Stinkerbell’s name is now almost always Stinky, and I think this one is going to stick because not only is she, well, stinky a lot of the time, but she’s also a total stinker, too. Inquisitive, pigheaded, temperamental, charming, engaging, and ridiculously cute–that’s my girl!

She spent quite a while before she turned three months trying very hard to talk, imitating us and making noises to get us to say favorite words. (”Hi!” meant, of course, “hi,” and “Guhguh,” together, meant she wanted to hear us say “good girl.”) But now she’s mostly lost interest and had concentrated on grasping, standing, bouncing, etc. She’s pretty much stuck to two signs that she uses well (”milk” and “pacifier”), but a lot of that is fine motorskills–that is, a total lack of them. She can play 20 questions pretty well. Depending on her mood, “yes” is either an excited arm-flap or crying, so if we ask “Do you want…?” and go down the list of usual suspects (milk, diaper, pacifier, sleep, hugs, Daddy, Mommy), she’ll respond to the one that she’s wanting. She’s tried to do “potty”, but it’s too hard to distinguish it from “milk.” She also follows one instruction–”Come to (Mommy, Daddy, me, whoever).” Sometimes, she’ll cry when she leans across, but she still leans! Good girl.

The Bear said his first word at seven months, his first two-word combination at ten, and his first long sentence at nearly fourteen. I’m not sure that Stinky will speak that soon, since she seems to have lost most of her interest as long as he can make herself understood. Her most common spound now, though she babbles, it “Hoohooooooooo.” My owl-baby!

She has discovered how to manipulate things with her hands now. She batted almost immediately, but at 2 mo, she could grasps the object of her desire pretty quickly. Now, she can reach for, grasp, and lift things, though she often has to use the arm opposite to help. She LOVES chewing things, which makes me uneasy since the Bear was such a non-chewer. I’m going to have to be really careful of his Legos and other toys now! I also hope she doesn’t do things like pull the safety outlet covers out of the outlets–the Bear left the outlets alone once I removed the covers (AKA “wall toys,” to him), but I don’t think she would. She does not have the skill that she wants to with this whole object manipulations thing, so at times, she’ll start sobbing in frustration as she’s trying to make something do what she wants, and even if I know what it is, having Mommy do it does NOT help because SHE wants to do it, all by herself. The walker is actually a favorite toy right now because of that. She can paddle around in it when she wants to, but mainly, she loves how close the tray brings things to her hands. (She barely tolerates tummy time and shows very little interest in crawling. She wants to WALK, darn it. The Bear, at the same age, worked with ferocious concentration at crawling–and he learned to walk slightly late, at 14 months! Stinky might skip crawling entirely, the way my mother did.

She’s not a terribly cuddly baby. The Bear would just melt into a boneless mass of contentment in your arms. Stinky is all about DOING things. Being talked to, eating, playing, go-go-going, always. She won’t rest her head against your chest. She’s always looking around and is an unapologetic out-facing baby.

I’m pretty sure that Sinky has my muscle condition, which is why she’s so incredibly strong. (We jokingly call her “superbaby.”) If we hold onto her hands just enough to balance, she can walk bearing her own weight. She can stand while holding onto an object. This week, she even pulled up once, using her arms over my arm to get to her feet–and this from a full sitting position, not leaning forward at all. She’s now hit every developmental milestone for 7 months except sitting without support, though she can almostalmost do that, and it’s mostly an issue of confidence rather than skill. She even waves goodbye when other people wave first. She stands pretty firmly while holding onto something at chest-height. She’ll steal something she wants out of your hand (even if she does usually drop it because its to heavy), and she’ll lean over to gently touch an item of interest if you support her hips. Where did my newborn go????

Bath time continues to be…interesting. At her bath on her 3-week birthday, she sprang into a standing position when I rocked her forward to wash he back. Talk about terrifying! Here I was, holding a screaming, furious baby (all open mouth, squeezed eyes, and red, red face), standing on these impossibly skinny legs and literally stomping up and down while I’m desperately trying to keep her from flinging her sudsy, slippery body out of the baby tub. That scared me badly enough that I bathed her in the big tub with me for a while, but then she got so where she mostly liked baths as long as I kept her from startling herself. (This is easier now, but it used to be that she’d startle at a molecule of air.) Even if she gets upset now, a stern “No!” when she tries to stand makes her settle down.

Stinky believes that sleep is for chumps. Chumps, I tell you! The Bear sleeps 10-12 hours a day, and the days are becoming more and more frequent that she sleeps less than he does. Not fair!!!! I NEED those naps, even if she doesn’t, but these days, one 15-minute nap and one hour long nap are the absolute most I can hope for, and some days it’s only one 5-to-15 minute nap. The good thing, though, is that she’s now sleeping in her crib–and will asked to be put down! First, she eats like crazy for about an hour. Then she cries very softly and makes a “paci” sign. Then she sucks it and either her eyes slide shut and she cries softly some more or she looks imploringly at me with huge eyes. A question of “Sleep?” is met with a single, weak wiggle, and she goes down–in her own crib! Hooray! It took the Bear, who was a total snuggle baby, six months to start the night in his crib, but she prefers it. She prefers to finish it in my bed, still, but as she sleeps longer and longer, that will become less of an issue.

When she does take a couple of really long naps–like and hour and a half–that means I’m in trouble at night. She’ll go down, sure, but she’ll be up with the roosters, crowing and talking and giggling and pawing at me to play with her. Stinky LOVES mornings. NOT MY BABY. While Bear and I are lurching around like zombies, she’s having the time of her life, laughing and playing. She’s usually a lot more mellow in the evenings.

She loves watching dancing and being danced with–of course! What baby wouldn’t? And she has the advantage of a constantly dancing Daddy!

The most surprising thing she’s come up with recently, though, is that she’s insanely jealous of the Bear. She was in her walker, happily playing with her toys when the Bear climbed onto my lap for snuggles. With a cry out outrage, she dropped the toy and flung herself over to me, her arms desperately reaching for me. Um, yeah. That needs to end about yesterday! It was hilarious, though.

I do hope she’s a really early walker. She’ll be so happy to investigate her world under the power of her own steam!

I have to say just how incredibly proud of the Bear I am. He’s just turned six, and except for bad days, he is so exceptionally mature for his age. I was born an “old soul,” but he’s a kid’s kid, so it’s easy for me, from my perspective, to forget sometimes just what a great kid he is. So this post is a huge brag-fest.

-He almost never meets anyone he can’t get along with. He negotiates, mediates, goes along, persuades, cajoles, and otherwise makes things work.

-I don’t have to worry about him when he plays with others. In a four-hour period, I might tell him once to be more gentle or calm or to share something in a different way. Max. When the kids are playing in another room and one screams and five other parents leap to their feet to make sure their kid wasn’t the one who did something to cause it, I don’t have to stand up anymore because he’s never the guilty party. He doesn’t push. He doesn’t hit. He doesn’t even cheat his turn or pick stupid, pointless “kid” arguments. He goal is harmony among the people he’s playing with, and he makes it happen. In fact, there are rarely problems in the area where he’s playing because he diffuses situations between other kids.

-I can take him almost anywhere. The opera, the theater, a nice restaurant, a long car trip–he almost always behaves. Now, he might be singing at the top of his lungs in the car :-), but he’s appropriate to the situation. (He loves operas. I take him to all kinds of things to see what “sticks,” and opera is his #1 hit. His very favorite is The Magic Flute. Next is Hansel und Gretel. Then is Amahl and the Night Visitors.)

-He’s generally polite and respectful. He forgets in impatience and excitement, but he really wants to be as polite as he can, and it shows. Every time we go to an event or have someone over or have some kind of lesson, people tell me what a great kid he is. I agree.

-He works his tail end off to the extent of his abilities. The autism/ADD/sensory processing disorder/dyslexia/CAPD complex of conditions runs in my family. He dodged any hint of autism or SPD, but he got a medium dose of CAPD and ADD and a heavy one of dyslexia, and yet this kid works hard to overcome it. He sets his own timer in math to keep himself on task. He’s stretched his memory to phenomenal limits to compensate for his CAPD. (I had him formally evaluated this summer, and there was a 5-standard deviation difference between his normal performance on most tasks and his performance in his weakest areas. Seriously, FIVE standard deviations!) When he’s doing well, I can simply give him his written assignments, and he comes to me when they’re done. Yep, in Kindergarten, and he’s ADD enough that he could not learn in a normal classroom setting with medication. (No way am I medicating a 6-year-old at home, though!) He’s also caught the love of reading after an awful lot of hard work to get him fluent. Because of the nature of his dyslexia, he could test at a 5th grade level and read 6th grade level books before he could read 2nd-grade texts at an appropriate speed and fluency. Now, he’s reading 4th grade books independently. He read 20 books in January alone! He’s not at the maturity level I’m hoping for him here. I’d like to see him working with more speed and diligence. But he’s pretty amazing for any 6-year-old, never mind one with issues that make it harder.

-When you take his ADD and CAPD into account, his behavior is even more impressive. Behavior, because of lack of impulsiveness control, tends to be a big problem with kids with ADD. It’s been a long, hard row to hoe from where we started. A few years ago, I was complaining bitterly about parents who don’t hold their kids to high standards since the Bear consistently was the third worst kid (wiggly and spacey instead of listening) in any group because the bad behavior of the very worst distracted him so. It is one thing to ask a kid with ADD to not misbehave. It’s another to ask him to behave *better* than other kids. But now, that’s exactly what he does–most of the time, at least! He’s still never the worst kid, but now he’s often one of the best at any given moment. Totally awesome, and the result on lots of hard work on his part.

-The strides he’s made this year in swimming really impress me, as well. He took his first swim lesson this summer, when he was afraid to put his head underwater. But gamely, he persevered. He passed Red Cross Level I in one go, II in one go, and now III after two goes. He’s in IV, the old Advanced Beginner, and is actually almost ready for V, Intermediate. I know that because of a blooper on my part. We’d been doing Tues/Thurs lessons all along, except that now he’s in a level that has so few kids in it for his age group that it only has three times total instead of 17 for Level II and 14 for Level III. All of these are Mon/Wed. (UGH!) I had a brain fart and took him on Tues, accidentally missing the Mon class. By now, most of the swim teachers know us, so I asked if one of the other classes didn’t have a hole he could slip into. The Level V class, which only meets Tues/Thurs, only had one child enrolled, and the teacher asked if he could swim a 25-yard lap. “Sure!” I said. That’s the most he’d swum at a go before, but he’s done it and wasn’t tired at the end. So she got him in the water and and had him doing laps–alternately with a kickboard practicing rotary breathing and with freestyle. And the kid swam for 30 minutes straight! He gave it every ounce he had, even when his freestyle devolved into a pathetic semi-dog paddle because he didn’t have the strength to get his elbow out of the water any more. All heart, that kid. The instructor said he was right on the edge of Level V already, so one session of level IV, and he’s there. This thrills me to no end because after he graduates from Level V (by summer????), he’ll be swim team level, which means that the cost will drop to a bit more than a third of what it is for lessons. Wooohooo!

-He makes his own cereal and hot dogs. He hangs his own clothes. He cleans his room and the playroom. Sometimes, he even cleans them without my asking. We’re working on combing hair and brushing teeth without being asked, though, and I’ll do bed-making at some point….

-And finally, he’s the best big brother I’ve ever heard of. I’m rather ashamed at my and my brother’s relationship in comparison, and we actually bump along pretty well. He adores his sister–absolutely dotes on her and spoils her rotten. He declares to anyone who will listen that she’s the prettiest and sweetest and smartest and strongest baby int he world. (The very last one might actually be right! 8-0 ) He had NEVER shown the least bit of jealousy, not even when her eating has prevented me from doing something he needed–like feed him, too! He reads to her, sings to her, holds her, plays with her, gets more excited than we do over her new abilities. He doesn’t find her boring in the least, not even when she’s asleep, because she’s HIS little sister. I would simply not have believed such a relationship among siblings of such ages in a book, but it’s happening before my eyes. It makes me miss my little sea monkeys that much more–how happy he would have been to have at least one more, in between him and Stinky! It’s not just me who missed holding them in my arms. He would be thrilled to be in the middle of a huge passel of children.

He does things that drive me crazy, of course. (”What is there to eat?” is a favorite.) But more and more, I’ve been impressed with how much I can depend on him to apply himself to being good and working hard and getting along. I can say that some of it’s parenting, sure. But some of it is just plain him and his sweet-yet-stubborn disposition. Stinky? I’m not so sure that’s she’s going to be quite so sweet.

The Bear fell in love with opera after a short (too short, according to him) children’s presentation of Englebert Humperdinck’s Hansel und Gretel months ago. Ever since, he’s been badgering me to see more. Now that our New Mexico house has sold and we’re paying half as much into our mortgage (that’s INCLUDING the extra I’m putting in every month!), we’ve got the money to spend. So on Wednesday, I took him and the neighbor’s kid Werewolf to downtown Washington, DC, for “Cox and Box,” a Sullivan one-act operetta put on by the Victorian Lyric Opera Company.

It was really funny because this was a part of the Capital Fringe Festival, which is overall very artsy/liberal/edgy/FREE in a very (PAINFULLY, I daresay) self-aware sort of way. And here I am, bringing two small children into a box office which is giving out tickets for things like “7 1/2 Habits of a Highly Effective Mistress” (a one-woman show by a former callgirl!) and “The Sticking Place”, which features “bloodplay, thrill killing, and twisted sexual politics.” The folks working the counter got more than a leeetle uncomfortable before we said what show we were here to see–challenged their “open-mindedness” more than they probably thought it could be challenged. Heh. I so wanted to say “Four to see The Naked Party, please,” (with on stage nudity, of course!) but I behaved myself and let the *oh*-so-rebelliously tattoo’d and nosering’d employees (”rebellious” as only upper middle class white kids CAN be “rebellious”) give us our musical theater tickets without harassing them too much.

Okay. I’m being unfair. There were also some members of the we-wanted-to-be-hippies-but-were-born-10-to-20-years-too-late and-so-we-went-to-Wellesley-instead crowd working there, too. It’s been a long time since I’ve been around people trying so HARD to be cool.

The operetta’s staging was minimal, but the acting was brisk, the energy high, and the singing fun. The boys had a great time, but Werewolf got restless near the end, so that means “yes” to Cinderella for him (a shortened translation of Rossini’s Italian opera for kids) but “no” to the rest of the works we’re going to hit this year.

Today, I hauled the Bear along to Shakespeare in the Park–”Merry Wives of Windsor” was being put on, and it was really a great production. The Bear started to get restless near the end–but since we started with a 45-minute youth play and Merry Wives had a 2.5-hr running time, it was no wonder! I realized that this was going on just last week, and so I didn’t have time to pick up a Shakespeare for Children sort of retelling for the Bear, so he enjoyed it less than he would have if he’d better understood what was going on. He was *most* confused by the crossdressing, though–a lot of male parts were played by females, and he had a hard time keeping track of who was supposed to be a man and who a woman! Still, overall, he had a very good time–even though it wasn’t opera.

Next up is The Mikado in August, followed by Don Giovanni in September. I’m not so sure how DG will go for me, at least–it’s a tarted/moderned-up translation, and I tend to like my operas in their original language, not because I think the librettos are great art or anything but mainly because the music is meant to go with the syllables and sounds of the original language. I hope I like it, though! As far as The Bear goes, I hope it’s not TOO racy.

There are no fewer than 12 different groups within driving range that produce either opera (10 groups) or operettas/older musical theater (2 groups). Since I’m staying away from the “everyone dies” operas, we’re left with maybe a third to a fifth of all the productions that the Bear might like, so having that many to choose from is a boon! I’m trying to schedule one a month, which is enough for any five-year-old, I should think!

DH came and enjoyed himself with Cox and Box and Merry Wives, and he’s coming to Mikado, but he’s going to opt out of most of the operas. If I can get the $25 tickets to Turandot (put on by the Washington National Opera Co.), I think I’m dragging him along, too, to see if he’ll enjoy it. Puccini’s as accessible as you get, and Turandot will be GORGEOUS.

I still don’t really get why opera’s considered an upscale entertainment (versus, say, a rock concert–same price). I mean, they were mass entertainment in Italy for centuries, and the ridiculous story lines and outrageous settings and the like show it. They’re the Hollywood blockbusters of previous centuries crashing at high speed with a soap opera (there’e a reason it’s called soap OPERA!). They just happen to also be completely self-indulgent sybaritic aesthetic experiences, too. Oh, and an excuse to get terribly soppy over silly things. Instead, they have a stuffy, fat-lady reputation. :-/

I’m seriously considering a subscription to the Washington Ballet, too–kids’ version. The Bear loves dance (hmmm….I wonder why that could be?), so I think he’d love it. They’re pretty pricey, though, so I’m still deciding.

The baby is…A GIRL!

Milestones:

Ultrasound, 13 weeks: Sucking thumb!
14 weeks: First flutter
18 weeks: Could feel kicking consistently
Before 20 weeks: Responded to my speech
22 weeks: Got a great startle reflex when I accidentally scared the snot out of her with a loud noise

Right now, she seems to be trying to make an addition to her “home” though much vigorous pushing. This one doesn’t sleep nearly as much as the Bear did, so I’m already a bit afraid that this is going to be my Baby From Hell. (The Bear, at three hours old, figured out there was a difference between being held and not being held and screamed hysterically until he was 6 months old just about every time I set him down, but as long as he was being held, he was a pretty happy-go-lucky fellow. This one’s already got some EXTRA spunk that I’m afraid of… I was going to be a Great Mother and teach my baby to sign. Well, with the Bear, it was impossible because you have to have a free hand for that, and I never did! :-P)

Her Official Blog Name is Stinkerbell because I am a terrible mother.

The Bear is thoroughly disgusted with the fact that he’s having a sister, and when he found out, he tried to convince the sonographer that she just wasn’t looking hard enough and there has to e a boy in there, too. He’s coming to be reconciled with the idea, though.

The Bear is, of course, still tiny. 3rd percentile in height. While all my side of the family is very small until high school, we catch up, but I’m hoping he’s not channeling the genetics of some of the tiniest Chinese relatives! It’s tough to be REALLY short as a man. Then again, it might slow him down a little in the Mac Daddy department, which at this rate would be a good thing.

The insane thing that I’m going to try with this baby is…Infant Potty Training! Yeah, I can hear you laughing now… My mom sure is. But it might work!

…because morning sickness–morning! HA!–is bad.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad–I had almost no pregnancy symptoms with the babies I lost. But it makes it hard to do anything. Yesterday when I felt better, I did some frantic cooking, but I don’t know whether cooking’s going to be in my future for a while here.

I’m going to see the perinatologist again in two hours. Let’s hope for good news. I’m optimistic because I’m miserable!

I’ve been asked by professionals several times in the world of publishing if they are corresponding with me or my personal assistant or if they should send things attn. to me or my PA.

Oh, dear God, what I would give for a personal assistant! Who exactly do they think I am, anyhow? *g* How much money do they think I make?

I can’t imagine getting even a part time a personal assistant until I clear more than 100k a year. I do just about all my WEB work myself, much less everything else. That podcast? Yep. I recorded it. I edited it. All me and my Adobe software and my lovely Loopology royalty-free music CD. (I hate the way I sound when my voice is recorded, but I decided to grit my teeth and get over it because I ain’t hiring anyone to do the voice for me.) And I’m going to eventually figure out how to post the sucker on iTunes. (Yes, I’m having problems! My RSS feed seems to be incompatible with iTunes. To that I say: Pfffth. I CAN learn how to hand-write RSS code, but I really, REALLY don’t want to take the time. If anyone else has done it EASILY…help?)

What I want desperately right now is a part-time housekeeper. Oh, I’d give my eyeteeth, even if I would look pretty silly without them. One of the reasons I want to work my backside off this year is because I reaaaally want someone to clean my danged house, especially since I’ll be homeschooling full-time starting this summer. (No, that sound you hear is NOT me whimpering. I don’t care what you think you hear. I am not. I am stoic and brave.)

I’m hoping to be able to afford someone to come in 4 hours one day a week next fall. And maybe by next spring, twice a week. You’ll know I’m rich when I have someone working for me 20 hours a week. My house would stay spotless! My heart would sing! (Except, of course, for the kid toys and rooms. I have very strong feelings about kids learning to pick up after themselves. Yes, I am the original Mean Mommy.) I am a slob who craves order.

And then…eventually…I’d love a personal assistant to maintain my website, pay my bills, do my filing, make my appointments, play chauffeur for kids, and just take care of all the STUFF that snows me under when I’m stressed. Like now. (Positively twitching, BTW.) At first, just four hours a week. Some day…some century…maybe half time.

Ooooooh, wouldn’t that just be heaven?

(Oh, and Lauren? Saw your post. Thanks and hugs! One of the reasons I’m backing off posting much right now is the insane, mind-boggling amount of work that rebuilding my site is taking. The other main reason is going to be posted on Saturday.)

He now has a job with a larger company than before. And for more money. And a signing bonus.

Hooray!

I made the other posts before I went to the funeral and just scheduled them to appear late. Anyhow, from there I went to MD because my husband lost his dream job on the same day that my grandmother died. So we have a huge, gorgeous, EXPENSIVE house there and no money right now except what I’m making from writing. He’s trying to get another job before the bank takes the house back, but we’ll see… I can’t talk about the details, but chalk it up to the government screwing someone’s life up again. *sighs*

Anyhow, I’m BACK in NM now. Back to my destroyed kitchen and maze of cabinets in the livingroom…. Joy. But the night sky is truly breathtaking here.

Funny thing about car rides.  My brain seems to team like crazt, which is EXHAUSTING, during long ones.  I did a layout in my head for private dorms and other university-oriented businesses, generally stewed, and finally really worked out something about biology that’s be driving me nuts for fourteen years.  It’s not that I thought about it much…it’s just that it threw my bullshit alarm the first time someone tried to pass it off as Scientific Truth and has rankled ever sense, and the combination of some ideas I’ve been developing over the past three years, doctoral thesis work by someone else who proved my first impulse right, and then some recent popular-consumption reading on genetics I did last week suddenly all snapped into place.  I may expound ponderously on it later, if anyone cares.  :-)  And in fifty years to a century, we’ll see if I’m right.

Spend three days saying how you need to iron a shirt for a Big Presentation and then at 1 am the night before, give your wife sad puppy eyes and ask her to do it “because I don’t remember how to iron.”

I got really, really tired of how much random crap I was eating during the day (mostly buttered toast and torillas with melthed cheese–yes, I know, don’t groan), so I decided to give TV dinners another shot after having my first unpleasant experiences more than 10 years ago. Now, there’s isn’t much that’s less appealing than “Homestyle Cooking” to me, and the entire idea of an 1150-calorie fried meal sort of defeated the purpose of eating better. So I decided to try some of the new diet lines. The food looks much, much better–much more like what I would choose to cook rather than the Huge Hunks of Low-Quality Fried Meat With Gravy And Potatoes that seem to dominate the market. So I picked up some Healthy Choice, some Lean Cuisine, and some Smart Ones selections.

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