Our Feisty Fisks

Raising the female population of Indiana one child at a time

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Monday, July 03, 2006

Two months one week and counting


We have a picture frame that has a 4x6" slot for a picture at the top and then 12 2x2" slots for monthly pictures of Ava so we can see how she's changed throughout the first year. This has led to two realizations:

1. It's already been two months!?!?! She's 1/6th of a year old!
2. She is changing very fast! Seeing her everyday, of course, we don't notice, but when you put her 1 month picture next to her 2 month picture in the frame its amazing. Her cheeks have filled out, she's smiling much more often, her eyes have stayed blue like her daddy's (YES!). Even though we have though since the day that she was born that she was the most beautiful, perfect baby ever, she just keeps getting more and more so everyday.

Last night I pulled a brilliant move while I half-awake-half-asleep-ly prepared Ava's bottle at 3:50 AM. To review a bottle's anatomy, there is the actual bottle, a screw-top that holds the nipple, and a cap that covers the nipple that you just push onto the screw-top. Since Ava has been eating slightly more lately (especially at night), we've just been preparing 8 oz bottles of formula for her feedings instead of the 4 oz'ers. So anyway, I take Ava's bottle out of the microwave and swish it around since it doesn't heat evenly in the microwave. When I went to put the screw-top on, the part of my brain that reminds me that I have to actually SCREW it on and not just PUSH it on (like the cover) must have still been sleeping. Consequently, I pushed it on and began only holding the bottle by the screw-top. I can attest to the fact that the laws of physics still apply at 3:50 in the morning. The bottle fell in slow motion (or was my brain just working slowly?). I'm not sure I even realized quite what happened until I saw that my hand was holding only the screw-top and not the 8 oz of formula that were now on the kitchen floor. Needless to say, I ended up staying up a little longer than I had hoped.

I think Ava may be trying to make me look bad. The other day she was laying on her playmat on the floor and I was laying next to her talking to her about how she should watch out for boys because I was young boy before and I know what boys think about. I digress. Anyway, she's happily cooing and waving her arms around when suddenly she lands a right thumb jab into her own right eye! For some reason this was uncomfortable for her and she started wailing like we had told her that Sparky doesn't love her anymore or that she could no longer suck on a pacifier. Doni stuck her head out of the kitchen and lovingly asked, "What'd you do to her!?!?!" I explained what happened and then counseled my little snuggle-muffin on the dangers of waving her arms around while she still lacks the understanding that her arms are under her control and she should not harm herself with them. It was a good father-daughter moment.

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