Yelena's first Mercedes

Thanks to Avis, Yelena is driving in style.

The best baby ever

Last year when I was pregnant, a woman I sat next to at Seder said about children, "If you expect them to be bad, they will be. If you expect them to be good, they will be better than you ever imagined." Yelena has definitely proved that adage true. She is the best baby ever.

Our flight left Chicago 3 hours past her bedtime and she didn't sleep in the airport or more than a few hours on the plane to Heathrow, yet she didn't cry at all and was super smiley, charming the airline staff and delighting us the whole way. She did cry on descent into Spain, which is totally understandable given her little ears and her having slept about 3-4 hours during the same amount of time in which she would typically sleep 10-12. Then she waited patiently while we sorted out our lost luggage fiasco, got the rental car, drove through congested Madrid traffic and checked in to the hotel in Aranjuez. Even in the hotel room when she was on Chicago time and wanted to play and we desperately wanted to sleep and put her in her crib, she cooed and kicked rather than crying and wailing -- which is what I wanted to do.

There was no clock in our hotel room in Aranjuez, most probably because it was adjacent to a casino, and Yelena and I didn't get down to serious sleep until about 3:30 AM, so we accidentally slept until noon. Ah, the drawback of the black-out shade. We then drove down to Malaga, about a 5 hour drive, stopping a few times for nappy changes, nursings and lunch at a roadside tapas bar where tiny morsels of ham were sprinkled on just about everything. (Welcome to the Land of Pig.) Now, this is a baby who typically does not enjoy the car and was in a different, less ergonomic car seat than usual. She was wonderful. I sat in the back, navigating and entertaining her for the duration of the drive.

When we got the the Malaga airport (which was crazy busy at 7:30 PM, whereas the Madrid airport was empty at 6:00 PM, go figure) to pickup Tony, we sat in the car for an hour while Eli went to find him. (Eric was supposed to meet us there, but was unable to make his train from Madrid to Malaga because he got stuck in France -- at a few different train stations! -- due to the protesting students taking over train stations. He did arrive safely at 11:00 PM, after many a debacle. We have all earned our massages.) Finally, when we were leaving the parking lot she had a tiny melt-down, was nursed and napped for most of the almost hour drive to the hotel.

We've always known Yelena has a great temperment, but this proves it. It also proves my theory that love is the constant that makes babies thrive. She was in new environments, jet-lagged, under-slept and with no semblance of a schedule, yet she was perfectly content. So many parents are obsessed with getting their baby on schedule and following it like they were Swiss, both them and their offspring panicking at the slightest interuption, as if life always sticks to a schedule, but I think over-rigorous scheduling -- like flooding your children with material possessions -- is a substitute for the loving attention children need. Yelena wasn't where she usually was doing what she usually does when she usually does it. But her Mommy and Daddy were there and attentive and that's all she wants.

Dr. Sears: 1; Schedule Nazis: 0

Safe and sound in Spain

We made it safely to the south of Spain. At least the three of us did. My luggage, which contained all of my and Yelena's clothes, spent a night in Heathrow, then a taudry night in Madrid. Allegedly, it is downstairs at reception where Eli is retrieving it while procurring croissants. We were just making our way down south yesterday, but it was very embarrassing to be wearing the same baggy pants, nursing sweater and -- horror of horrors -- my white running shoes in public. Eli found it amusing since, when packing, I spent time debating which shoes to wear since nothing screams American like sneakers worn off the tennis court.

The sky is blue, the sun is bright and we can see the sea from our apartment here. Life is good.

Look ma, no chest

This isn't the best photo, but it proves that Yelena can push herself up. Whoee, gross motor development at long last!

Today she was discovering how high she could push her vocal range. Everytime she let out a higher, more piercing shriek she smiled. My ears are still buzzing. If anyone is putting on a production of Die Zauberflote, have I got a Queen of the Night for you. Although she's still working on the coluratura bit.

Top heavy

Yelena has a big head. She is now sitting up for extended periods of time and rolling over, but her head has impeded this process. Her buddy, Zev, who is one week older, is crawling and pulling himself up and doing all manners of acrobatics. It's quite impressive. However, he doesn't have a big head. He is lean and lanky. Yelena is rolly polly. We got a picture of them together at Purim, although neither were too keen on the photo op. Yelena went as a skate punk, since I realized about 15 minutes before we left that a complete lack of costume might mark me as a negligent mother. Pink converse, a t-shirt with attitude, a hoodie and, presto, a skate punk with a big head.

Feline lymphoma

Cheru has low to intermediate stage lymphoma. We start him on chemo tomorrow: two pills at home rather than taking him into the hospital every week. Allegedly, he should respond well to this treatment and may even live out his normal life expectancy, especially since he is still eating and acting normally. I'd write more, but I'm still in shock and writing about it means processing it and I'm standing at the corner of denial and depression right now.

I sit up with a little help from my boppy

Our little seven month charmer is sitting up unassisted for up to 20 seconds at a time before she flops over. She lasts much longer with the boppy. Here is a picture of her mid-topple. For some reason she finds it amusing.

Friday night she was up way past her bedtime at a friend's house for Shabbat dinner. We decided that there's no point to a routine if it's not broken every so often. Everyone there was very familiar to her and she had a great time. It was one of the rare occasions in which she wore a dress. We won't be doing it again for a while. Personally, I like wearing skirts and dresses but I am realizing what completely impractical garments they are for the smaller set. All the safety belts on strollers and car seats go up the middle so she ends up with uncomfortable bunched up skirt, flashing the world her diaper. Ditto the Bjorn. And when crawling begins, a dress is nothing but a trip hazard. (And, as my friend Sondra pointed out today, you can't see her knees when she practices her shimmy.) She has to wear tights since it's cold; if I'm going to put 2-3 garments on her, then I'm just going to put her in practical pants. People like seeing little girls in dresses. Sure, she's as pretty as a picture, but she's pretty darned cute in pants, too.

Intermittent signs of teething continue, but nothing breaking the gums yet.

Solids are continuing well, with a few new added foods. Tonight we met Tony and Eric at The Heartland for an Espana plenary session, since Eric leaves on his solo tour of the Lowlands and France on Saturday, and I gave Yelena a few pieces of mushed up avocado. Divine buttery orb of yumminess.

She's doing cool stuff with her hands, helping turn the pages of board books and picking things up with her thumb and forefinger. She's our little fine motor girl. She's also making some cool new sounds and it's getting easier to distinguish her happy sounds from her pissed off sounds from her I-just-made-a-poopy-isn't-that-funny sounds. She also has fabulous fits of giggles and loves getting and giving kisses.

Holy Unwholesome, Catman

Of all the unsavory things I've done, I think shoving a suppository up my cat's bum ranks pretty high. If this weren't humiliating enough for me, imagine how Cheru feels right about now, isolated in the guest bedroom with a litter box and a chunk of glycerin up his poop chute, ready to blow any minute.

Yup, tomorrow the big guy goes in for his endoscopy. We could have taken him in tonight and let the professionals give him his high colonic, but I loathe staying over night in hospitals so I imagine an animal who doesn't understand anything except being away from home and the stink of fear would hate it, too.

This diagnostic process ain't cheap, neither. But with all the stupid things on which we've spent money over the years, how can we begrudge shelling out for our little buddy's health? I just hope they figure out what's going on and how to fix it. Perhaps there's a nest of dental floss in his gullet, or a fibroid kitten.

Back in the cereal again

Not very bloggy, sorry. In brief:

• In the immortal words of The Tick, "Spoon!" Our little utensil refusnik ended her hunger strike earlier this week and is back to accepting victuals non-boobie. Applesauce is the golden elixir that tempted her back to the spoon and she is back to cereal and some veg, with varrying degrees of enthusiasm.
• Yelena graduated to her big girl car seat. She is traveling first class in the Britax Boulevard. It sure is cushie, much nicer than our car (sorry Bernie), and we can tell Yelena appreciates the view and comfort over her infant car seat. Yet, I miss the ease of plopping the infant car seat in the Snap and Go and not having to wake a sleeping child. Oh well.
• Yelena had her first swim class Monday! Eli left work early to join us this one time. Yelena seemed to like it -- no tears or objections -- and was so cute kicking in the water.