Toot Toot Chuga Chuga

Four teeth in two weeks, five first steps, and a cold that left Baby C sounding like a haggard old diner waitress with a two-pack-a-day habit.

There, now you're caught up.

The cold left Baby C (and me) too miserable to enjoy all of her milestones. For the last week, she's been clingy as a koala and just plain miserable. Diversions are hard to come by after a week inside, and one sleepless night I succumbed. I propped her up in front of the computer and started Googling. Dora didn't do it for her. Neither did Barney. Even more reluctantly, I started typing "W.. I...G...G...L...E...S".

For the first time in Baby C's life, the Australian quartet's songs rang through the room. Her glazed eyes focused. She clapped. She laughed. She offered the ultimate sacrifice: her paci placed gently on the computer space bar at the feet of her favorite band.

I suppose that's a milestone of another sort. The first time Mommy's high ideals regarding crap kiddy music and no screen time before age two fell in the name of buying five minutes of peace and quiet. Well, it had to happen at some point. Mommies can't live in ivory towers forever; at some point, they've got to face the real world, Wiggles and all.

Memories

If you should be the lucky recipient of a kit that lets you imprint your child's hand in plaster of Paris at ages 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5, I humbly suggest waiting until the child is at least 10 years old before undertaking the project. True, you won't capture the sweet outline of your baby's wee digits, but you will probably avoid said wee digits gleefully plastering the kitchen floor, the cat, and the baby’s own hair. You will probably also avoid the baby stuffing a plaster-covered-fist in her mouth and sucking down the glop as it sets.

Rather than set her hand gently on the plaster, Baby C squirmed away from me, scooped, and ran. Instead of her little handprint, the kit showcases a gaping hole. All is not lost, however. If you squint at the cloudy waves of plaster on my hardwood floor, you can sort of make out her fingers. And they appear to be permanent.