A GOOD LUCK WEEKEND...

... is what we need.  The other day while talking with my sister on Skype, she commented that Biet's cheeks were really pink.  They're always like that, I told her, like a little doll!  Well, they were a little more flushed than usual and I didn't even realize that anything was going on until that night when she woke up nearly every hour crying.  Then the next morning Gaby couldn't get out of bed. Turns out we're sick. Blah.

We have been so incredibly blessed with Biet's ridiculously strong immune system that I've never had to go through many family sick days. One of us (usually me) might once in a while catch something, but never the whole family.  These sleepless nights paired with lousy appetites and a cranky & tired toddler have got us all on edge.  To top it off a dismal rain storm has washed over the city.  All Biet wants to do is roam outside with her runny nose and splash around in severely inappropriate shoes (she has become extremely opinionated about her wardrobe lately), and all Nico wants to do is refuse her walks and lay in bed all day (she is such a sissy when it comes to weather!).  I just keep telling myself that at least this is only a bad cold and not the dreaded super-flu that is sweeping the nation (knock on wood).

We'll be trying our best this weekend to find time in between baby-chasing and work to snuggle in bed under a million blankets with hot tea, chicken soup, and a neti pot.  I'm thankful that we have a couple of new box sets to listen to.  And I'm really thankful that we are getting this cold & flu season out of the way before baby boy arrives.  I can't even imagine a sick newborn thrown into the bunch!  Here's to feeling back on top.

BEAUTIFUL, BEAUTIFUL, BEAUTIFUL GIRL

After your dinner, and your bath, and your late night playtime on the bed with Nico... after you've been rocked and cuddled, and nursed and kissed, when you are on the delicate verge of sleep, you want just one thing. You're Papa's voice, singing that tune- that tune that you love and have come to need at the end of every single night- "Close your eyes, have no fear, the monster's gone, he's on the run, and your Papa's here..."

The original was written for a son, but your Papa has adapted it just for you..

"Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.... beautiful girl"

Lennon wrote it, but it has become yours.  Each night it guides you into your dreams, and each night you now expect it.  And I have a suspicion that it will remain yours long after you outgrow your crib, and long after you no longer fit in the crook of your Mama and Papa's arms.

I will forever remember the way you relax your head, slow your breath, and sink your weight into your Papa's chest, listening to him serenade you into the night.  You never let yourself fall fully into slumber until the last note of the last line has been sung. But then, you are peaceful, restful, content.  Our beautiful girl.

THIS MAKES FOR A HAPPY MAMA IN THE AFTERNOON

I realized that I had just finished an entire magazine article without being interrupted, and I knew that something was up. The house was silent. Calm.  So I peeked in and this is what I found. Two birds of a feather, passed out on the big bed. And that afternoon- well that afternoon was glorious. I did my hair and sat down on the couch to enjoy my lunch, alone and in peace, with a fashion magazine. You know, the sort of things that I took for granted before this whole motherhood thing happened. And just when I began to miss those sticky hands and slobbery baby kisses (Biet's) and loud music and laughter and bear hugs (Gaby's), I heard Papa and baby stirring in the bedroom. But that little break, well it changed my whole day. I'll take one every afternoon, please. 

*The winner of Monday's Urban Baby Bonnet's Giveaway is heatherington. Congratulations, lady! I'll keep my eyes out for your email!  petitebiet{at}gmail.com

A SHOULDER TO SLEEP ON

I remember the first time Gaby gave Biet a bottle.  She was just a few months old and we had been trying for ages to get her to drink from one.  I was pumping away each day, hoping that somehow the breast milk would end up in the tummy of my teeny tiny daughter.  But all day and all night, all this baby girl of mine wanted to do was to nurse nurse nurse, and she wouldn't let a synthetic nipple touch her pretty mouth.  So every morning I gave my pumped milk to another new Mama, whose brand new baby boy was having latch issues.  And Gaby watched as I fed our daughter meal after meal from my bosom, amazed and delighted at our strong nursing relationship, but also feeling a little sad about his powerlessness at fulfilling such a basic need of hers.  When she cried for milk, he could do nothing to console her, and it was hard on him.

Each week Gaby would come home with yet another bottle or fancy nipple to try, hoping that one of them might work. Every time he had to run to the store for a swaddle or diaper cover or baby accessory, he would come home with a new bottle and nipple set, guaranteed by the salesperson to work for fussy babies.  But they didn't work, not the glass bottles which I had dreamt of using exclusively, nor the plastic ones, nor the natural rubber nipples.  Not the wide mouth bottles nor the easy-flow ones nor the tilted ones.  Nothing.  She only wanted the real thing.  I was scheduled to return to work soon, and we were getting desperate.  

I told Gaby to stop buying bottles.  We had dozens spilling out of our cupboards. Nothing worked.  I was sure that Biet was simply too small; I hoped that she would take a bottle when she was ready, but that day never seemed to come.  We stopped trying for a while.  And then Gaby, who's never one to give up on anything, came home with this. And, to my astonishment, she drank the milk down.  She rested on her Papa, a wee little thing nestled into his forearm, and sucked away her warm milk until her eyes were closed and she was deep in slumber.  And oh Gaby's face.  He looked like he might cry and kiss her to death at the same time.  He was so proud, so accomplished, so selfless. He told me that the feeling of being able, finally, to nourish his daughter, to quench her hunger, to give her peace and satisfaction, was like nothing he had ever felt.  He was in heaven.  

Over the months, Gaby mastered his Papa duties one by one, each accomplishment bringing more fatherly pride than the last.  Swaddling, Dr. Karp's 5 S's, cloth diapering, co-showering, baby-wearing, food preparation, mealtime with solids, outfit-coordinating, playground etiquette, and singing her to sleep.  Biet came to prefer many of her Papa's ways over her Mama's, and now she really truly needs him- a lot of him. And I think the feeling is mutual.

When I peeked in Biet's room the other day and saw Gaby, sitting still in the big Victorian armchair with Biet's sleeping face plopped on his shoulder, I noticed that same expression on his face from the very first time he ever fed her.  He glanced over at me through the glass of the french doors and smiled a smile of compassion, serenity, victory, and love, all rolled into one.  His shoulder belongs to Biet now. To her it is the softest pillow in the world.  And I'm sure that no matter how many layers Gaby has on, that shoulder will never be quite warm enough without a certain little girl's head dreaming away on it. 

** the winner of the Gardner & the Gang giveaway is Rebecca O. Congratulations Rebecca! **

AN UPDATE

I want to say THANK YOU to everyone who wrote to me, in comments and emails, when I wrote about Biet's devastating fall the other day. It baffles me that so many lovely women took the time out of their day to write to me and share their personal experiences from raising their own children. This whole Mothering thing is beautiful & natural & empowering & really truly an honor- and also, at times, absolutely terrifying. It was so wonderful to read about other Mamas who have been there, and to know that their little ones continued to breathe and grow and thrive just fine. Thank you.

To update everyone on baby girl: she has completely healed, both in body and spirit. She was a bit out of sorts for a couple of days following the fall, eating and sleeping at irregular hours, and struggling to get comfortable in her sore body. It seemed that the only place she could truly relax was in her Mama's arms, so that's where she remained 90% of the time. It also took about three days for the last trace of blood to disappear from her little nose and for her to breath completely normally. But, alas, her little body mended itself, and her sleeping schedule regulated, and her smiles returned, and she seems to be doing just fine. She has actually developed in leaps and bounds since the fall {forming real words! clapping her hands!}, so much so that Gaby and I have been joking that the bump on the head might have done some good. :)

With eating, though, its almost as if Biet regressed back being a new infant again: all of her progress with solids went out the window, and she's back to getting most of her nutrition from breast milk. Nursing is just such a comfort for her. Although I'm not thrilled about waking up every couple hours all night to nurse her, I know that this is what I am here for: to Mother her as she needs and to provide her with all I can give. I try remind myself to be proud of the strong nursing relationship that we have built (even after her milk-free week), and to be grateful that I am able to nurse her. Every time I am abruptly awakened from sleep and have to groggily pull myself out of bed, I think about the fact that one day she will be grown- a little girl who doesn't want to nurse anymore. And I know that when that day comes, I will look back on this time fondly, as the precious and short period that it is, when all that my baby girl needed was right here within me.

She is sleeping in her crib once again (hurray!) so we don't have to worry about any more accidents. However, I suddenly realized that she has almost outgrown her mini crib! We are trying to decide what the next step should be: a regular sized crib, a toddler bed, a floor bed??  I would be so grateful to hear from any of you Mamas out there with experience in this matter..

..and on another note, if anyone has seen those little leather heart shoes in an adult size, please let me know.. every time I dress her I imagine how amazing (& comfortable) a big version of those little beauties would be..

THE HARDEST NIGHT

A couple of nights ago Gaby and I were laying in bed, slumbering to the sounds of the Brooklyn streets drifting up through the cracked window.  One giant dog lay sprawled across our feet and one snoring baby girl had meticulously wedged herself in between us, one arm across her Mama's face and one foot jabbed into her Papa's ribcage.  We've been co-sleeping since Biet's birth, and are used to a full bed, so this scenario is one you might find in our house just about every night.  Biet loves sleeping next to us, and while we love it too, it is becoming a little uncomfortable as she get's bigger and stronger. We are working on transitioning her into her crib, but she usually still ends up in our bed sometime before the morning arrives. On this particular night, my little sleeping monkey turned and twisted and  pushed me further and further over until I was nearly falling off the bed. Not comfortable. Not fun. So I decided to stuff a few pillows in my place and sneak out to the living room to do a little writing.

Just as I was getting into my project I heard Biet mumbling in her sleep and moving in the bed, so I got up to go check on everyone.  I stepped into the room, moved in the dark towards the bed, and- thud. I saw the hazy shadow of my precious baby's tiny body roll over the edge of the bed and slam onto the wooden floor. My heart stopped beating. I couldn't breath. I lunged towards the bed and scooped her into my arms, just as a strained ear-piercing scream broke through the sleeping silence in the room.

My baby. I hoped and wished with all my might that it was just a little bump. Please let it be just a little bump. We recently switched to a low bed, so it couldn't be too bad, right? Wrong. I held my baby close as she struggled to breathe through her stinging screams, moved into the light, and assessed the damage. And that is when my eyes too filled with tears. Blood spatters covered her face. Deep purple lines, already bruising, marked the bridge of her nose, which was streaming blood from both sides. Both her top and bottom lips were split.  My whole body tensed in shock and panic and painful compassion. Her eyes pleaded for me to make it all stop- to let her go back to the peaceful sleep in which she had been engulfed just moments earlier.

But I could not take away the pain. Gaby ran to the store for some baby tylenol (which she had never needed before this point) and I tried to nurse her and hold her and rock her until she calmed. I stared at her beautiful wounded face and felt, along with a profound sense of protection for my baby girl, intense and overwhelming guilt. I was not supposed to see my baby's blood. Ever. It belonged inside her perfect body, not out. Why did I leave her on the bed? Why hadn't I realized that she was big enough now to roll over the pillows? How did I let this happen to my baby?

After an intense nursing session, her screams turned to sobs, then to low squeals, and finally to heavy breathing. She remained in a sleepless state of confusion for many hours, unfamiliar and uncomfortable with the throbbing pain. We took a few showers together. I cleaned her up a bit. We contemplated going to the ER, but decided it would be best to wait and see. Her body seemed fine, but her face was just smashed. It broke my heart. I ended up staying up the entire night watching my baby girl, crying with her, crying over her, staring at her when she slept, protecting her when she couldn't sleep, holding her close, and loving her. It was a rough night. Just as the sun was coming up through the living room windows I snapped these photos of her..

To add insult to injury, her second top tooth peeked through the next day (her 4th tooth so far), and she broke out in her first case of hives (not certain whether they're from overall injury-related bodily stress or a reaction to the organic chicken soup I made- we're being cautious with meat now, though), so she has been in an enormous amount of pain. It is so incredibly hard to see your little one suffering. I am trying not to beat myself up about her tumble off the bed. I know there has to be that first fall, sometime. I just wasn't ready for it yet. That night was the hardest night I've had since Biet's birth. I am trying to learn from it and to be a better Mother because of it.Biet is a trooper if I ever saw one. Hours later, she was laughing through her tiny busted lips. A day later, she was eating normally and smiling and healing. And 48 hours after the fall (and countless baths later), her face is completely healed and her good spirits restored. If I could bottle the healing power of babies, I would be a gazillionaire. No scarring, no long term damage, no bad feelings. My strong and feisty girl is back. Gosh I love her. This is how she exclusively sleeps now- behind the wooden bars of her crib. Safe and sound.

The Weight

Of all of the things I tell myself I will never forget, of this one I am sure. I will remember, until Biet is a full-grown beautiful woman, until I am a grandmother, until my last days, the weight of my baby girl sleeping on my shoulder.

She has been nursing herself to sleep since her birth, so these past few milk-free nights have taken quite a bit of adjustment for our family. No more five-minute-and-she's-out nursing sessions at the end of the day. No more co-sleeping (waking up to a screaming half-asleep little girl trying desperately to nurse through your t-shirt is no fun for anyone). We've had to search for another way to gently ease Biet into sleep. And we finally figured it out. And it's glorious.

It goes something like this:
At the end of the day, Biet gets a meal & a bath, and we warm up a bottle. When she starts to get sleepy (cranky + rubbing her eyes), I swaddle her and rest her in the crook of my arm. If I'm lucky, she'll drink from the bottle, but sometimes she's too smart and looks at my shirt and cries, knowing that Mama has other milk. Eventually she eats, though, and after her belly is full, the real magic happens. I put her up against my chest with her head resting on my shoulder, walk around and around the darkened room, and begin to sing. I feel her relax & her head nestles into me, and then, she begins to join in. A little babble song of many notes emerges from baby girl's mouth as she tries to harmonize with me. Her voice get's loud & soft, high & low, and then, after about 10 minutes, fades to silence. She sings herself to sleep.

This works like a charm every time. She really sings herself into slumber. A few moments after her voice trails off, I quite literally feel her drift into dreamland. When she truly falls into deep sleep, her weight suddenly intensifies. One moment, you have a sleeping baby on your shoulder, and the next, a limp sack of potatoes crushing your back. And I love it. When I feel the weight change, I know that it is time to lay her down in her crib and that she will be calm. I will never forget that heaviness of my baby girl falling asleep on my shoulder. It is the feeling of her at peace, knowing that she is never alone.

Here is Biet just after falling asleep on Gaby's shoulder the other afternoon. **Gaby deserves for credit for inventing the naptime-shoulder-lullaby**

a Lunch Date

The Mister, the Misses, and the baby headed out today for a little family lunch date in the East Village {goodness do I miss the East Village!}, at a peaceful little café called The Hummus Place. Baby girl's newfound love of hummus (rivaled only by her father's) may have had a little something to do with our choice of eatery. They serve, hands down, the best hummus in NYC. As we sat by the window on this gloriously warm January day, exchanging crazy apartment-roaming stories from our single days, I felt an intense wave of reassurance. It was the sense of feeling at home, safe and sound. In a little cafe on a little street in a big city, I felt at home, and at ease, because of my family. It's not often, these days, that we venture out leisurely together, especially out to lunch! It was so nice to spend this time with them and forget the rest of the world for a few moments. Biet slept through the whole thing (at her favorite restaurant- go figure!) so we ordered some hummus to-go for her, which she devoured for dinner. She wore a fat happy smile for the rest of the night. I can't wait for our family's next lunch date!

A Restful Night

Biet has yet to "sleep through the night," and I'm ok with that. She wakes every few hours, cries out for the warmth and satisfaction of a midnight snack, and then falls back into slumber. I plan to let her wake as much as her little body needs until she's able to sleep for a good stretch, and I try not to complain about it. I figure that a new, slightly less comfortable, sleep schedule sort of comes with the territory of parenthood. Being her Mother, and the only one in the house capable of nursing her, I am always the one to run to her (or roll over in the bed towards her) when she cries, and help her get back to sleep.  I was certain that this was the only way to soothe her. Until Gaby swooped in with his amazing Papa skills.

I was up working the other night after Gaby and baby girl had gone to bed (I often use the end-of-the-night hours to squeeze in a bit of "me time") when, right on schedule, a sleepy high-pitched wail began to ring out from the bedroom. She was hungry, or so I thought. I quickly put away the laptop and headed towards the bedroom door. But before I could open it, I heard a deep sleepy Papa voice speaking in spanish. Then a spanish lullaby, and then... silence. Impossible! I couldn't believe that, for the first time, baby girl had gotten back to sleep with neither nursing nor rocking. I peeked in, and this is what I found:

Two sleeping beauties, snuggling together like a puzzle. Gaby had gotten her back to sleep like a pro. Looks like my nights may soon become a bit more restful. I had to sneak back in with a camera. It took all I had to refrain from waking them, squeezing them tight, and telling them how much I loved them both. I really love these two to pieces. 

Good Morning Brooklyn

We have arrived. All four of us.  And we are safe and happy and exhausted and adjusting to new routines in our new neighborhood. Hello Brooklyn! You are quite something. You seem a bit rough and tumble from afar, but are so very different up close. You may not have as many skyscrapers as Manhattan, but your buildings are ancient and quaint (with nice BIG apartments inside). Your parks are lush, your streets narrow, your skyline expansive, your people loud, and your pride palpable. You have hustle and bustle, and quiet neighborhoods too. We landed somewhere right in the middle. You also have flea markets & farmers markets & horses & beaches & elevated subways & docks & every kind of food imaginable. I am just getting to know you, Brooklyn, but so far I think I like you.

Our short journey here from across the river was comically disastrous. Beginning with our belongings not fitting into the 17 foot truck we rented and ending with the elevator being broken upon our arrival.  In between, another moving truck smashed into us on the Bowery and shattered the window on me (luckily, baby girl and her Papa weren't riding with me), it started raining, and our new apartment wasn't quite finished being renovated. We are just now beginning to laugh at it all.  All I can say is THANK YOU DEAR FRIENDS. An army of our amazing friends showed up at our place on moving day morning, coffees in hand, and jumped right in. They carried all of our furniture and boxes, took care of Biet & Nico, and kept our spirits high through each unforeseen setback. We quite literally could not have done it without them. We are so grateful to have such an amazing family of friends in the city. 

Now we've been here a week. The apartment is slowly coming together, and the blog is back up and running (it was on hold for a while due to switching internet providers & losing/packing the computer charger).  My favorite thing about our new space, so far, is the sunlight. The sun pours in from the big Brooklyn sky into every room of our apartment. It makes me want to take photographs all day. And it is simply lovely to wake up to in the morning.  I think baby girl feels the same way.

Chub Chub

I'm lying here in the afternoon, trying to get a bit if rest in before heading out with the family to see more apartments. I just looked over at my nap time partner and marveled at 1.how beautiful she's getting & 2.how chubby she's grown! Her cheeks are puffy little pillows & her arms look like chorizo's! I am kind of truly amazed that my body is capable of not only growing and birthing a tiny human, but also fattening her up so perfectly. My favorite little Chub Chub...

Hurricane

Hurricane Irene rumbled through our beloved city last night, bringing howling winds and pounding rain to our doorstep. Gaby, Biet, Nico, & I cooked a big meal and snuggled in the bed of our little tenement apartment. Of course we first moved the bed away from the windows, taped the window panes, filled a supply of water bottles, and stocked the house with food & batteries & candles. Then we turned on the projector, watched an old movie, and listened to the storm. I thought of my late Grandmother throughout the long, loud, night. Her name was Irene.

The morning came and, happily, we found that we had evaded disaster (more or less). The tree across the street had split down the middle (Gaby freaked out when he heard the wood splitting at 4 in the morning) & the top 2 floors of our apartment building had flooded (our poor neighbors!), but no one was hurt. Thank goodness. Now we have a house FULL of food, and a city that is quieter than I've ever seen it. The streets are deserted. It's kind of really beautiful.

Biet slept just fine through the storm. She's been through her first earthquake & first hurricane in the same week! I began snapping photos of her this morning & managed to catch the moment when she first awoke. She is so happy first thing in the morning! I think she gets this from her Papa (he is a bit more of a morning person than myself). It was lovely to see her steely blue eyes (those she gets from me) & chubby little smile, so simple and joyful, after such a long stressful night. I am so grateful today that my family and my city is safe.

These are the Moments I LOVE

Naps

Once in awhile, in the afternoon, we open up the bedroom windows wide, call Nico onto the bed, put on a record, and take a nap. Biet usually lays on Gaby's chest. My very favorite is napping during a summer thunder storm, like today. The rumbling of rain & hail fills the apartment, the street noise is drowned out, and we rest, safe & warm, on our bed, as a family.

Baby + Dog = Joy

Dreaming Baby

Nico & Biet

Baby girl & Nico like to take naps together on the bed by the window. Nico dreams of the day when Biet's little hand will be able to throw a ball. Biet dreams of riding Nico across the Central Park countryside. I imagine that one day we'll look at these and marvel at how small she was. But for now we just enjoy these afternoon moments.