I’m ignoring the fact that it’s been 3+ months since my last post. I’m also ignoring the fact that I haven’t recorded any — as in, NOT EVEN ONE — of Rose’s baby events & that pretty much makes me awesome. And by awesome, I mean not awesome at all.

This week, Rosebud will be 10 months old. TEN MONTHS. She continues to be the best baby on the entire planet. She sleeps 12 hrs a night plus 2 naps. She’s ridiculously happy, especially considering my & Bobby’s angsty tendencies.

*Sidenote: the following is a recent conversation with my father

Daddy: Rose really is a miracle baby.
Me: Yeah, we waited a long time for her.
Daddy: No, I’m not talking about the miscarriages. I’m talking about her┬átemperament. It’s a miracle she’s that happy, considering who her parents are.

That man has a way with words.

She has 6 teeth — 4 on top & 2 on bottom. She has yet to be struck with the dreaded stranger anxiety, greeting each person with equal amounts of enthusiasm. She goes from lying to sitting by herself easily, claps & waves. She rocks on her hands & knees, but hasn’t quite figuring out how to put it in “drive”… when she needs to go somewhere (namely, to harass the living crap out of Oscar), she rolls or pulls herself along by her little chubby baby arms. At her 9-month appt, she was 19lbs, 13oz & in the 60th-something percentile for height & weight. She says “dadadadada,” “nananana” & “bababababa” with the occasional “mamamama” thrown in… her doting Aunt Jennifer thinks that she’s using these intentionally, but I think she’s making noise indiscriminately. She’s recently discovered the power of a baby tantrum & has taken to arching her back, straightening her arms & legs, & screeching like an animal when she disapproves. This past week, I could be mistaken but I think she tried to bite me. I took something away from her & she opened her little baby mouth & rammed her baby chicklet teeth into my hand in a ferocious manner. She eats solids — the basic pureed baby stuff, puffs, veggie crunchies, rice wafers, & pea-sized bites of anything Bobby & I eat that’s “gummable” (ie. pizza, cheese, pasta, cooked vegetables, raisins, bread)… anything’s fair game except nuts & shellfish. She drinks out of straws — has her own sippy cup, but prefers to slurp out of the adult cups.

There’s a million more things, of course… the way she cocks her head while she’s examining something, or how she “sings” (aka, howls in a unmelodic monotone) with Jack Johnson, or how she loudly squawks like a baby dinosaur until everyone around us either laughs or is annoyed. There’s the little tufts of hair that are starting to curl over each ear, & how she picks up her bib after I fasten it around her neck & examines it so closely her eyes cross. Her personality is coming through more & more each day… it’s overwhelming to even list all the things that make her the one & only Rosebud.

So ok then, I guess that pretty much covers the last 10 months.

And then there’s me. I haven’t lost weight. Or joined the YMCA. Or quit spending vast amounts of money on Rose’s wardrobe. Or begun cleaning my house regularly (or at all). Or quit being the sketchy friend who probably won’t return your calls. Meh. Everybody needs at least one sketchy friend, right? I’m here to help with that.

The baby dinosaur is raising holy hell in her crib, so I gotta go.

Madam Sweet Cheeks