Addie's in Vogue

I think it is fair to say that as a child, I was never, ever, ever cool. I think this picture of me, circa 5th grade, will testify:

The photograph mostly cuts off my giant denim purse, which was, no joke, usually filled with large compendiums of Herman cartoons. Because I was a fifth-grader who effing loved one-panel comic strips about loose-jowled eldery men and their kerfrumpety wives.

So it pleases me to no end that, even at five months of age, Addie is already unspeakably cool. I gauge this how I gauge most things in my life-- how many accessories she has that have also been spotted as the accessories of celebrity babies.

For instance, I nearly peed my pants when I saw that she has the exact same blanket as Sandra Bullock's son:

 

 

Also, witness the awesomeness that is her having Sophie the Giraffe, just like whatever this child of Nicole Richie is named:

Clearly, Addie has more style and panache at five months than I managed to garner in all of my 31 years on this planet. Although let me give myself a little credit-- it's not as if she hand-picked these items herself (although to be fair, she actually received the Aden and Anais blanket as a gift from the awesome Denise Philipsen). Does this mean that I am just as stylish and au courant as Sandra and Nicole?

Obviously, yes. Not bad for a girl with a purse full of Hermans.

Excretion Excursion

Before Addie, it would have seemed unthinkable to go to work with another person's vomit on my shirt. Now, it's just a question of how much vomit is acceptable.

In the past five months, I have been pooped on, vomited on, and spat on. I have continued to wear pants soaked with another person's pee for a good three hours after the deed occurred, simply because I knew if I put on different pants they would just be besotted with some other bodily fluid. And once, while holding the baby over my head in the classic airplane pose, she vomited directly into my open mouth.

I was prepared, through years of bad sitcoms with babies tacked on at the end as a desperate ratings grab, for this sudden onslaught of excretions. But what I did not really expect was my total okayness with it. I gave up on burp cloths after the first day or two of Addie's life, too addled with exhaustion or fear of squeezing the baby too hard, a la Lenny's rabbit, to remember to keep one handy. It was what it was: I was going to reek of spoiled milk and pale urine for the foreseeable future.

Tonight, Addie blew a raspberry for the first time-- not just your run of the mill bubble blowing, but a full-on, pursed lip buzzing, leaving my face slicked with a patina of spit. And instead of being grossed out, or running for the washcloth, I just grinned. Because it's really hard to be disgusted by anything that comes from someone so cute. Not that her shit doesn't stink-- just that it's hers.

A mid-term report card

Addie had her four month well-baby check-up the other day, where we were updated on her latest stats-- at nearly eighteen pounds, she is in the 97th percentile for her weight, and at 25 inches, she's in the 67th percentile for her height. The doctor was impressed with her motor skills, particularly her ability to sit unsupported, something other four month old babies only lie around and dream about while they flail pointlessly on their tummy time mats. She also has a giant head for her age, which only goes to enhance my theory that she is some sort of Superbaby that will grow to enslave the entire human race (in the cutest way possible, of course).

So with these stats in mind, I thought I'd review her progress in some other areas as well:

Spoon feeding: B

She definitely gets the concept of spoon feeding. She lunges for the spoon like some sort of crazed lunatic, her mouth agape. It's what to do with the cereal once it is on-board that is the problem. Right now, her solution appears to be to shove it all out of mouth onto her bib with her tongue. But at least the fundamentals are there.

Bouncer Usage: A+

 One would think, watching Addie in action in her bouncer, that I had birthed some sort of weird, half-human half-rabbit, sort of like the one in Donnie Darko, only not terrifying or Patrick Swayze-killing.

Rolling over: B

She is so close to rolling over that I vaguely suspect she's already done it for the Day Care People, based on their very evasive answers when I ask about her progress. She hasn't yet pulled it off at home without our help, but if I find out she's been dogging it this whole time, she is in for a world of hurt. And by hurt in this context I really just mean hugs.

Crib sleeping: C-

Addie doesn't seem to know what to do with the extra room in the crib, so she compensates by rotating herself until she's laying across the width of the crib mattress as opposed to the length. Cute, but problematic down the road, as I'm assuming her future spouse won't be very appreciative of this particular sleep position.

Staying a tiny baby forever: F

No matter how much I explain to her that I need her to remain a teeny tiny baby for the rest of her life, Addie willfully continues growing and expanding her repertoire of skills. It's almost as if she intends to fully grow up and eventually leave my house one day. But I expect her to straighten out and stop growing any day now.