A trip to Berkeley and...

A farewell of sorts.

The trip began with Ila in her longest cartrip ever. She started snoozing in my arms as part of her regular afternoon siesta. We hurriedly grabbed the window of opportunity to tuck her into the carseat in the already packed car and headed off on our trip to housesit in a the big city, or near it, at Doug and Susan's warm and cozy home in Berkeley. Doug and Susan were even more daring, taking their son who I've sadly dubbed "Jacko" and who is only 3 weeks older than Ila, clear across Nevada to camp in the Ruby Mountains where we used to backpack as kids. Now that takes gumption. I'm impressed. We're inspired. But I digress.

In Ila's one hour and fifteen minute trip, I slipped my hand under her sleeping, slumped-to-the-side head, so she might imagine she was napping next to me at home. Every once in a while we'd be jostled by a bump in the road, and the little napper's eyes would fly open. So I'd quickly shut my lids and yawn a big dramatic superyawn. And each time a few seconds later I'd peek at her, to see what the little napper had done. And each time she'd gone right back to napping just as I'd hoped. How convenient it was for my eardrums (and heart) that she started bawling only after we stopped the car and shut off the engine outside of Doug and Sue's house.

The farewell was a farewell to my job at the world's biggest progressive phone company in San Francisco. You've heard of it. You know it. It was so nice to come back, everyone I saw seemed genuinely happy to see us, me and Ila. Ila was held by so many adoring arms, Wendy's, Liza's, Christa's, Nancy's, Bethany's, Janet's, Sharon's and on and on. I officilly resigned about a week ago, and cleared out my office, or cube rather -- that's one thing I won't miss, working in a cube*-- that day, and that was that.
* how can it be a cube if it only has 5 sides?

And then back in Berkeley, the Auties descended. I loved how in India, any woman of childbearing age who is not related to a child seems to be dubbed an "Aunty." I'm really not sure the criteria Indians use to betitle one with Aunty, but to this old gal there are a few women who are being bestowed the title of "Aunty" whether they like it or not. There's Jone, the oldest friend I've got. Heck, I've known her since she was about 10? And I've seen her sing the praises of George Burns, covererd in corn paraphenalia, and shared almost every Christmas Eve I can remember with her. And there's Aunty Julie -- whith whom I have the twin delight of having had an attempted pick up by a Hasidic man in Brooklyn, and who just lovesssssssssss Ila. And Riquelle the Ubergoddess. They all are Aunties, as I think Ila should have role models of interesting women, possibly more interesting than dear old mom.

First the news, folks.

A little poem goes:
There were two in bed
And the little one said
Roll over, roll over!
And they all rolled over.

Ila simply delights in this poem. Its accompanied by me tugging on her legs and then bending one knee and helping her roll over. Yesterday, Joel shoulted at me to come in the room (we were housesitting at Doug and Susan's in Berkeley) and there was Ila, nearly rolled over, trapped by one arm. Then last night (back at home sweet home) in her cosleeper, she woke up cranky and hungry. She was lurching around and Joel said "She rolled over!" I came over in time to see her on her tummy, holding herself up in the classic baby pose, looking sort of bewildered and still cranky and hungry.

Then this morning I witnessed it myself. I'm wondering how much longer I'll feel safe letting her sleep in our bed for a nap. Hopefully if she rolls over and keeps on rolling she'll go towards the cosleeper. It'll be a fall, but only a 3 inch fall. Bearable. I think. I just pray that she doesn't roll the other way, in which case it would be about a 3 foot fall. No I do not want to see that. In any case, I've got to get Joel to capture our little "roll over" exercise on video before it's just a foggy memory. And maybe I've got to think about getting her into her own bed, though it makes me sad.

oh what a day!

what do the mom and dad of a 2 1/2 month old baby think of the movie "A Prairie Home Companion"? Never mind that the movie is possibly better suited for radio, and that the excellent Meryl Streep seems to be trying too hard in this role (sorry Meryl!). The parents think of the glorious fact that there is a new art house movie theater in Davis (yay!) and instead remember the silly funny moments of that movie. They like the fact that Prairie Home Companion regular Guy Noir (private investigtor) has a big role in the film. They enjoy the music, and Garrison Keillor's face and very good acting. And they feel strangely like they got away with some sort of secret activity. Yes. Bringing a baby to a movie and enjoying the WHOLE movie. Not a peep out of the little peepster, who suckled her way through 90 minutes of glorious darkness illuminated by the flicker of the screen and pickled with the odor of freshly poppped corn.

And those same parents felt even more guilty pleasure when, instead of shuttling their tyke home to bed, they went to an Indian snack shop (albeit a fast food snack shop) and enjoyed spicy snacks while their very alert baby (who should have been in bed) impressed the wait staff, patrons, and even the group of butch college girls singing in the parking lot for a cell phone video.

She's so tiny!

Some of you know that I have been a little concerned about Ila's weight gain, as she is on the low end of the weight gain scale. She's gained 2 1/2 lbs since her birth, that's about 4-5 oz a week. (Babies are generally suppossed to gain about an oz a day, although 4- 7 oz a week is acceptable.)

Since we have so many babies we know that have gained lots of baby fat, mama has been a little worried -- although Ila's pediatrician and the lactation specialists don't seem to be at all concerned. She's just a petite baby! So I'm just gonna not worry. But look at this photo, don't you think she needs to gain some weight compared to her cousin Jackson who is just 3 weeks older than her? To see more pictures of tiny babies like Ila, click here.