25. Noble's First Nosh

Sitting. It's de rigeur for any woke baby these days. Noble takes her tips from her desperately out-of-touch parents who spend hours eating, reading and watching from the comfort of their asses daily, rarely refining their motor skills or innovatively slobbering on the undersides of things.

Despite my efforts to seamlessly integrate Daylight Savings Time and put her down 15 minutes earlier each night for the previous four days, Noble still howled for an hour and a half when I treated her to a brighter bedtime Sunday night. And thanks to teething, we're locked into a once-a-night cycle of her waking up and crying languidly for about 30 minutes before I go in and give her a 5 minute sip and lay her back down. While nursing in the dark and trying not to get her too excited, I've started doing slo-mo plié sequences for the full 5 minutes to pass the time. I'm testifying to that fact here, so I'll feel motivated to continue.

At 6 months, she's perfecting her latest expression, as evidenced by her near-constant silent roar of elation.

The mirror doesn't necessarily inform her expressions, but after spending a fair amount of time reflecting, her eyebrows have been werqing overtime.

Sunday, the eve of her ❤❤❤6 month❤❤❤ anniversary, we introduced bananas. Keeping a watchful eye on the camera, she allowed a few bites past those gummy gates before passing stern judgment and demanding full control of the scene.

And water. Utterly un-udderable strangeness.

The aftermath taught us a great deal about portioning, wardrobe and props.

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Love,
Amber

23. Noble Sacrifices

Keeping up with writing once a week hasn't been much of a sacrifice. I'm up most days at 6:30, so pecking out my thoughts with one hand and lovingly cradling one of these beautiful babes with the other isn't too terrible a chore. Hopefully I'm recording all the breaking news and not just wailing about the losses; things like the melon-sized hairball I collected (for posterity) to see just how much has fallen out. Or the flaming red itch in my armpits since I started breastfeeding. A month of nursing without a breast shield has predictably left my nipples in crisis, despite my efforts, especially in cold weather. To ease my sorrows, Noble is now full-on laughing, stirred up by thigh biting, rib tickling and simple pranks. 

It's been ages since I was a single person. 23 weeks ago I was tottering around the yard without a care in the world, except urging my baby to get on with it, but I was totally untethered (except to the toilet) and blissfully unaware of the state of anyone else's undergarments. Now my days start with spikes in adrenaline as my radar picks up the early morning distress calls of starvation and a full diaper. 

It's been over a month since Noble started going down at 7, and I've grown accustomed to going out with friends after sunset, enjoying cocktails, and doing full cycles of laundry with impunity. Bill and I stay in most nights, making dinner and catching up on tv until my 9pm nap, if I can make it that long. Tonight I'm going out alone to pick up some over-night diapers. For a friend.

Now that Noble has proven herself an inquisitive and proprietary grabber nothing within arm's reach is safe, and wearing earrings has become a thrilling risk. Watching her reach for things, grab her leg, pet her hair and sigh contentedly is as enthralling as it is gratifying. Listening to her noises is amazing. Sensational. Profound. To know she is modeling herself after our successes and failures day to day is a sobering reminder to live our best lives. Not just play on our phones all day.