My Lady of the Lantern

In case you are not aware, I just want to say that I have a major bone with the 'Am Fine' response. Of course, it can be true. Usually, it is misleading. I am fine. I am having trouble slipping into the rhythm of my workplace. I have been a part of that system since 2007, and yet when I rejoined, it feels like number of things have changed. People have changed, the 'game' has changed, the equations have changed. Lot of new people have come in, and they are completely untested waters for me. It seems people are working on auto-pilot.  We just wrapped up a workshop recently. It seems all the committees just did what they did without much help from the coordinator of the event. It is a good thing obviously, but it signals a change in tendency, that was not present before. I am fine. People have raced ahead of me. In terms of position, salary, number of publications, weight-carrying assignments on the resume. I feel a little lost. I am fine. There is a lot of catchin...

It had been a wake up (rinse-repeat) kind of a night. I left the bed at 5:30 am. It was still little dark outside. The baby appeared asleep, and hubby was half-asleep. I made my tea and did what I do on mornings. Hubby got up, got ready for the gym and left. I sat on the balcony, had my tea, wrote Figlia's diary, and read the newspaper. She woke up finally around 7 am, and I laid beside her, and closed my eyes. She went: "Oooba Oooobay Tuuucccchi Oooba Obay Buuuuu" Her soft hand reached my face. The fingers flitted ... cheek... nose... lips ...I do not think she had some specific touch-sequence in mind. A finger went up my nostril. I opened my eyes. Perfect morning. P.S. She does not usually go up the nostril really. (I can't see Lori's PM post yet...I will link to it, when I see her post go up.) Edited: More Perfect Moments are here ! Thank you Lori for linking me up! :-)

We survived an 8 o'clock birthday party on Friday night very well. 8 o'clock is a dangerous time because we (as in the girl) are ready to hit the bed at that time. Right on cue, at 1930, she gave out her first yawn. I was sure it would turn bad. I changed her into a romper, and gave her a bottle of milk. Then we went to the venue. She slept in the car, and remained so for the next 45 minutes. She woke up fresh, and was charming there. And she danced (sort of). We came home, and she was ready to go down, but she remained fidgety the rest of the night. But I am glad for the party, and a non-meltdown time of dinner eating for mummy and papa. - - - For all the nights post August 7th, Figlia has been exhibiting a new hobby - mummy as a human pacifier. I had used that trick on the night train on August 7th (to keep her calm), but she has picked it up so nicely, that she continues to demand me frequently during the night, even though she is now actually taking milk just once withi...

When I seat her on my lap, Figlia snakes her arm out of my hold and keeps her hand on mine rather than letting me keep my hand on hers. "Mama, I will hold your hand, you don't hold mine." My hand will always be there for her to hold.

And now, twa da dee dum dee da , Figlia is a) making gagging noises or b)turning her face away or c)pursing her lips for solids. She is still not eating lumpy texture food. And well, she puts everything in her mouth, except food. And things she was eating well before are now being refused. The girl refused applesauce last night, and cereal the night before. The daycare lady has also reported the same. It was only recently that we went from solids once a day to solids twice a day, and I was planning to make it thrice in next 10 days or so. I am hoping that this is just a passing thing. She has been drooling a lot again in the last couple of days, and has been licking her upper lip since Sunday, so I am thinking that if this is teething-induced, maybe the refusal will last only as long as the teeth finally make an entrance?

I was peculiarly struck by the suggestion that my struggle must partly arise from the fact that Figlia is a girl. That maybe, it would have been easier if Figlia had been a boy. The truth is that I have never thought of this before. I am acutely conscious of how almost-colliding their birthdays (Figlia's and CBub's) are, but the gender similarity never really bleeped so high in my consciousness. And not in terms of loss, but I was relieved to have a girl when Figlia came in my life. Again, not as a replacement to who I lost before, but the fact was that I always did want a daughter. Maybe the gender is also an undercurrent to what I feel. I never explored that before, till your words came to my post. Thank you.

Went to show Figlia to an ENT specialist last night. It's not milk, it is her snot. Figlia, as I have mentioned before (maybe?)  is a cold magnet. She catches colds easily. Good news, her ears are a-ok. They looked recovered. Better news, I do not have to give up feeding her from the bottle. Now if I could only scram and whip some super cold-preventing formula, that would be the best news. And the bright light? The very bright light? As in the shining bright light? So, the bright light? She went to sleep at 8:45 pm. I went to bed at 10:15 pm. I woke up in the night a couple of times, wondering if she was about to wake up too. She stirred, but did not wake up. The bright light? She asked for milk. I thought, in my fused-eyes state, that it must be 11:45 pm or 2:00 am milk she wants. The clock said 5:15 pm. She had slept 8:45 pm to 5:15 am. I could not believe myself. She took the bottle. I burped her, and she went to sleep! I have had the most relaxed morning...