The Fine Art of Conversation

Baby Brigid slept in the crib again last night, only for a nap as opposed to starting there for the night. But she didn't stir, didn't jump up or start when I placed her down, so maybe she is starting to adjust to being put down when she's sleeping. I don't want to jinx it, or anything, but it's a significant accomplishment.

She has taken to communicating by using a odd kind of calling sound. She will just start calling out loud. If you call back, she continues. Sometimes she seems to have a huge oxygen reserve that helps her just call and call and call. It's funny. She's not distressed; she's not angry or upset in this sound. She just seems to like the way it sounds, especially if you do it back. Babbling has taken on conversational proportions, too. Maaamaaamaadahhhdaaahaddaablah blah blah (really. she's saying blah blah blah. That's not my editorializing). She started a little bababa this morning, though I'm not sure if it can be an official entry into her vocabulary. It sounds like she's trying to have a conversation with you and she'll pause after saying something, so I'll respond in kind and she picks up the strands of conversation and starts again. Brigid also enjoys a good squeal now and then, and sometimes she surprises herself with the force of her squeals. She'll let one out then her face gets all surprised, like, "Ooh, did that come out of me?" Then she'll do it again as if to confirm her observation.

Yesterday, she also started doing this growly, grunting kind of sound. At first, I thought she was straining at stool, as they say in gastrointestinal terms. But that wasn't it. She was just growling. She did it quite a bit yesterday and even Jack mentioned it when he was holding her last night after he got home from work. We were watching Grey's Anatomy and Brigid was standing on the end of the couch, holding on to the arm of the couch for support, and was alternating between her grunty-growly thing and her calling out loud thing. She was bouncing and smiling, very proud in her communication skills. It made it very hard to listen to the dialog on Grey's. Thank goodness she decided she wanted to nurse, or we'd never know what Meredith said to McDreamy or what McDreamy said to Addison when McSteamy walked out of the steam-filled bathroom. It's true: you can't talk when your mouth is full. But you can still grunt.

Is It Real or Is She Just Using Crib Notes?

We've had a few milestone nights lately: Brigid has been put to sleep in her crib. She's been asleep at the time, so it's not like she's putting herself down to sleep, but she hasn't popped right back up again, either. Monday night, she slept in the crib about 45 minutes; Tuesday night, about an hour; and last night, she spent three hours asleep in her crib before waking up to feed. However, her eating is back to an every-two-hour schedule. I timed it, looking at the clock every time she stirred and cried out. I told myself at 4 a.m. today that it's the only way I'm going to get any sleep at this point, at least until we can gut the computer room and make it her room.

The last couple of mornings Jack has taken her to the lake to tend to the horses and Jenny hasn't been able to sit for us. Yesterday, he brought BB to my office and she sat in her stroller playing with her toys while I finished up. I had to nurse her, too, and that's hard to do as I type. I put her on the floor in the outer office and she crawled around for a minute, happily going from my door to the other door until I went and moved her back again. Her crawling is getting better and stronger and more focused all the time. But it seems to be the means to the end, and that is to get her some place where she can pull herself up to a stand.

Jack brought the high chair down from the attic and cleaned it up best he could for her to sit in while we eat. She plays in it pretty well but gets tired of the whole thing eventually. But at least it gives us time to eat. The chair itself is a little worse for wear. It was new for Margaret, so it has survived the wars of two children's eating habits. We really need a new one because I fear this one may give out and come crashing down if anyone puts too much pressure on the tray while Baby B is sitting in it, but so far, it's holding up.

Speaking of putting pressure on things, Margaret had a melt down yesterday when I pressed the idea of karate. She had homework and had only been home a short time before I told her it would be time to change into her gee. She said she was feeling stressed out with so much to do. I told her if she didn'tgo to karate then, she could go tonight or Saturday but she had to go this week. She wants to take flute, and is very excited to do so, and I think she should take an instrument since she didn't have that option in the parochial school, but she'll also need to practice on top of everything else she has to do. We'll have to work on time management now that school is in full gear and we have an idea of her schedule.

Patricia is loving chorus and I'm glad she opted not to take violin this year. That would be a lot on top of it all. Plus, do we really want to listen to flute AND violin practice??

It's All in How You Carry Yourself

As much as I like having the girls and Jack with me, I also like some one-on-one time with Baby Brigid, and I get that when Jack takes the girls to the lake, as he has the last couple of weekends. I know Margaret and Patricia are enjoying themselves at the lake: they get to go riding; they watch TV on "grandma's TV" (they have cable); if it's at all nice -- by definition a temperature higher than 50 degrees -- they go swimming; and they play "Sims" on a computer that allows them to load a CD-Rom. Brigid then has my undivided attention. We laugh and sing and snuggle. We go garage-sale shopping or walk at the mall. I have yet to take her to the park, although I think she is almost old enough to sit in the baby swing. We have a nice bath and snuggle some more. And then when Daddy and the girls do come back, she shakes with excitement to see her family. I love that, and I know they do, too. Oh, to be greeted with such love and enthusiasm. Brigid definitely knows her family and loves her family.

Brigid and I stopped at a couple of garage sales this weekend, one of which was just down the road on Oak Street. I saw they had some kids' things, so I pulled over. I snagged a nearly new exer-saucer for a buck. A buck! Even if she only likes it for a few minutes at a time, it's sure worth a buck. It gives me the chance to put her down in something other than the playpen or crib so I can go to the bathroom. She was excited by the prospect of it at first when I cleaned it up (not much to clean. It was in great shape). But then she realized she wasn't being held by a human being so she began to whine. Brigid is a happy baby, but she sure does love to be held. I want to get a "hip hammock" by Playtex. It's a backpack you wear on your hip and the baby rides along that way. Jack loves the Sling-Ezee. I've used it on occasion, and although in his words I'm not cleared by the Sling-Ezee board to use it -- it comes with a user's CD to demonstrate it's proper usage -- I've managed to not let Brigid drop out the bottom of the thing. But this hip hammock seems like a good idea. I played with it at Wal-Mart the other night and I think it's for me. Jack also has a new backpack -- also a garage-sale find -- a nice almost-new LL Bean backpack. Brigid seems to sit well so far.

But how long Brigid will even tolerate being carted around is questionable, expecially since she would much rather be crawling around and pulling herself up. Now that she can pull herself up, that's all she wants to do. But she strands herself there once she is on her feet. She's not sure yet how to get down, short of falling backwards. If she's in the crib, that's usually not a problem. But if she's standing in the living room, then she's likely to take a hit. We were at Michelle's yesterday, and she kept trying to pull herself up on the toys Michelle brought out again, but they're not stable enough to hold her, and she would swing down to her side. We were catching her and helping her down all afternoon.

Brigid and I also visited Frances' garage sale on Saturday and piked up the game of Clue for the girls to play. They played a version of it at a friends' house so I knew it would be something they would enjoy. They were very anxious to start playing, but as always, they ask to play something or watch something 10 minutes before it's time for them to go to bed. Plus, I have to get more score sheets for the game. Frances said we could even make them on the computer ourselves.

We have no Jenny today so Daddy has Baby B to himself until I get home from work. The two of them are going to join Patricia at school for lunch today. I think Patricia will enjoy showing off her baby sister. I don't know if Daddy will receive the same attention.

It Only Hurts When You Laugh

Margaret's back was still hurting her through most of yesterday from her fall in dance class Wednesday night. It's hard, because you end up straddling a fine line between wanting to baby her, which she wants, and wanting to let her know you feel for her but want her to shake it off and get past it. She has always needed more comforting and external validation than Patricia. I don't know if that's first-child/second-child syndrome or something else, but it's pretty classic. Our weekend plans may depend on how she feels. If she's up to it, Jack may take her hiking or up to the lake for the weekend, which would include riding. If her back is bothering her, she may not want to ride.

One thing we've noticed about Margaret this fall is her enthusiasm for going to school. She's happy to go; she's enthusiastic when she climbs into the car at the end of the day. She was really stoked about her science homework, studying for a test coming up on scientific method. We really enjoyed studying together last night, going over the science and her social studies vocabulary words. I'm so happy with how she has adjusted and accepted being a junior-high student. My anxiety was for naught. At least for now. It's still only September.

Patricia is so happy with Mr. Fortin, her face beams when she talks about him or when someone asks about her teacher. She asked me yesterday if I thought it would be OK if she had two favorite teachers -- Mr. Fortin and Miss Kelley from St. Peter's. I told her I didn't think she would be disloyal to Miss Kelley if she ranked Mr. Fortin up there, too. What a relief that they moved so well from the protective confines of St. Peter's to the ugly reaches of public school. I just received the registration information for religious education. It looks like Patricia will be doing Super Sunday and Margaret will have religion on Sunday evenings. I forgot that she needs the preparation for confirmation in 9th grade. Another milestone.

Baby Brigid was very happy and animated most of yesterday. She's getting so strong on her legs, and now that she's more mobile, there is no keeping her down. She much less content to be held when she can be crawling and pulling herself up. I had her with me in the waiting room at the dentist yesterday while Margaret and Patricia had their checkups (Patricia has a cavity). She wouldn't sit still so I put her on the floor and she crawled around happily. Last night I put her in the crib for a minute (it's become a holding tank as opposed to a sleeping place) and she stood there, babbling away, smiling and squealing. She's so proud of her accomplishment. She has begun to move her feet a little when standing there, too. She's understanding where they are supposed to go under her when she's upright.

The drool factory was open last night as well. I think she might be working on one of her upper teeth. I wonder if they hurt more coming in because they're generally bigger. She was pretty cranky for the bottom two she has now; I'm hoping the top don't cause as much distress. If this is what it is, they're certainly causing as much if not more moisture.

We had another good day with Jenny yesterday, too, because she was able to take her out for a walk. It seems Baby B. does well when she has a change of scenery from the living room. She enjoys being outside, and Jenny is all too happy to oblige, especially if it means she doesn't have to put up with non-stop crying until I come home or BB drops exhausted to sleep. I hope we have three more mornths of this nice fall-like weather so BB can spend some of it outside. It's easier to take a crying baby outside.

Falling Asleep and Falling Down, Neither Are Common Occurances

Well, sleep-deprived she isn't. Baby Brigid decided to catch up on some zzzz's last night, having fallen asleep on the boob while I waited for the other two girls at dance class about 7 p.m. She slept in the car seat on the way home (we walked with her in the stroller) and continued to sleep in the carrier until about 8:30. She woke up briefly, I changed her and she nursed some more, falling asleep essentially for the rest of the night. She woke up occasionally throughout the night to snack, but otherwise she got about 12 hours of sleep, something she hasn't done since she was a wee borne. She must have needed it.

Speaking of dance class, the girls had their first tap class last night and it went well until Margaret took a fall on the dance floor onto her back. Got the wind knocked out of her. It upset Patricia almost as much. Patricia came running into the waiting area in tears telling me Margaret fell and had the wind knocked out. Margaret soaked in a hot tub last night and is stiff and sore today, but she's just a little worse for wear.

Daddy and Baby B spent the morning again up at the lake looking out for the horses. That trip could get old real fast, but it's got to be done if not for the food then certainly for the water. And the horses are there in the first place so the girls have something to ride, so it's part of the deal. Jack usually ries to give the baby some quality play time in the upstairs at Grandma's camp, which is wide open and plushly carpeted. The grandparents will be gone through next Friday, so there will be a few more trips up for the care and feeding of the animals. They usually stay up at the lake until the end of October, usually in time for the annual goblin parade on Grace Avenue. I'll have to figure out what our Baby B is going to be for her first Halloween. Margare's first Halloween she was Minnie Mouse. Patricia was a bunny (she was only two months old). We'll have to see what fits the B's personality.

Shake, Rattle and Roll Over and Go to Sleep

Baby B and Daddy had another morning at the lake, making sure the horses are taken care of while Grandma and Granddad are on their European vacation. Jack said the BB cried a lot in the car. But she was really saving it up again for Jenny. Poor Jenny, Brigid just won't cut her a break. She cried about 45 minutes and Jenny had to just put her in the crib for her own sanity. But a miraculous thing happened: Baby B fell asleep on her own in the crib. Jenny said she was afraid to open the door to peek in on her, but then worried maybe something happened and he had hurt herself. At one point, Jenny even entertained the idea of sneaking outside to peek in the window. So instead, she just timed the opening of the door to the crusing by of a car so it would coincide with the noise. Brigid lay sleeping in the crib. But when she woke up she wasn't in much better of a mood until Patricia came home from school.

Brigid's whole body shakes with excitement when one of her sisters or I come in in the afternoon. It's such a heart-warming thing to see -- she quakes, she squeals and laughs. Then she starts to cry as if I 've been withholding sustenance. When Daddy comes home form work at night, she has a similar reaction -- all smiles and shakes. She's so happy to see her family members. But poor Jenny! It makes Jenny feel like Brigid just doesn't like her. I'm not sure that's it. I think Brigid is just so used to her family that she misses them.

Sleep last night was a little better again, although Baby B is still between us in bed. She isn't waking quite so much. The fan really seems to be helping.

Margaret had a good day at school, with her team going on an all-day field trip to study environmental issues. She was all agogg over spending the day with a major crush named Logan who is in a couple of her classes. I understand he's a new kid to the district, too, and apparently is very cute. It's disconcerting to hear your 11-year-old talk about boys like this. It's new to us because in St. Peter's, there were only a couple boys in her class, and they were essentially the same boys she went to school with from kindergarten. Now there is a virtual smorgasbord of testosterone to choose from. And we don't like it. Not one little bit.

Even Patricia has gotten in on the act, speaking all gushy and mushy about a cute guy named Eric in her class, and how lucky a girl named Emma is because she gets to sit NEXT to him. It's enough to make us decide to homeschool until they're, oh, 25 or 26. Patricia is in hog heaven because unlike Margaret, who had 14, 16 kids in her class on average every year at St. Peter's, Patricia's class never went higher than 12, and that was in kindergarten. She had 9 kids in her class, including her, in 2nd grade; there were 10 of them in 3rd. Now she has 20 (including her). And there are two other 4th grades. We're in big trouble.

BetterThan A Washing Machine

I always read about the sleep-inducing power of "white noise" for babies but thought that meant you had to put the car seat on top of the washing machine in order to get your kid to sleep. Since we can't drag the washing machine up into our bedroom, Jack instead decided to plug in the fan to see if it helps Baby Brigid drop off easier. I'm not sure if it was the fan, but Brigid did have an easier time of it last night. I know Jack sure did. He slept like a rock, which is a whole lot different than the last few nights where we've all been up multiple times. BB didn't wake as much, wasn't as fitful and didn't snack as often. She may have stirred about 4 or so and then dropped back off until about 6 and then again until about 8 a.m. Not bad. Now if I could only get rid of my stiff neck and sore arms, stiff and sore because of the contortions I put myself in so I can nurse and lie down at the same time. It's the only way I can get some sleep, too

Baby B is getting stronger and stronger on her feet. Just in the last couple of days, from when she first pulled herself up so self-satisfied, to last night when she was really using her center of gravity with more confidence, it's been amazing.There's no holding her down. She wants to be upright like her fellow Homosapiens. She's had enough of this crawling, hunched-over mode of transportation. The fact that she's only six months old shouldn't come into play. I still credit her ape-like toes for her uncanny ability to support her weight on her chubby feet. She digs them into the carpeting (or your lap or your hip or the fleshy part of your waist) and that gives her a good foot-hold, so to speak. She still has missteps. For instance, she'll pull herself up to her feet but doesn't realize she has to stand on both of them simultaneously. She'll stand with one foot on top of the other, like she's getting ready to do the crane stance in karate. But she's getting better and better with each pull-up.

Last night, she was wearing her polo dress (thank you Auntie Shell) but it interfered with her crawling. She would crawl and sit, crawl and sit, crawl and sit, crawl and si but she never got anywhere because she essentially moved in a square. It's like only being able to make left turns.

Margaret and Patricia thoroughly enjoyed jazz class yesterday with Miss Susan. I knew they would. They came home and showed me some of the moves they learned. It's great exercise, but I'd never tell them that.

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Grateful Words

Forgetting to give Margaret her school picture order envelope and money is just the kind of thing to send her into a tailspin. Frantic phone calls home after her homeroom went unanswered because I just couldn't hear the phone ringing in the other room, but I finally got the message that she needed the money and order form so I brought both over to school on my way to work. The Fort Knox-like building was opened for me by the "juvenile officer" -- that is, a police officer who works with juveniles, not one who is in fact a juvenile -- because he was heading in at the same time I was. Good thing I'm not a subversive. The office was abuzz with activity, and when I was finally able to tell the woman what brought me to their hallowed halls, she wrote Margaret's name on a list with a dozen other names. Apparently, I'm not the only slack-off on school-picture day. She then made an announcement, calling all the names on her list to have them report to the office. Margaret had just come from gym and was heading to math, which is the class from which kids would be called to have their pictures taken. I guess math class produces neater-looking subjects. Moments later, Margaret was standing in the office with a huge grin, a grateful smile from a relieved sixth-grader to her overly proud mom. I had to resist the urge to re-comb her hair. What the heck... this is sixth grade.

Patricia begins chorus this afternoon, so I'll be happy to hear the report after school. It is also the girls' first day of jazz class, so we'll be busy on Mondays. Tap starts on Wednesday. It's that time of year.

And Baby B was in a happy mood as of 1:45 today when I spoke to Jenny. I called her on the phone and asked if the crying maniac was there. Jenny said, "Can you hear her?" I thought she was testing me or my hearing had gone from my left ear. But no, I couldn't hear her. "That's because she fell alseep on our walk and woke up in a good mood," Jenny said. "I don't want to jinx it." I left it at that. BB did have a fitfull night again, thrashing and crying and snacking throughout. It may be a growth spurt or just more of the same. But this popping up as soon as she's placed on a foreign surface -- whether her bed or ours -- after falling asleep is for the birds. She's not getting nearly enough sleep. You would think that would make it easier to get her to sleep at night, but sleep in the baby world doesn't work that way. It just makes for a crankier kid. Daddy had a good morning with her, however, and now Jenny's good experience. Could this be the start of something new? We'll hold our collective breath.

At Least She's Consistent

Baby Brigid has decided that not only does she not need sleep, or at least at any regular interval, she should also let us know by objecting loudly each day at about 1 p.m. She has, for more than several days now, given us (or Jenny) a sound thrashing where she is nearly inconsolable. Sometimes the boob will give her (and the rest of us) some respite from her protestations but in general, it's an all-points bulletin from 1 to about 2:15 p.m. Even on days when she has my undivided attention, like yesterday when Jack had Margaret and Patricia at the lake for the weekend, she had her spell. It wasn't as loud or demanding, but like clockwork it began.

She also had a difficult time sleeping last night; difficult time getting to sleep and staying asleep. She woke numerous times, thrashed about, even babbled. Sometimes she snacked. But mostly she just thrashed about. It could be that Jack wasn't there as the other barrier in her otherwise cushioned fortress of our bed. It could be her cold, which she is tolerating very well.

She took a fall from her standing in the crib and smacked her forehead on the crib railing earlier in the day. This one illicited real cries of pain, not just "give me attention" cries, and later in the evening she still had a red mark on her noggin. However, it's a far cry from my panic-stricken call to the doctor's office when Margaret fell at that age. (Of course, Margaret fell off the dining room table. That's a different story).

We Would Never Saddle Her With a 'Genius' Label

Margaret received her reading assessment score yesterday, something the teacher will go over with us at the first parent-teacher conference. As Margaret explained it, a score of 55 is reading at the grade level (in her case, sixth-grade reading level). A score in the 80s is something in the post-doctorate level. Margaret scored a 76. It's a little intimidating to have a child who probably reads at a higher level than her mother. But this kid has adored books since she could sit up in my lap. She told me the other day that the teachers at Stafford are always telling the kids they have to always have a book going. One of the study halls is silent reading only. She said it was a dumb requirement "since I always have at least one book going." Jeesh. We're more than a little proud.

I have to say the more they go to the pubic schools and the more I hear about their days, the more confident I am in our decision to send them there. Margaret had a session on a climbing wall in gym class the other day. Patricia's teacher breaks into song and plays the piano at any given moment. She wants to join chorus. Both girls have access to wonderfully equipped computer labs. The down sides: they have to decide in the morning what to wear since at St. Peter's they wore uniforms; and they have no spiritual curriculum woven into the coursework. That's the tradeoff, I suppose. We'll have to make sure they continue in their spiritual journey through other means. One of those means is religious education classes, something we endured as kids but that I hope have changed over the years. This is one thing I don't think the girls are going to be as accepting of. When we told them they were going to go to public school, Patricia broke into tears. At first, I thought it was because of her having to change schools. She said, "Does this mean we'll have to go to religious education?" I know the feeling.

Baby Brigid, meanwhile is still working through her cold. Last night, I gave her baby Dimetap but I don't know if it helped. Her nose is quite runny and she's coughing a little. So am I, so I don't know if I caught the cold from her, if she from me or if we both caught it from Margaret, who had cold symptoms last week. She gave Jenny another marathon bout of crying yesterday afternoon. Poor Jenny, she called later to say she's worried Brigid doesn't like her. I said I think Brigid is just going through some kind of stranger anxiety thing that hit at the right time developmentally. If anyone can do anything with babies it's our Jenny, so she has no reason to worry. I think we might, however, because who wants to sit with a screaming baby for an hour and a half each day? Brigid may have even pushed Jenny to the point of not ever wanting children of her own! Our Baby B, who's always so happy and engaging, is getting a reputation for being a crankpuss and a screamer, at least from 1-2:15 p.m. However, she has had an ear infection; then her second tooth came through; then she's developed this cold, so perhaps timing is just lousy all the way around and Jenny has been on the receiving end each time. I have to remind Brigid she can't dis our Jenny. We've had our Jenny a lot longer than we've had our Brigid. Some things are set in stone.

There's an Ill Wind a'Blowing

Baby Brigid has a cold. Yup, a real honest-to-goodness snotty nose, sneezy coughy cold. Last night we had Margaret's open house at Stafford Middle School and although the middle-school kids weren't supposed to be there, we brought Brigid with us to spare Jenny from having to sit with her and the other two. The open house format had us going through Margaret's schedule class by class for 10 minutes each. It was a nice way to see what she has to do every day, and by the end of the year this kid is going to have buns of steel with all the walking and stair climbing she is expected to do in order to get from A-hall to the gym, up to B-hall, down to technology and up again. We could barely do it, and we used the elevator (had the stroller with us. We're not THAT lazy.) Brigid was a gem, but you could tell she had "sad eyes," as Michelle put it, but the end of the night. Her nose started running and her sneezes were productive. By the end of the evening, my nose was running and my throat was sore and scratchy, so it's no surprise that the Baby B was feeling it, too. A little Tylenol and she was ready for sleep.

She woke up this morning with a wet nose, too, so I know it's the real deal. But that hasn't affected her work at climbing up and standing, which she is doing with relish. She's also begun babbling more and more using consonants, and readily lets off a string of dadadadamamamambabababa's as she's trying to shove her ape toes into her mouth (I say she has ape toes because her big toes are very big and stubby and they seem to be separate from the rest of her foot, like, well, like an ape. I say it's to hold her in the trees better).

One thing we've had trouble with lately is inconsolable crying from about noon to 1:30, just when Jenny takes her. I think it's because she's so over-tired that she is miserable from lack of sleep. I don't think it's anxiety over Jenny, who has been with her for weeks now. And she's cried like this with Jack, too. If she would just lie down and nap, she'd feel beter and so would everyone else. She gets herself worked up into such a state, that even if we tried putting her down in the crib and going back to soothe her, then leaving, going back, etc., it would have no effect because she's so angry. I mean really angry. she's a strong-willed kid, no doubt.

Speaking of strong-willed kids, Patricia is very excited about Mr. Fortin's system of tokens. The kids get five tokens a day every day and if he has to speak to them or if they are disruptive or do something against the rules, he quietly asks for a token. If they have any left at the end of the week, or if they've been able to save any from previous days/weeks, they can "buy" things on Fridays -- l unch with him in the room, something from the treasure box, snacks, many things. The kids voted yesterday for other "more expensive" items they want to work toward, like pajama days where they could wear pjs to school or pet days where they could bring a pet to school. Because they are more involved, they cost more tokens. She thought this was a great idea and is eager to earn her tokens and not have them taken away. He's a clever man.

Jack has today off and his regular days tomorrow and Saturday and plans to bring Margaret and Patricia to the lake after school tomorrow. That will leave Baby B and I on our own again, but it's just as well especially if she isn't feeling 100 percent. I'd rather hang around with her down here. I'm hoping it's nice out this weekend so maybe we can get out and take advantage of the weather. We have yet to visit the park, so maybe we'll do that if it's nice on Saturday.

Kids are Kids, No Matter How Small

When I walked in from work the other night, Jack says, "Guess what?" I knew immediately: Baby Brigid was standing. That's right. Standing, as in on her own two chubby feet, holding onto the crib rail and smiling a self-satisfied smile as if to say, "Look at me. Aren't I something special? I'm upright, just like the rest of you." She managed to stand for several seconds before she started slanting sideways and down, but she remained undeterred and climbed back up for another stand. Now there's not keeping her down if you put her anywhere she can get a foot- or hand-hold. Cruising the furniture can't be far behind. Everyone says her early readiness is because she has two big sisters to keep up with; I think this kid was raring to go before many people even knew I was pregnant. I felt her pummeling me as soon as I could feel her, well, pummeling me. She came out ready and willing to be moving.

It also doesn't hurt that she was a tummy sleeper. Now, before I get bombarded by the "Back to Sleep" folks, let me say that Brigid slept 10 inches from my face every night in her co-sleeper; we do not come from an at-risk family; and she was soon strong enough to not only turn her head side to side as she slept but to also lift herself up off her chest very, very early. Tummy sleeping for her was more comfortable and she got a better night's rest because she wasn't startling herself awake all the time. and now, at 6 months, she's so strong in her neck and back that she's standing, crawling, sitting and generally moving like a 9-month-old. And now that she's older, she's also sleeping much more comfortably on her back and rolls herself around when she needs to change positions.

We had Patricia's open house at Oak Street School last night. Hot dogs in the cafeteria and visits to classrooms after. Her teacher, Mr. Fortin, seems very pleased to have Patricia in his class. Sitting on the kids' desks were a few pieces of work, one of which was a feelings wheel they made with an outer circle and an inner circle you can move. It lines up with different feelings and likes, one of which says "My proudest moment." You match that up with a corresponding spot across the wheel, and on Patricia's it says, "When my sister, Brigid was born." How proud I was at that. It is going in the scrapbook that's for sure.

We have Margaret's open house tonight, and I think we're supposed to walk their schedule with each class taking 10 minutes. She has nine. You do the math. But both girls seem to be enjoying their new schools and teachers. Margaret is a little intimidated by her shop, oops, they call it Tech class now, teacher, Mr. Tisdale. She says he keeps hitting the desk, the blackboard, the walls with a stick, really loudly, to make the students know he means business. Yeah, that's the way to teach. By intimidation. What decade is he living in? If he continues to scare the living daylights out of my kid, I'm going to slap a stick of my own on his wall. We'll see how high he jumps.

Patricia is being referred to the Odyssey Program, which used to be called Gifted and Talented. I guess some took exception to that, as if to say the other students were Mediocre and Inept. She is also interested in chorus, which meets after school on Mondays. That means that on Mondays, she'll go to chorus and then to jazz class after school; on Wednesdays, Margaret has karate and then they have tap class. We'll see if they want to do anything else. It's a lot to heap on kids, and I think sometimes kids are over-scheduled. Sometimes, kids just need to be allowed to be kids.

If You Stand for Something, You'll Fall For Anything

Well, Brigid has decided she's not content to be merely an early crawler or sitter. She has begun attempts at pulling herself to her feet. And with assistance, she's actually accomplished it for a few seconds at a time. The assistance comes in all forms: An arm, a leg or hip of some willing lackey who is sitting in her proximity, or the side of the crib when she's placed inside. Yesterday she made some serious moves in that direction, reaching for the top rail and pulling herself to her knees. If she gets those chubby little feet underneath her, she'll be up and then we'll be in for it. She won't know how to get down, so gravity will have its way with her. She has also taken to "cribbing," like a horse chewing on its stall walls and inhaling as it does so, Brigid began chewing and sucking on the crib railing. Maybe if we install a water cup and grain bin, we can keep her in there for longer periods of time so that she gets used to the idea and maybe will actually use it for sleep.

Last night she slept pretty well, considering her penchant for avoiding it at all costs. I hope it's because she wore herself out crawling around at Auntie Shell's house when we went for a visit. Margaret, Patricia, Josh and Jacob spashed around in the hot tub (in the mid-50s temperatures) while Brigid, Michelle and I sat on the floor and played. Ever the consummate hostess and business and marketing specialist, Michelle pulled out a baby gym and abacus for Baby B to play with. The gym was somewhat successful, but boy could that baby do her sums. As Chet would say, she figured out her gazuntas. (you know, two gazunta four; four gazunta eight, etc.) By the end of the math lesson, she was hungry and exhausted.

We met Jack for dinner at Mangia's and all was well. Baby B. sat pretty well in her car seat on the table through most of the meal, but when a waitress kept stopping by to chat with her and make her laugh, she pulled her stranger-anxiety face and cried (she scrunches up her nose and eyes and lets out a very distinct cry and looks at or for me as if to say, "Help. Who is this and why is this person interacting with (or holding) me?" I always feel like I have to apologize and say she's tired or hungry when in fact she just has stranger anxiety, something she's come into fairly recently but not altogether unusual for a sixth-month-old. She warms up quickly, but she has definitely moved into a new stage.

We got home and all the Downs girls got their pjs on and climbed onto my bed (Jack had to go back to work) and we talked and laughed about when Margaret and Patricia were babies and all the funny stuff they did. Meanwhile, Brigid tried climbing on all of us, pulling herself up as far as she could before tumbling back down on the bed. It won't be long, and so far it's been much, much too fast.

Her Sleeping Doesn't Even Qualify for a TKO

Jack decided to take the older girls to the lake for the weekend, so Brigid and I hung out in Plattsburgh. We were given the task of driving Grandma and Granddad to Burlington on Saturday to see them off at the airport on their English Isles trip, so we decided to make a day of it in Burlington. Brigid had a fitful night, however, and for some reason wasn't herself Friday night and throughout Saturday in Burlington. Very cranky, very sleep-deprived. This kid fights sleep like a boxer fights to stay on his feet. We got up Saturday morning and hit a few garage sales before Grandma and Granddad came down to meet us from the lake, and by that time, she should have been sleeping but instead decided to scream all the way to Burlington. When she finally dropped off, Granddad had just pulled up to the curb to unload the luggage. That work her up. Stay down! Stay down, for God's sake, just stay down! If I had a towel, I would have thrown it into the car. We said our goodbyes, and Baby B and I drove away on what should have been an enjoyable few hours of girl shopping. But, like I said, she was inconsolable for the most part.

So was I, however, because I didn't find what I was looking for, as the U2 song goes. I ended up at Church Street and Macy's, finding Baby B. a beautiful pinwale cord dress in pink. The price was outrageous, but percent off sale and coupon brought it down from the stratosphere. She was adorable in it at church today. If I had a digital camera, I'd take her picture to post (I may still be able to do that in the future).

Last night, she was still a crankpuss but she fell asleep on the couch for a little while. Then we hit the sack and she slept (albeit next to me) until after 4 when she woke up for a snack. Then she slept again until after 6, again, snack time. We got up about 9:30. Jack and the girls came home in time for us to go to 11 a.m. Mass. Margaret had to serve and Patricia got to go to children's church, so it was just Mom, Dad and the baby in the pew. Baby B. always entertains the folks behind us because she's an unending source of smiles and babbling. I don't know how much the folks back there get out of mass, but it sure makes it fun.

Second Day is Always Harder

The girls' second day at school was good, but as Margaret said last night, "Mom, I like sixth grade, but I don't want to go." She is still getting her schedule down, getting the idea of changing classes down and meeting new people. She looked so cute walking up to me at the end of her day. Her looks and carriage have changed almost overnight -- so mature and confident even though that little girl is still lurking inside. I hope she can manage the challenges of middle school without incident.

Patricia had a good day -- the second day of school and they already went on a field trip. Fourth grade social studies is the study of New York state, and we're fortunate to be located in a hugely historical region of the state. Much of the country's destiny was determined in the Champlain Valley, with the War of 1812 being fought here in Lake Champlain. The Battle of Plattsburgh was the pivotal battle of the War of 1812 against the English, and Plattsburgh hosts a Battle of Plattsburgh commemoration every September. Right now in the harbor is a replica of a tall ship and the kids walked downtown to see it and play some period games. That was fun, but Jack saw his middle daughter walking around the playground at recess time looking forlorn and friendless. Our house, as many of you know, butts up against the Oak Street School playground so we can look out at any given moment and see what's going on in our daughter's school (her classroom windows face our backyard). Jack was painting the back of the house yesterday and saw her walking around. She waved, but he said she looked lost out there. I asked later what was going on and she said she doesn't have anyone to play with. It's a far cry from St. Peter's, where she only had 10 other kids in her class and they made do with who they had. The kids in her class, by and large, have been with one another in the city schools since kindergarten so she has to break the clique in order to fit in. I ache for her, but she's a strong kid and I hope she musters up the fortitude to make her own friendships there. Otherwise, I'm going to have to storm in and throw my momma lion weight around (only kidding ... kinda)

Jack is now off on Fridays and Saturdays (as opposed to his 20-year-old schedule of having Sundays and Mondays off) and is going to take the girls up to the lake for the night after they get out of school. We're going to be taking his parents to the airport tomorrow in Burlington. They're heading to England for a three-week sojourn of the British Isles. It's supposed to be a nice day, and they're getting fewer and father between so Jack wants to go to the lake as often as he can.

It was also the day after Brigid's shots, and although she was not herself the first day, she was cranky as well on the second and the site of one of the shots was red and angry. Poor Jenny ... when I got home from work she had to have Brigid in the playpen because she just didn't know what else to do with her (Brigid was crying pretty much non-stop). The boob helped but she was still not herself throughout the day and night. She finally surrendered to a nap about 5 p.m. but that lasted all of 45 minutes and then she drifted on and off at night until finally falling into a fitful sleep after midnight. She fights sleep like no child I've ever had. She'll sit there, bobbling around like a Weeblo but she will refuse to go to sleep. I'm hoping this is just a fad and that she will finally discover how wonderful a good night's sleep can be. I remember those... But considering how fast this phase of her little life goes by, I don't want to be looking back at this in five years saying ohh, how I miss those days....So for now, I endure and just look at it as additional opportunities to look at and be with my baby.

Sometimes Letting Go is Watching from a Distance

Yesterday was the first day of school for Margaret and Patricia in the City School District. It had the potential to be so traumatizing, if not for the girls than for me, that I took the day off from work. I worked out a system where I would drive Margaret to a parking area just north of the entrance to the school so as not to get tied up in the circus that is the morning and afternoon drop-off at Stafford Middle School. She got out of the car and in typical "Stiff-upper-lip-but-nonetheless-terrified" style, she was about to head off to the unknown and untested. But just then, Master David Boise and his wife, Leisa, came walking up the sidewalk and welcomed Margaret into their entourage so she had someone to walk in with.

Kim came over with Nicole to the house after that and they, along with Jack, Baby Brigid in the Sling-Ezee, Patricia, and I walked to Oak Street School for their 8:15 a.m. start. Nicole and Patricia have been buddies since before kindergarten when they met at dance school. They're not in the same fourth-grade class, but they're going to walk to school together. We arrived at the appointed door and hung out until it was time for the kids to file in. But Patricia seemed so together, we could have easily been sitting at home in the kitchen rather than hanging out waiting there with her. She was so excited and happy. She connected with a few friends from Brownies days who are in her class and another friend from St. Peter's days. The bell rang, they went into the building and that was that. Kim, Jack, Baby B and I were left to walk back home on our own.

This is Going to Hurt You More than Me
The other reason I took the day off yesterday was that Baby Brigid had her sixth-month checkup with Dr. Chaskey and was scheduled to get her shots. I wanted to make sure I was there with her during and after in case she wasn't herself. I have a hard time seeing the babies get their shots ... it makes me cry. And it made her cry, too. As I waited for the nurse, I started to nurse and Baby B fell asleep. When the nurse came in with the shots, I had to pull her from the boob and lay her down on the table. The nurse gave her one shot in one fat cherubic leg and another shot in the other. Brigid began to wail, so the nurse said I could nurse her again, which I did, and she immediately stopped crying (you can't do both with your mouth full). But then I had to get her dressed, so she started crying again. Poor little pokey fell asleep in the car after on our way out.

After grabbing lunch with Michelle, I went to pick up Patricia at school and then we headed over to our pre-arranged pick-up spot for Margaret, who gets out 15 minutes after Patricia. Jack walked over from the Press to greet her, too, which was wonderful. And after 15 minutes of us worrying that she wouldn't remember where I was going to pick her up, or of her standing at the front doors waiting for us while we waited a block away, there she was, walking along with her backpack, looking a little bewildered but unscathed. I got out of the car and gave her a big hug, as did her Dad. We were so proud. I mean really proud. She had a good day, she said. There was true relief in her voice. Both girls did so well considering a month and a half ago they were going to be going to Seton Academy. Margaret spent the afternoon doing her homework (not much on the first day) and arranging her binder. Patricia had some paperwork for me to sign, but other than that it was a easy afternoon.

Brigid was a little unsettled because of the shots last night. But considering all three of my girls had the potential to have a disasterous day, it was a victory all around.

All Things Being Equal, She'd Rather Be On the Move

Well, after a week away at camp for vacation, we're back to the regularly scheduled broadcast of our lives. School is back in session at the college, so the halls are cramped with clueless college students who are still looking for their classes, the cafeteria in Hawkins Hall is open but it's crowded once again. Margaret and Patricia start their first days at public school tomorrow and are both anxious and excited at the same time. So are Mom and Dad, both anxious for their daughters who have had such good experiences in the protective atmosphere at St. Peter's, and excited for the girls to experience all our public tax dollars can afford them. We're worried how they'll do socially and how the other "element" found more often in the public school system will rub off on them. We can only hope the foundation built at home and at St. Peter's will hold them up in good stead at their new schools. Patricia gets to meet her teacher, Mr. Fortin, this afternoon and tonight, Mom and Dad get to go to an open house meeting at Oak Street where we'll meet with Mr. Fortin and other parents whose kids are entering fourth grade.

When I got home from work on Friday, the girls were already at the lake. Jack and I and Baby B. planned on heading up that afternoon, but Brigid had come down with a fever the night before, so I was taking her in to see the doctor to make sure she was OK. Well, she wasn't. She presented with a fever of 102 degrees and a red and angry inner left ear, so she was put on antibiotics -- her first -- for 10 days. Between Tylenol and the antibiotic, she was pretty well drugged up for the next few days. But she took them very well, almost eagerly, unlike her sisters at that age, who had to be hog-tied and trussed up in order to get them to take anything. Brigid seemed to enjoy the taste. We return to the doctor's for her six-month check-up on the 6th so they'll re-evaluate her ear then. In the meantime, she hasn't had her fever return.

Our vacation, which started Aug. 25, saw us visit the lake for a few days, then back to Plattsburgh for a few more days as we entertained Patricia's friend, Nicole, for Patricia's 9th birthday celebration. We took all our girls to the Champlain Valley Exposition in Vermont on the 28th and then Nicole slept over to cap off the birthday festivities. Margaret then had her orientation at Stafford Middle School on the 30th. There she learned where her locker is and what the lock combination is, which she mastered right off the bat. Michelle and I, along with Baby Brigid and Jacob, sat at the Koffee Kat while Margaret and Josh attended the orientation, and then we all walked the halls of Stafford to help find rooms and figure out how Margaret will get from her math class in A hall down to the gym or tech class in the basement of the building about a half-mile away all in three minutes. It's easy to forget how fast you could do it when you were in junior and senior high school, but we all had to do it, and we did. So they will, too.

After our visit to Stafford, the girls and Jack had hair cuts with Kimmy, and then we all headed back up to the lake for the remainder of our vacation. You never can tell what the last week of August is going to be like. In our case this year, it was cold and often rainy. But the girls got in some quality riding time and spent some of the time in the lake, althought it was way too cold for me to even consider going in (a bath of hot water is to cold for me to consider going in).

All this time, Baby B. has been spending practicing and working on her crawling and sitting and she's getting it down pat. She is a squirmer and would much rather be on the move now. I don't think it will be long before she's pulling herself up to her feet.

Brigid continues to loathe the crib and pops up like toast any time I try to put her to bed in it. She'll nap for short spurts, but forget it when it comes to bed time. But until we can get her bed into the other room, I fear our Ferberization will be for naught. We can't very well ignore her when we're two feet away from her. She's a force to be reckoned with, and although we applaud that in our girls and know it will bode well for their future as strong women in a male-dominated world, we'd like a little less of it in our five-month-old who refuses to sleep in her own bed.