The Pregnant Waddle

Pre-Pregnancy Weight Just Around the Corner (It's Trying to Run and Hide)

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

Ngairita Burrito

The Husbandlet is a master swaddler, it turns out. Who knew? When I swaddle the Squid, all her arms and legs emerge from the blankie and start flailing around. At best, I can immobilize her legs with the swaddle, flip her on her side, tuck her feet into my lap, hold her arms (see above re: flailing), and prop the pacifier in her mouth with my third hand. Then, after a piece, there is usually happiness (or at least resignation) and sleep.

But when The Husbandlet swaddles Ngaire—oh, then is there swaddlage indeed. Her little feet stay neatly folded, her little arms stick down by her sides as if glued, her little face peeks out from the folds of cloth in the manner of explorers to the frozen North.

In her swaddled state, Ngaire resembles nothing so much as a large pink burrito. It makes me hungry. The salsa—bring it!

*We pause to bring you a Moment of Cuteness: Ngaire just woke up from a nap beside me and there was Angst and Dismay. I fed her and there was Quiet and Thoughtfulness. I wrapped her in a blanket and jiggled her on my knees and there was Semi-Hypnotized Eye-Drooping. Then I settled her snuggled against my thigh—I am sitting on my bed typing on my laptop—and she turned on her side, folded her hands under her chin, sighed, and fell asleep.*

Back to our regular programming.

Ngaire was seven weeks old on Monday, and it is just incredible how much she has developed in that time. She is increasingly alert, and has recently begun to focus on—and even try to reach for—objects like my mom’s purse strap or my mother-in-law’s watch. If someone else is holding her and she hears my voice, she will turn to look for me or even start to cry. She has been known to ROLL OVER ONTO HER PACIFIER to retrieve it when it falls out of her mouth (it’ll be more efficient but less entertaining when she learns to simply pick it up and put it back in her mouth). Child has outgrown some brands of size 1 diapers, for cryin’ out loud!

This weekend, we visited an assemblage of relatives and long-term-friends-honorary-relatives-people-from-both-families-finally-got-married-
so-now-it’s-official folk. Ngaire not only got to meet her Auntie Godmother (my brother-in-law’s mother-in-law, who meets the above convoluted/hyphenated description, which has led to some confusion when her son-in-law calls her “Aunt Denise” in front of the uninitiated) but her Africa grandmother as well. Many pictures of Ngaire were taken. Limbs of people other than Ngaire may or may not appear in the pictures. The first-born grandchild: it’s a hard life, but somebody’s got to live it.


At 5:01 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

At 11:34 AM, Blogger Nate said...

Ever hear a group of vikings sing?

Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

At 1:40 PM, Blogger Jordana said...

Nate--spam go bye-bye. LOVE the lovely trash option.

At 11:40 PM, Blogger Nate said...

Just don't trash the sacred spam song!


Post a Comment

<< Home