I now can’t wash my hands with soap if I’m planning to eat in the next couple of hours because the smell of the soap is abruptly overpowering and makes me sure that everything tastes soapy.
I still get the sudden and very strong urge to barf at times, but can combat it by imagining a smooth, cool stone. Don’t know where that came from, but it’s working!
Cricket called me “Mama” a couple of times during the visit, and it made me deeply uncomfortable. Officially I am “Mama Susie,” and I know that’s a bit of a mouthful for a toddler (he calls “Papa Book” “Pot”), but it bothers me in a way that I failed to anticipate.
Ruth just sent me a very sweet email saying that they’d like to have another visit this summer because Cricket seemed really interested in us. I’d like to think that this is because we are a hoot, but realize that there could be other factors at play. She talked about how he doesn’t act this way with most people, and I tend to assume that he’s this affectionate with everyone, so hearing that makes me feel weird. Ah, what a useful word.
I read the Sears’ big purple baby book after reading online review of diaper creams—I thought you only used it if there was a rash, but some reviewers clearly use it every time they change a diaper, so I decided to acquire more information on best practices. (My conclusion: they are probably using cloth diapers, which we won’t.) Next up is a book on infant massage, which I’m very interested it; I massage the Mister, and my mom and sisters when they’re around, so why not the baby?
My mother told me quite some time ago that baby gowns are essential, and I was skeptical. But now that I’ve been thinking more about diapers, it has started to make sense to me, and I found some cute ones online. . . .
My sister Kate sent a toy lamb and a set of girly socks when we thought it was a girl—when we got photos of the little lad, she sent boy-type socks. At this point, they’re hoping to visit at Thanksgiving and see a new nephew. I hope that works out.
According to my pregnancy books, the little bird can hear us now. I guess that means that I should cut down on the swearing . . . soon, anyway. I’ve also ordered the Mister to make a mix cd for the stomach/headphones treatment, since he and I like very different music.
I really like the idea of baby powder, possibly because I’ve seen too many ‘50s screwball comedies. It seems not super common now, though—is there any harm in it, as long as you use talc-free stuff?
Many thanks to Sarah and her friend Lynne (who creates them) for sending me a lovely linen ring sling—I so want to try it out with the cat, but he’s been on a bit of a vomity streak lately, and I also don’t have the heart to get cat hair all over it!
I hope all of you have something fun planned this weekend. Happy Independence Day!