You know you're a new mom when...

...you find pacifiers down your shirt. Not kidding, this has happened twice. Last night, I get down on my stomach to join Brooke in tummy time and kept feeling something hard underneath me. Assuming it was just a button on my shirt, I roll over and feel a hard lump. A pacifier. 2nd time this week.

...you have no interest in shopping for yourself, yet you instantly gravitate towards babyGap the second you enter the mall.

...your husband gets home from work and you're still in last night's pajamas, but your baby is on her third outfit of the day (sometimes more with the Poop Monster here.)

...(speaking of last night's PJ's) you sleep in whatever you wore that day because, let's be honest, you don't wear anything that isn't comfortable and sleep-worthy anymore.

...the most frequently used word in your vocabulary is "pappy", and it's not even a real word (it's our word for pacifier.)

...wait, today's Thursday? What happened to Tuesday and Wednesday?

...you're 2 sips into a mimosa at Grandma's 95th birthday brunch and you can feel it, thanks to a wicked combo of sleep deprivation and being sober for a year.

...you find yourself encouraging your child's bodily functions. "C'mon, baby girl, give Mommy a big burp" and "Just poop it out, Big Lady, you'll feel so much better if you get it all out" are daily phrases.

...you catch yourself listening to (and enjoying) the Disney Lullabies CD in the car when you know your little princess is fast asleep...and has been for awhile.

...you've mastered one-handed typing. And eating. And cooking. And laundry. And just about every other task.

More to come, I'm sure :)

Brooke & Daddy.

He may not always think so, but Brooke loves her Daddy. Sure, she's often fussy and inconsolable when she's with him. It doesn't help that her crankiest and most awake time of the day is between dinner and bedtime, right when he gets home from work. So, she's hit and miss with happiness for most of the time she spends with him. And it doesn't help that she instantly calms down once he hands her to me. Talk about frustrating for him (still boggles my mind that I am the person that can do that...) But when it's time to play or sleep, Daddy's the guy for her.

He almost always takes her the second he gets home from work, which is a-okay for Mommy, who is usually ready for a tiny break at that point. If she's asleep, they cuddle. If she's awake, they play. He's pretty aggressive with her, scaring me at times. I think I'm less scared for her safety and more scared for his clothes. Throwing an infant into the sky (and by throwing I, of course, mean just gently lifting her - see below), especially the Spit Up Queen that has taken up residence in our house lately, frequently results in dirty laundry; it's just a fact. And guess who does all the laundry... Anyway, I've been around my share of babies and I know she won't break as he throws her around and pushes her quickly in her swing - that doesn't mean I don't get a little nervous.

They have conversations together (video to come - too cute!) They have staring contests. They have watched their fair share of TV together (poor baby girl has to watch Daddy's DVR'ed History Channel shows...) Brooke and Daddy are best-good friends. And let me tell ya, it's precious to see. Daddy thought he wanted a little boy, but this little girl has him wrapped around her chunky little finger already :)

Seven Weeks.

Seven weeks already - I can't believe it! It's been quite a busy week for Miss Brooke. She celebrated the start of her first Olympics (hooray!!), her baptism, and her first Valentine's Day. All 3 events were wonderful. She's been loving the Olympics as much as her Mommy, even staying up late to watch Bob Costas' full coverage (our sleep has seriously taken a hit due to the Olympics!) Her baptism and the party after went off without a hitch. She was an angel during the service and wasn't even bothered by the water as it was poured on her head. Valentine's Day was a lazy day for the whole family; we literally napped the day away, staying in and even getting Chinese take-out. She was all dressed up for the occasion (see below), just with nowhere to go!

Brooke is super animated now. She can now be entertained by hanging objects on her swing or car seat for a decent chunk of time. She laughs all the time, straight up Stevie Wonder-style with the closed eyes, open-mouthed goofy grin, and head swivel. Too cute. She's a huge fan of Mommy singing Old McDonald to her - she even sings along with a Moo-Moo here and a Moo-Moo there :) She hates her car seat more than ever, but we've attached a blinking musical toy to it that seems to be helping calm her a bit. Hmmm, what else...still a poop monster. Still wearing 6 mo. clothes (but the 6 mo. Ralph Lauren stuff is already getting too small...sigh.) Weighing in yesterday at 14 lbs 13 oz.

To make up for the picture-less post, I even have a little video for you from Valentine's Day. The end of it is the best part, so try to suffer your way through my voice to get to the end. Enjoy!

Time Out.

The Reeder House had its first time out tonight. Who would have thought we'd reach this milestone before Brooke was even 7 weeks old? Only it wasn't the Big Lady in Time Out; it was Mommy. (C'mon, who puts an almost 7-weeker in time out? What would that even entail? "You lay there on the floor instead of in your swing and think about what you did while you stare aimlessly around the room as usual, young lady!" I mean, really...) Anyway, I put myself in Time Out tonight.

After spending close to an hour trying to make dinner, she wakes up from a small nap just as we're sitting down to eat. I got through about 4 bites of mac n' cheese and a bit of zucchini before she decided it was time for her dinner (an hour early, mind you.) So, my baked potato remained untouched and was cold by the time I got back to it after her feeding. (Random dinner, you say? Blame Ash Wednesday.) I was so frustrated by the whole scenario that I just gave up on eating, passed her off to Daddy, and sent myself to my room for an hour. See, I was starting to get snippy with my baby girl and, at 7 weeks, she doesn't deserve my frustration. So I removed myself from the situation for a while. Daddy handled her perfectly while I was away and was being extra sweet to her when I finally came back down (maybe he sensed Mommy's attitude from earlier and decided to compensate for it with the munchkin - thanks, honey.)

All is well now, as the Big One is nestled in my neck sleeping as we speak. I apologized for being short with her; she forgave me with a precious little grin. (She kinda had to forgive me...I am her milk supplier.) So yeah, we're friends again :)


- I know what you're thinking: "WHAT?! A picture-less post? Why did I bother reading through that whole ridiculous diatribe, full of whining and 'Oh, woe is me' moments, if I wasn't going to be rewarded with an absurdly adorable picture of her chubby baby at the end? What a waste." Not to worry, blog readers (...both of you...) I'll make up for it tomorrow.

Hi there.

Oh, hello. Do you like my fantastic headband and 80's-style leg warmers? How about my heavenly smiles? I mean, seriously, they need to develop a new word for me because "cute" and "adorable" just don't cut it.

Six Weeks.

Our little girl has made it to 6 weeks! She's becoming quite a little character, hamming it up for us all the time now. We are blessed with adorable little smiles, laughs, and coos on a daily basis. It's absolutely heartwarming. After a long, rough day at work, she can get her Daddy to cheer up quickly. She suddenly seems so old to me!

Well, the Big Lady has gotten even bigger. We've topped 14 lbs this week, meaning we're close to having added 50% of her birth weight in just six weeks. Holy moley. We graduated to size 2 diapers a few weeks ago, but have now completely ditched any 3 month clothing items and moved straight to 6 months in all brands. sigh. Her baptism is this weekend and we're going to squeeze her into my Christening dress from 1984. I was 9 lbs 8 oz when I was born, but I didn't plump up quite as quickly as she has, so we'll see how this goes!

The precious little pictures that are gracing this blog post are from her 6 week pictures that we took today. Most of the photos are in the same outfit because we started to melt down after awhile (the outfit/diaper change mid-shoot was just a little too much for her.) Everyone's first impressions so far? She looks so big...those cheeks, the double chin, the fact that she's neck-less in most of them. All so adorably chubby. Those cheeks are irresistible, aren't they? (Disclaimer: I was not prepared to be in photos today, but the only way she was quiet in outfit #2 was if she was held by Mommy. I didn't buy any of the ones with me in them, but I thought I'd share a few.)

Girly girl.

People frequently mistake babies to be the opposite gender. No one has done this for my child. Why? Could it be her girly face with the long eyelashes? Could it be the pink outfits she's always wearing? My best guess = headbands. Brooke has a headband on her head most of the time. Partly because I think they're adorable and she looks like a little princess in them. But mostly because I can't bear the thought of someone mistaking my Big Mama (my newest nickname for her - I'm fully aware of how random I am...) for a boy. She's 100% girl and will dress like a girly girl (whether she likes it or not) until she's old enough to dress herself...at like age 18.

All of this brings me to her Jordan outfit. Her uncles gave her this before she was even born, when everyone still held out hope that we'd have a boy. Alas, she was born a lady but still needed to dawn her little jersey-onesie to one of Daddy's basketball games. (Perhaps I should explain this further for those that don't know my husband as well. When I met him, he owned more shoes than me. Most of them were in the form of Air Jordans #'s 1-23. [I'm sure I'll get a lesson tomorrow on which ones he truly does and does not own, but I know it's many of these...] It's an obsession that I'm happy he outgrew. That's not to say we don't still have a stack of size 13's in orange boxes in the closet in our guest room...) So anyway, Brooke wore her little Jordan outfit to Daddy's game and it did look pretty cute. But I caught myself saying a million times "She looks like a boy," pretty much every time we showed her off to someone new. Apparently I have a complex about this. To remedy this, I wrapped her in a pink blanket and fought the urge to put her headband on over top of the hat.

(Oh, and can we talk about how big she is? Yowza. She looks so much bigger just this week. We're definitely over 13 lbs.)