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February 27, 2014 / ginavoskov2013

Long time.

Where do I even begin? It’s like I forgot about this blog. I didn’t–I started a few posts over the past two months and realized I didn’t have anything funny to say. Or anything new to say. Or anything that I really wanted to share at all.

When I started this place, it was because I needed to find humour in the really difficult times of staying at home with Edie. When babies are really little, they really fuck you up. Especially because I’d had 34 years without one and I was pretty set in my ways. So having a place to write about how hard things were was kind of essential so that I could A) vent and B) come back in two years and read about them in order to prevent me from wanting another baby. NOT that Edie makes me not want to have another baby. She is really, truly the only baby I ever could have dreamed of and wanted. She is absolutely the most perfect person for us and we don’t want another. I don’t really have to defend wanting only one child, do I? It’s just that she is the baby I wanted. And I got her. #luckiestpersonintheworld.


But you know something? I stopped writing about the hard times because the hard times stopped. I mean, not every minute is filled with unicorns and puppy dogs, but at the end of the day when I am crawling into bed and writing in the journal I keep for Edie, every day has been a *good* one. Ups and downs and what have you, but things just keep getting nicer and sweeter and more fun.

When Edie was 5 weeks old, I brought her to a bridal shower. For most of the few hours I was there, I was stuck in a back bedroom, breastfeeding her and helping her fall asleep. My friends came back to chat and to bring me food and one of them said, “You know, Gina, every day gets better and better.” I honestly didn’t know what she was talking about. I couldn’t imagine a point at which each day would be better than the next. At the time, even though Edie was about the most gentle baby in the world, I was not sleeping, barely showering, and doing my best to keep my bodily fluids under many, many wraps. Not that I didn’t think things would get easier, but I just couldn’t imagine a day when I would rejoice everyday. I couldn’t think beyond the next feeding or diapering or bout of tears–mine or Edie’s. That’s what it’s like to be in it.

But suddenly, it is the end of February and I am going back to work in four days and Edie is nearly nine months old and I have cried twice today just looking at her because my friend was right. Every single day just gets better and better and better and better. And now I have to leave her. Just when things are so good and we know how to weather the storms and how to spend an entire day without crying because I know all of her signs and when to travel during the day so that she can get the most amount of sleep and how to keep her awake just those few more minutes so that I can give her a giant nap and how to kiss her forehead so I don’t wake her up and to give her mozzarella pieces at the end of a meal because if I give them to her at the beginning she won’t eat anything else, and what to do inside all day when the weather is below zero.

Every day is better than the one before. Even if they are really hard days, they’re better than they used to be. And I’m a mom, and I’m Edie’s mom, and I know her better than anyone else on the planet, and I just don’t want to leave her.

But let me get one thing straight: I do NOT feel guilty about going back to work. I feel SAD. Feeling guilty and feeling sad are two different things. In fact, I do not feel guilty about anything at all when it comes to parenting. I do not buy into the guilt that so many people think is somehow important for moms to feel. There is no room for guilt. I feel sad that I won’t get to be with her every day, every moment. But my going back to work means a few things: A) she gets to be with other people–a caring family with big(ger) kids; B) $$$ to help us do things as a family; C) I get to learn who I am again, as a Teacher-Mother; and D) work on my conversation skills. D is not a joke. I really have forgotten how to talk with people I don’t see everyday. So, long story short, please don’t ask me if I feel guilty about going back to work. Acknowledge my feelings of sadness and emptiness, but understand that I see the good things about being a professional, an equal wage earner, and a mother who also happens to enjoy her independence. 


Now onto a recap of The Amazing Edie’s accomplishments:

1) She is a badass traveler. She absolutely KILLED the trip to Belize. Air travel, sleep, time change, being without her Papa, being in the ocean, the list goes on…She is the raddest kid in the whole world.

2) She’s got a tooth! And I burst into tears when I realized she was getting one because it was only then that I realized that she would never again be my toothless little baby.

3) She crawls! The day after she got her tooth, she took to moving around the floor.

4) She stands! ALL THE TIME. Sometimes hard to put her down at night because she stands up so quickly and then cries and cries because she didn’t want to stand at all. (For the record, she knows how to sit back down–I didn’t teach her, she just did it. Very gently, too. Not the plop I was expecting.)

5) She talks! Not really. But she says all kinds of sounds, my favorite one being “mama.” When she is really sad she says “mama” and mostly she says “da da da da” which of course thrills Dennis.

6) She eats! Everything.

7) Headbands! Her thin soft hair keeps falling in her eyes all the time and I think it’s really wrong to let that happen because she needs to see things. I have been vehemently opposed to putting things on babies’ heads that don’t really need to be there, but I see now why headbands are important. I can get behind the idea if they serve a real purpose for Edie, but you’ll never see her with one of those headbands that has a monstrous flower or bubbles or something attached to it. There’s no real reason for that.


The other news is that I’m leaving for DC tomorrow. Alone. Until Sunday. This will be the first time that I’m away from her overnight. I miss that little girl already.

We’ll see how things go when I’m back to work. I hope not to let so much time pass between posts again, but who knows. My aim is to work diligently at school so that when I’m home I can just be with Edie. I think I also just need to be kind to myself and realize that this year I won’t be the teacher I’m used to being. Hard to come in 3/4ths of the way through a year, pick up where someone else left off, and know the kids as well as I normally do. But I’m just going to be positive, work hard, and rush home to be with my girl as soon as I can.



January 3, 2014 / ginavoskov2013

Let-down let down (or actually, not so much.)

Happy 2014!

I was dead asleep by 11:50, just ten minutes before the ball dropped, and, the next morning when I asked Dennis why he didn’t wake me up for the countdown, he just looked at me with an expression that said, “I’m not a fucking idiot.” After all the times he has woken me up, such as the time when he put pants on Edie when she was 3 weeks old and thought she looked funny in them and wanted me to see, he has definitely learned his lesson. (But maybe I did actually want to see the ball drop? We’ll never know. However, I woke up with a smile on my face so probably he made the right decision, and starting off the new year with smiles in the morning far surpasses ending the year seeing a fancy ball make a ten-second descent.)

Here are my resolutions for 2014. I think I can keep them, or most of them, for most of the year. Note the absence of basically anything physical.

1) Read more.

2) Spend as much time as I can with Edie.

3) Love my work again, or at least approach it with a positive attitude.

Dennis’s resolutions were something like this:

1) be active all the time everywhere and have so many projects going at the same time such as fixing cabinets, hiking, planting lavender, reading about how to compost, building a compost bin, biking to classes about gardening with compost, composting bikes, cooking after composting lavender in the new fixed cabinets while biking, and learn Spanish again.

2) spend time with Edie doing all those things at the same time, in Spanish, and also figure out how to read Russian and get the grandparents to only speak to Edie in Russian, also let’s go hang out at Eric’s house and maybe Dan and Sam want to come over for dinner?

3) There was something else, but first I want a beer can you check my spelling in this email do you still want to get Time Out New York we need milk.

So far we have both done my first resolution. I’m reading a book called “Tenth of December,” which is a collection of short stories. I don’t normally enjoy short stories because A) they move around from subject to subject too quickly and B) the styles and settings of the stories are usually inconsistent, so I feel kind of messed with. But this was a gift from Dennis so I am giving it a try. So far I am totally right about A and B, and I had to skip one of the stories because it was entitled “The Puppy” and I could tell it was going to be about the death of a puppy and I absolutely cannot read anything about the death of anyone except adult humans. So mostly I can’t read about the deaths of animals or babies. (This reminds me of the time when I was about six months pregnant and Dennis wanted to watch a movie about the genocide in Bosnia. We stopped watching it the instant a baby came to the most tragic end and I sobbed so violently while also yelling at Dennis “This is a movie about GENOCIDE. GENOCIDE, DENNIS. OF COURSE THEY ARE GOING TO HURT BABIES! WHY WOULD ANYONE WANT TO HURT BABIES? WHY DID YOU WANT TO WATCH THIS MOVIE? WHY DID YOU MAKE ME WATCH THIS MOVIE??!! WHY DID THEY HURT BABIES? WHY DID THEY HURT BABIES? I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! DON’T TOUCH ME!)  I gave Dennis a book called “Tom’s River,” which is about pollution and cancer and is, from what I can gather, kind of Erin Brokovich-y, which really appeals to me. So far all he’s said is, “There’s a lot of science in it,” which can’t be good. But it kept coming up on the New Yorker Book Concierge, so I’m just going to have to see for myself when I read it faster than Dennis can.

My boobs have made their own resolutions, each one separately. The left one said, “I resolve never to make more milk! Also I will be really small!” and the right one, sensing my disgust with the left’s revolt, and having a guilty conscience said, “I also resolve to be small and also I guess I will kind of sometimes make milk, but only like a couple of ounces over the course of the day please don’t hate me.” So, guys, we are basically on the formula train. And IT. IS. AWESOME. Okay, yeah, it’s costly, and no, it doesn’t contain immuno-anythings, but OH MY GOD I HAVE TIME AGAIN. And Edie is SLEEPING. HARD. And that means I am sleeping and when everyone is sleeping we are such a happy family. Tolstoy said all happy families are the same, but that’s not really true because there is no family happier than a formula family after months of breastfeeding the baby every twenty seven minutes with milk the consistency of air. And Edie has thunder thighs and rolls along her arms and seventeen chins and I know this was the right decision for her. She still gets whatever my body can manage to make but she is just thriving on formula and there is nothing any one in the world can say that will make me feel bad about my little girl thriving. I can own it now. It’s taken many weeks to be okay with this, but looking at her huge, chunky smile makes all of that guilt vanish.

It’s a snow day today. Even though every day is basically a snow day since I’ve been on maternity leave, there is still excitement in the air when schools are closed. This morning we had our neighbors over for pancakes and coffee and maple syrup that my friend made from the trees in his yard in Vermont. We listened to music, laughed and talked, and it was amazing and Edie wanted to nap. And then we all realized it was only 9:30. The whole day is still ahead of us! The snow has stopped in the city and now it’s just plow after plow making its way down 34th Avenue, and the occasional sound of spinning tires from all of the folks who are trying to get places but who just don’t know how to drive in the winter.

Have a great day, everyone. And happy new year!

December 21, 2013 / ginavoskov2013

Home for the holidays.

This Christmas we are in Vermont. We are always in Vermont for Christmas, so this is no different from normal, but this year, of course, we have Edie and I’ll go on record saying that I purchased more for her than I did my husband, even though I know all she will really enjoy are the ribbons and bits of tape.

But she has to have little Minnetonka shearling booties. And an illustrated copy of The Secret Garden. And all the other things she won’t be conscious that she owns until she’s 7 and sees them in photos. But that’s okay. This is her first Christmas and, as such, she deserves everything. Also, I justified all of those purchases by remembering it is her first Christmas.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking recently, and what I want to say is that my breasts will never, ever be the same after breastfeeding. They have sunk a full two inches down the length of my torso and, as I explained to a friend of mine earlier this week, they look like deflated whoopie cushions. I’m afraid I won’t ever want to wear low-cut tops because there is literally no cleavage. Not that I had any to begin with but they were high and young. Motherhood hasn’t exactly aged me but it sure has aged my boobs and that’s not a thrilling revelation.

Pregnancy and childbirth do a number on your body, and bouncing back from all of that is equally troubling to watch. I say watch because apart from the three miles I ran back in August when I thought I’d get back into running, I haven’t lifted a finger in the name of fitness. So watching my body figure itself out after all that beautiful nonsense is painful. I have hormones like a teenage boy–and not the sexy hormones, I’m talking the pimply kind. Awesome. Also, after a six-month period of post-partum hair loss, wherein I was pulling clumps of hair from my scalp during every shower session, I think I’m back to normal. It was terrifying, and while I’d heard that the cocktail of ridiculous pregnancy hormones would ravish the least expected parts of my body, nothing prepared me for watching the better part of my head wash down the drain everyday.
Also: no muscle tone except for my biceps and that’s because I’ve been carrying around 7-15 pounds of wiggly flesh for 7-15 hours a day. I love the idea of getting back in shape but I honestly have no idea how to do it. And don’t tell me to do some aerobics in my living room. A) it’s just never going to happen, and B) it will never happen.
Oh, also? If you’re my husband, and I tell you casually that my boobs are weird now and you respond, “Well, all you have to do is, you know, get back into shape. Boobs are muscles and you can get them into shape!” then you need to be ready for some long, cold silences and dead eyes when you try to make eye contact with me.

So we are up in Vermont and I’m thrilled to be spending so much time here. We have been up twice before, but only for a few days. Edie is a notoriously terrible sleeper when we travel so I’m both bracing myself for sleepless nights and trying to get her used to sleeping outside our home. Last night she had two wake-ups, which is one more than normal, so we are off to a good start; however, every time I talk about her good sleep she sinks into a period of shitty sleep so let’s forget we ever had this talk.

Dennis has made me a glass of egg nog with bourbon. This is how I intend to get back into shape.

PS: When I read this to Dennis, he said, “we can do a workout tomorrow if we are stuck inside!” I said, “Did you not just hear what I read?” And he said, “Yes! It was a cry for help!”

December 17, 2013 / ginavoskov2013


I didn’t realize, guys, that I’d written three times in a row about how I can now “introduce solids.” And considering I write like once a month, that means I’ve been writing about the same thing for three months. You’re either not picking up on this yourselves or you’re so incredibly kind as to not mention it–kind of like when I have salad in my teeth and you don’t say a thing and I just go on smiling, which is always fun. I was going to write once more about introducing solids, but I’m actually pretty much past the introduction of them and am giving Edie new things all the time. She’s eaten, among other foods, paneer, yogurt, avocado, papaya, and yesterday had some kind of apple/plum/kamut puree. Do you know what kamut is? I had no idea, but it sounded ancient and hippy-ish, and so I bought it. It’s wheat. 

I have read so much about when to introduce certain foods and how and why and blah, blah, blah. Years ago, I think the rule of thumb was to introduce one new food a week to see if the baby would have an allergic reaction. When we talked to our pediatrician, she said don’t bother with that. Why wait to find out if your child has an allergy? It’s better to know sooner, was her reasoning. That is fine with me, so I’ve been giving Edie tastes of nearly everything I’m eating, except for, obviously, the chocolate chip cookie dough that I made last week (from which I produced exactly 8 cookies and saved the rest of the dough to eat as dough. Don’t judge.) So far she has been totally fine and had zero reactions. Unless farting is a reaction? Because then she must be allergic to everything.

When did all these allergies, and fear of allergies, develop? During my first years of teaching, I had students who were allergic to NOTHING. Ten years later and students are allergic to all sorts of things: wheat, sugar, dairy, butterflies, cold air, mittens, rumors… (Side note: my first years of teaching were spent in an inner-city school system where most kids received free or reduced lunch. Now I teach at a private school in Manhattan where there’s no such thing as “free or reduced” and suddenly there are all types of food allergies.  Could food allergies somehow be related to people’s socioeconomic status?) I didn’t know a single kid who was allergic to food when I was growing up and I think that’s because our parents weren’t super careful about us. I mean, they cared for us but didn’t hover over us. Or use hand sanitizer. We didn’t even have hand sanitizer. When did that even come onto the market as something all households should have? My family didn’t have hand sanitizer. This is not to say we all lived in hovels made of dirt, but our parents were definitely not afraid of us playing in it. I literally played on a dirt pile in my friend’s back yard for a solid year straight–in the winter, too. I’ve never had as much fun since. And it’s pretty likely a good amount of dirt ended up in my mouth, which is probably the reason I don’t have any food allergies. Both Dennis and I are strong believers that getting dirty makes kids stronger. I don’t mean that we should be sending Edith outside to play in trash cans or that I’m going to feed her an e coli and salmonella puree, but a small amount of dirt isn’t going to hurt her.

You know, anything to justify the fact that my house is an insane mess.

No, but what I mean is that I think we have a whole generation of kids whose parents are too concerned about germs, creating environments that are unnaturally clean, so kids’ immune systems freak out when they encounter a new substance. My grandparents’ generation pretty much let their kids chew on raw shellfish straight out of the womb, so I’m going to try to strike a balance between unhealthy exposure to allergens and making Edie live in a plastic bubble. I’m probably slightly less cautious of germs than the average New York City parent. We stopped using hand sanitizer a few weeks after Edie was born because I kept losing all the travel sized bottles. When a toy falls on the floor in my house, I brush it off and give it back to her. Obviously, when another child sucks on Edie’s pacifier, I don’t pop it straight into her mouth, so I have limits to my reluctance to clean things, most of which is motivated by laziness and a belief that she will be fine.

However, I’ve been developing some anxiety about the trip to Belize. Not because of a fear of allergies, but a fear of her getting sick from the water. I fired my boobs since they weren’t filling out their TPS reports, so Edie is mostly on formula, which means I need to mix it with water. I was boiling the water for a month until our pediatrician said I didn’t need to bother. But what about Belize? Do I bring water with me? Will she be okay with the bottled water in Belize? Should I boil that, too? And what about fruit? Can I just give her fruit? Do I need to cook it or do anything special to it? Ugh. Help me.


December 6, 2013 / ginavoskov2013

Chew on this.

It turns out that the scariest thing about motherhood so far has been to realize that Edie needs to learn to chew and swallow. Now that she is six months (today!) we can really start to introduce solids. I’ve been doing a lot of reading about Baby Led Weaning (which, when said fast, sounds a lot like “baby linguine.” And that’s what Dennis keeps calling it whenever I tell him to read about Baby Led Weaning, for crying out loud, and his response is always to say “Baby linguine!” So I know he’s not actually reading about Baby Led Weaning.) BLW is all about letting kids experiment with whole foods so that they learn to chew them, instead of pureeing all sorts of fruits and vegetables. This means giving kids slices of apples, chunks of broccoli, toast sticks, and as one message board proclaimed–spaghetti bolognese. So I just dived right in and gave Edie an apple slice which she sucked on to her heart’s content a few weeks ago. It was awesome to watch her eyes light up at the new flavor! I continued with pear, avocado, clementine, anything that I was sure she would just love.

Then she realized that if she really put her energy into gumming the fruit she could get some meat out of it, and that’s when I started hovering my finger near her cheek anytime she had a piece of food she was sucking on just in case I needed to sweep it out of her mouth.

I regret that every single time she’s bit off a piece of food larger than a snowflake I have reached in and taken it out of her mouth. I know she has to learn to chew things, but watching her gag on the smallest little fragment of food is SO scary. She doesn’t have any teeth, but according to BLW philosophy that shouldn’t be a deterrent from giving kids food to experiment with. I haven’t stopped giving her whole fruits to suck on because she loves them so much and I don’t want my fear to get in the way of her learning

So I need to hear from you. How did you teach your kids to eat?

December 3, 2013 / ginavoskov2013


On Friday, Edie will be six months old. I’ve been trying to process that for a while now. I’ve also continued to process that I am actually a mother. It’s been six months, and I still can’t believe it, so now you get an idea about my processing skills.

She is sleeping now, one of her two or three naps every day. Since she was four months old, she’s been a really solid day sleeper, for which I am extremely thankful. But it does make it hard to do things during the day, so I find myself keeping busy at home. And by “busy” I mean refreshing my FaceBook page and hoping for email. Also tracking packages for all of my online purchases. Because it’s hard to get outside, I do all of my shopping on the Internet. And I buy WAY more shit that no one needs that way. I think the Internet was made for stay-at-home parents whose babies keep them trapped at home.

People are always asking about milestones. “Is she rolling over?” “Is she sleeping through the night?” It’s immediately clear to me who has children or not when I get questions like, “Is she talking?” or “When will she walk?” They’re the exact same questions I asked only a year ago.
So let’s talk about the milestones in our family at six months:

1) I have spent one night “away” from Edie. That night was actually at her grandparents’ house, when I slept downstairs and she slept upstairs and her grandparents took care of her through the night. The purpose of that night was so I could get some sleep, but I woke up every time she woke up and also every time she didn’t wake up.

2) I can travel by myself with her. We spent two nights, just the two of us, in an apartment in Boston a couple of weeks ago. I knew I was in for some rough nights because Edie just does NOT sleep when we are away from home. (WHY?? Someone please help me.) Apart from the nighttime, we had a great time. I visited all of my old neighborhoods, wandered around Newbury Street, and met lots of friends at the conference where I was presenting. And during my presentation, my good friend and colleague babysat her in the apartment. That was officially the first time I left her with anyone not related to me.

3) I left her with someone not related to me.

4) I get to stay home one more month with her! A few weeks ago, I told Dennis that I didn’t want to go back to work at all. So that would mean nine more months without a paycheck. Dennis wasn’t thrilled about that (and, frankly, neither was I) so we compromised. Edie will be nine months old by the time I go back to work. I think that’s a good first year for her–for both of us, actually. And the best part is that she will only have to be in someone else’s care for 6 weeks. Dennis stops working in May and gets two months off, so then he can be a stay-at-home dad.

5) House cleaners are THE SHIT. In my adult life, I have never had other people clean my house apart from the couple of times in Brazil when I thought I kind of had to, but then felt weird about it and decided I’d be okay with everything covered in a thin layer of dust. But for the past few months, we have invested in that delicious service and I am really afraid that I’ll never go back. Who am I kidding–I’m not afraid.

And now for the baby milestones. Edie can:

  • Sit up unsupported.
  • Stand with support.
  • Eat a few solids–she’s tackled: apple, pear, mango, clementine, banana, butternut squash, and avocado. Of the above, the only one she’s really eaten and digested is the squash–the others she’s just gummed and sucked on with the occasional chunk coming off and into her mouth. And the avocado she mostly just spread all over her tray.
  • Roll over in all directions. We’re working on somersaults, but I think we have a couple weeks left before she can really do it on her own.
  • Sleep on her stomach sometimes–which results in super deep sleep. Yay!

She can do so many more things, but these are the big new developments within the past two weeks. It is just amazing how quickly she is changing!


And now for some questions for you.

1) Why the hell can’t she sleep away from home? (We’ve tried replicating everything–the sound machine, the position in the bed, the clothes that smell like home, the blanket, the routine….)

2) In January, I may be taking her to Belize if I can get our passports sorted. (PS, do you know how difficult it is to get a passport for a baby?? I mean, thank god, but wow.) I’ll be traveling by myself with her to then meet up with family for about a week. What tips do you have for me about  airplane travel, solo travel, and beach vacations?



November 20, 2013 / ginavoskov2013

This is a placeholder for actual writing.

I’m writing this while an unopened delivery bag of arroz con pollo sits on the table. My house smells like burnt carrot and I haven’t showered. I have milk staining my shirt from when Edie drooled while falling asleep nursing and the only thing I have had today is coffee. I am pretty sure I could not even imagine what this whole thing was supposed to be like when I first saw that “+” sign on the stick, but ignorance is bliss, right?

This is bliss, too, most of the time. But what is not so much bliss is that Edie has found a new sound to make, namely one she makes while clinging to my neck, opening her mouth, pushing noise out, and not stopping for…let’s see…it’s been five hours now. It’s not the sweet babble I’m used to, it’s more the sound of a squished cow giving birth. Kind of like this:  “Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhv.”


If I could make a sound right now, it would probably be that one, too.

I am not going to talk about sleep because I AM SO TIRED OF TALKING ABOUT SLEEP. Please, please, please. Do not ask me about sleep. Can you imagine what sleep with an infant is like after going for 34 years without one? If so, please try to continue imagining it and then you’ll have your answer. Why the first question a person asks a new mother is “How are you sleeping?” is beyond me. The topic of sleep is OFF LIMITS. FOREVER. I don’t even care if you’re related to me. We will not talk about sleep.


I don’t know what I was thinking, starting a new blog. Like I’d have time to write?

We are going to Boston tomorrow. Just the two of us. I’m going to present at a conference. I am admitting here, right now, that fewer than 48 hours are left and I have yet to practice. This time last year, when I presented at the same conference, I had rehearsed that thing inside out. Now I am staring at that arroz con pollo and thinking I can probably wing the presentation.

Here’s something interesting. Now that Edie’s almost 6 months, she can start to have food other than milk. So I’ve given her apple, pear, clementine, and banana. She loves them all and sobs when I take the chunks of fruit away from her. She has no teeth, so she can only suck on the juice, but I can tell she’s going to be very excited about food. Just like her mother. Actually, I can tell she’s going to be pretty food motivated, too, (also just like her mother) because I got her to roll over this morning while holding a piece of clementine above her head. I gave it to her afterwards, don’t worry.

You guys, it is time to eat. I apologize for the weeks and weeks of not writing, but, you know, see above.

And don’t get me wrong. This little hectic moment is but a sliver of my days with Edie. She is a total peach and I am madly in love with her. Do not think for a moment that I am not thrilled with being her mother. It is okay to write about the hard times.