The 4 a.m. breathing check.

But you can’t.  And now you’re convinced she’s not breathing at all and you’re on your way to a full-blown panic-attack.  So you creep into her room, risking a wake up.

Don’t pretend you haven’t done it.  I’ve practically held a mirror in front of her mouth myself. 

We’re plowing ahead with the solid foods thing.  Maddie’s still going with the rice cereal after her “dinner” nursing, enjoying bananas as a mid-morning snack, and today we added sweet potatoes as her afternoon snack.  Interestingly enough, she devoured the sweet potatoes while she’s a bit ambivalent about the bananas. 

We had our first snowfall of the season last night and awoke to the perfect winter morning; with about an inch of snow on the ground, the trees were topped in powdered sugar and the back yard was snug under a lovely white velvet blanket.  Madeleine’s eyes grew as big as saucers when she saw it for the first time, and she turned to me with a smile on her face as if to say, “Did you do this just for me?”

We ran a few errands before church this morning, strolling around the Upper West Side.  Maddie was in her infant car seat / stroller base, so she was seeing everything in reverse.  With her Kangaroo Kuddler tucked up under her chin, she looked like a miniature empress snuggled under a thick blanket on a sleigh ride.  She was clutching the edge of the Kuddler, refusing to keep her hands tucked toastily under the blanket, screaming with glee.

Boppy use number sixty two:

Sitting-practice bumper!

Madeleine’s so eager to be upright.  Give her your thumbs while she’s lying down, and she’ll pull herself up to standing, stiff-legging it so she hinges up like a mummy.  On the advice of our pediatrician and a physical therapist who’s an expert in a child’s physical development, we’re trying to avoid having her take her own weight on her legs for a while, so we support her while she “stands.”  But you can see in her face: why lie when she can sit, and why sit when she can stand with all the big people?