa. Say hi to Grandpas Buys and Sargent, Grandma Maughan, Sierra, and my future kids. L'chaim!