Happy New Year!
My little one turned three months old on Thursday and on Friday she reached a very important milestone. She rolled over!
I had her on the floor for her tummy-time, which she typically hates. I was preoccupied, trying to undo her floor mat so I could wash it, and as I turned back to look at her, I caught her mid-roll. I called my husband at work, shouting: “she rolled over, she rolled over!” then I called my mom. It was a very exciting day. I tried to get her to recreate it for her daddy later in the evening, but she was over it. I thought maybe it was some weird fluke, or hell, maybe I had imagined it (I don’t get a ton of sleep, after all) but she did it again today for her daddy. Very exciting stuff.
There is a dance that most parents will do with other parents of small children–or so I’m coming to notice. It typically is a nice ballet that is inoffensive, however, sometimes it can turn into a freaking “you got served” type of dance that I sometimes find myself being drug into. My husband is the one who never allows himself to be taken onto the dance floor. I wish I had his resistance.
Today we saw another young set of parents while we were out shopping. My husband and I are in our mid-twenties, and they looked to be much younger than us. Barely drinking age, I assume. Anyway, the dad noticed our daughter in her stroller (he was holding their daughter) and looked at me, smiled and asked “how old is your baby?” I smiled and told him, then asked him the same of his child. She was four months old. Then, a woman who I am to assume is the grandmother of the child cut in our dance and said (kind of rudely) “wow, she is big to be three months” So, I responded, very kindly, yes, she is a big girl (she’s tall and lean–probably close to 13 lbs right now, but over 24 inches long), then I spoke before I thought (because nothing else needed to be said) and I stated “she was 8lbs 11oz at birth”. Then the baby’s mom looked at me and said “Yeah, she was 9lbs 7oz” so then I felt the need to reply “She was 3 weeks early”. Then I get the big eyeballs I tend to get when I tell people that.
Did I win? No–it’s stupid, we are both mothers of BEAUTIFUL little girls, who could very well play together one day. It is just some stupid desire to make myself feel like I did something heroic by having such a large baby (when in reality, having any size baby is something to be applauded), I guess I also felt the need to defend my little girl (which was so unnecessary, she’s a baby for crying out loud).
It happens all the time, women trying to out do one another. Why else would they sit around and tell their labor horror-stories at baby showers or when they see pregnant women? It really should stop. I’ll try harder to take it all in stride, so I can teach my daughter that you don’t have to prove you are better than someone else, a real, classy woman doesn’t have to say anything. The old cliche is true: Actions speak louder than words.
More improper pronoun usage occurred today: In the watch repair shop, a lady said “oh, I think he looks like mama–or maybe a she?” the other store employee said “yeah, it is a little girl, she’s only wearing a pink sweater and jeans with flowers all over them” That guy made my day. It also reminded me of “Constant Vigilance!” from Harry Potter.
Please keep my baby and I in your thoughts as we trek across country via airplane on Tuesday–I should have plenty to blog about; I can only imagine how many stupid people I may encounter at the airport. And they better not make me drink my breastmilk or kick me off for breastfeeding. However, I am discreet, as previously mentioned.