Will today be the day?

Every day I get up and think, "This is going to be the day where I take charge of what goes on." Every day I am wrong.

The Fastest Three Months of My Life

Look at those cheeks. She slays me.

Millie is three months old today. I can't believe it's been three months since she was plopped onto my chest all covered in vernix. How she knew immediately how to breastfeed. This little tiny mouth going straight for me with no training, no instruction, no diagrams on a chalkboard. Just instinct. Granted, we both got better as time went on, but from the start, she just got it. We have done it in some unorthodox places that my father would stroke out over-UConn reference library, downtown Manchester, the middle of a meadow off a hiking trail, countless Dunkin' Donuts parking lots- but that's the beauty of it: using the girls for good rather than evil. As exhausting as the first two months were of the hour-long nursing sessions every two hours, it is now among my favorite times of the day and night. Taking a break from the day, watching her get semi-frantic as I don't get my boob out nearly as fast as she'd like it, seeing her eyebrows raise as she gets those first few mouthfuls, finding her eyeballing me while sucking followed by the corner of her flanged lips turning up in an arched semi-smile. At night, rolling over and watching her in the dim of the nightlight cuddle up close and find her way to attaching without opening her eyes. There is nothing like it. I count my blessings that I have been able to do it with such ease. It's not for everyone, but it has been one of the highlights of the last three months.

Sweet release.

So, after all that fuss about to binkie or not to binkie, she found her thumb this week. It doesn't always stay in the way she'd like, but it's getting there. Nice SIDS shot, eh? She has been turning over from her belly to her back for a few weeks now, but this past week she started occasionally flipping from her back to her tummy (I TOLD you she was advanced). She was on her stomach for some tummy time while Iain and I were trying to straighten out the Christmas tree in the stand. I heard silence, a change from her normal John McEnroe grunting during tummy time, and looked over to see her sacked out on her stomach with her thumb blissfully in her mouth. She slept like that for 2 1/2 hours. Unheard of without being held. That night she did it again on the play mat and slept for 3 hours. Of course, I was completely paranoid she'd die of SIDS on her tummy right in front of us. But not enough that I turned her over. Bad parent.

Binkie=Bad Mom?

Okay, I finally gave in. Millie has been exhibiting quite the oral fixation lately. She's a pretty sharp little one, but can't quite keep the thumb in the mouth yet. Shoves the entire fist in to the point of gagging herself, which is always fun to listen to while she's strapped into the carseat in the back of the Subaru. Vomit or fist? She could not calm down two nights ago, chomping on her cold, wet hands, sleeves drenched up to her elbows, and flailing, flailing, flailing. Getting more and more pissed off. I gave the pacifier a shot and by God, it worked. Like a freaking charm. She literally melted into my arms and her eyes went half-mast within minutes. She actually slept in the pack and play for almost an hour before waking up-UNHEARD OF!!!! As she drifted off, I calmly explained to her, my 11 week old who I'm sure took in each and every logical argument I presented, that this was for her own good and begged her not to think I was a lazy, bad mom. Am I? Please just lie to me and tell me it's acceptible. Just like co-sleeping. The things I swore I'd never do. All down the toilet.

On the upside, she saw her first snow flakes this morning. Nothing major, just lake effect snow showers, but still. I wish Iain had been home. I threw a hat on her and wrapped her in a blanket and ran out onto our rickety second floor balcony, risking plunging to our collective deaths in the name of the snowflake. I tried so hard to get a picture that features both Millie AND the snow. I failed (see above left picture). She looked damned cute anyway (see above right picture).

No sleep till Brooklyn

How can I be so tired? I nursed Millie last night lying down and we both fell asleep at 8:30. She only got up to eat at 11 and 2 and then started stirring at 3:30 and we both kind of drifted from then until 6:30. I held her for a while to calm her tummy, but slept, actually slept, to the point of dreaming for a good 5 hours combined. I dreamed that I was in a hotel carrying baggage, trying to find my room, to no avail. I passed a wedding reception, people eating fruit salad that I thought looked tasty, elevators that I couldn't get to work. I finally found my room and it still had someone else's dirty towels and sheets. Freud, I'd like a reading on that one. God, did I spell Freud right? It does not look even close to correct.

We went to downtown Manchester's holiday celebration today with some friends and their kids. It was nice to talk to other adults, besides each other, of course. Millie, in her brilliance, slept through the opportunity to sit on Santa's lap. She's her mama's kid. The santa wasn't the creepy mall-Santa pedophile I anticipated, but we still didn't feel like waking her up, taking her out of the Bjorn and plunking a 2.5 month old down on a stranger's lap. Me, who has a fit when random strangers feel the need to touch her without permission. No, thanks. Maybe some other time. Or not. Tomorrow we go tree shopping in southeastern Connecticut with Iain's sister and her son, boyfriend and his daughter. I love Christmas.