My Crib is Rockin'

Ruby had her first cold! Daddy stayed home with her and decided she needed a hat for her fever. When I came home at lunch, I took a picture of my gangsta baby.

Next Month, Calculus!

This month Ruby learned to smile, laugh, move her hand to her mouth and bat at items. She slept through the night more often than not.

An interesting fact, at this point, babies have no concept of object permanence. If you hide an object under a blanket, they won't look for it because, once out of view, it ceases to exist. Having said that, Ruby cares not at all when I cease to exist after dropping her off at daycare.

Its Whats for Dinner

I wondered why Bumbo was talked about by all the recent parents we met until Ruby started using it. We put her in it probably too soon, but she didn't mind. Since Ruby is not a fan of swings, it was hard to find something for her to do while we eat dinner. We stuck her in the Bumbo and she loved it, therefore earning us dinnertime peace. There isn't really anything for her to do in it, so I'm not sure I understand its appeal. Still, I'm not going to argue its success.


After Ruby outgrows it, what can we use it for?

A realtor, a mother-in-law and tree rat

A realtor, a mother-in-law and a almost dead baby squirrel... Unfortunately, that's not the start of a joke, it was my Monday this week. I decided to invite my realtor over to look at my house. I want to sell it next year or so. I decided I would get her opinions on what improvements I need to make so I can start working on them. Ruby was hungry Sunday night, so I winded up getting up several times to feed her. I was so tired Monday morning, I decided I only needed 30 minutes to straiten up the house before she showed up at 10:00.

Once I dragged my lazy self out of bed and got Ruby fed, I placed her on her tummy time mat and started straitening the house. Picasso had been doing something annoying which I can't remember so I locked him outside. Suddenly, I heard what sounded like a fire engine on my back porch. I opened the door and looked around for what was making the noise. Picasso ran in and I concluded it must have been him, but couldn't figure out why he had made such a crazy sound. As I put away some stuff downstairs I let out an undignified girly scream. A hairless baby squirrel was in the middle of my living room carpet. I'm no real estate expert but I can't imagine that is a plus when showing a house. I examined the squirrel and determined that Picasso's teeth marks were not life threatening but the squirrel must have fallen from the tree because it looked like it might have a broken leg and other injuries. Deciding that the mother squirrel is a much better squirrel doctor than myself, I picked up the creature with a plastic bag and started to take it outside when I heard Ruby screaming.

Running to the nursery holding a probably germ ridden baby squirrel, I noticed she had learned a new trick of scooting backward and had managed to wedge her head on a pillow she had been propped on. I immediately adopted a new parenting philosophy "If they cryin' they ain't dyin'" and continued on my way to take the baby squirrel outside. I placed it under a likely tree and ran inside to get Ruby and wash my hands (in opposite order). I grabbed Ruby and she immediately quit crying (that girl doesn't know how to hold a grudge) allowing me to hear the doorbell. Crap crap crap. The realtor is here and my house is a cluttered mess. Oh well, a bra on a dresser and some boardgames on the floor don't change a house price and perhaps improve it in some markets.

Realtor took my flustered appearance in stride as I babbled about a scary baby squirrel and not suffocating baby. She had very little we have to change. She advised painting our cabinets so they won't be white and painting our shower so it won't be gold. Interesting.

As we were taking the tour, I hear the air conditioner quit working. 'sigh' In this heat (for those of you not in Bham, it's been over 100 degrees for a week now) the circuit trips occasionally. I try to tell realtor what I want in the next house while also thinking about the poor baby squirrel I need to check on and that I need to reset the air conditioner. While starting my kitchen requirements (very important I might add), there is a knock on the door. My mother-in-law is here unannounced (again) towing my 2 year old niece who has been promised she can hold baby Ruby. Since Ruby is asleep in the crib at this point I try nicely and not so nicely to kick them out, but they promise to stay out of the way and go to look at Ruby. My realtor leaves me to my company so I don't get to finish my bratty house list. Drat!

I am not as nice as my realtor so I ignore my company and go check on the squirrel. The mama squirrel is at the base of the tree and runs back up. The baby squirrel is still there. I had left the baby squirrel on the plastic bag to keep it from ants. Maybe that frightened her or maybe she decided it s a goner. I take it off the plastic bag and leave it on some bark. I'll check on it after I kick out the visitors and restart the AC.

One restarted AC and kicked out visitors later, I hop on instant messager and bemoan the baby squirrel's plight to my friend that we will call "Scary Mad Scientist (SMS)". Unfortunately, I didn't save the conversation but here is a gist.

SMS: Does it help if you think of it as a tree rat?
me: uh, no.
SMS: Well, it took me awhile to get used to killing them when I started this job.

Ah, yes! I forget SMS is a monster who experiments on rats for very little money! Awesome!

me: OK, How do I do it?
SMS: Shovel to the neck.

SMS goes on to describe a mouse guillotine used at work that will give me nightmares. I head out to the newly dubbed tree rat, shovel in hand, heavy of heart. Will this help or hurt my karma? The squirrel is still there. Ants have started crawling on it. Time to do it in. Wait! It's not breathing! Yippeee! Oh wait, curb inappropriate first response. I meant, oh the poor thing, it didn't make it. I shovel it into a bag and place it in our new garbage can. I really hope those garbage men think it looks like the one that got repoed because dirty diapers and a dead squirrel won't be pretty after a week or so. Hell, they aren't pretty now.

Can I go back to work now? Please?

Come on Baby, Don't Fear the Repo

Saturday we were getting ready for my brother's 30th birthday party when Picasso barked at the window. After throwing him in time-out (our dogs get sophisticated punishments), we realized he had barked at some men running up our driveway to steal our trashcan. We watched helplessly as they drove off in a Budget Rent a Truck. After staring for a second in disbelief, I called my brother-in-law who is a cop and asked him what I should do if my garbage can was stolen. He decided I should report it since it could be a ring of identity thefts. We let Picasso out of time-out and told him he was a good boy. Now we have a really confused dog. I then jumped in my car and tried to find the truck but it was long gone.

I called our local Sheriff who sent out a nice cute patrolman who liked our trashcan protecting dog. He explained that he had heard of missing trashcans before and couldn't remember the outcome but thought that the trash cans had not actually been stolen. I remembered that my neighbor had been looking for a trash can a few weeks ago and walked next door to see what the outcome had been.
My neighbor explained that he had chased down the garbage truck that day and found out they had accidentally dropped his trashcan into the truck. (I don't know why they didn't stop and tell him, but I would have liked to seen my seventy something year old neighbor face down the garbage man.) I mentioned our plight to the neighbors and they were discussing buying shredders for their mail when I left.

As I came back to my house to tell the Sheriff, I saw that he had pulled over a Budget rent a truck on my street. That's good police work! He came back to the house and informed us (quite nicely) that the driver was a repo man and had written authorization to take our trashcan since we had not paid our trash bill. This might be a good time to point out that my husband is in charge of the bills and never even knows what day of the week it is. I went next door and informed my neighbors that there was no need to run to Staples.

Karen and I promptly went to Lowe's and purchased a similar looking trashcan. They were fooled and took our trash that week. Jamey did, however, also send in the bill.

Ruby weighed in at 10.15 lbs. She was 23.25 inches and her head was 15.25 inches.

Length = 95th percentile
Weight = between 50th and 75th percentile
Head Circumference = 75th percentile

I found this amazing considering how giant her head looks to me. Then, I looked at daycares and saw some of those 95% head babies.

She also got 4 shots and some oral vaccinations and was super good for them. She yelled for shots 2-4, but stopped as soon as they were over.

Most important in her progress is that she has learned to smile!