more baby picks

I think the cat is jealous


all tuckered out

clean diaper and an full tummy!

Poopariffic!

Ah the joys of infant-hood. You have nothing to do in life except, eat, sleep, look absolutely adorable, grow and poop. My granddaughter at five days old and counting has become a poop expert already. She has in her short lifetime discovered ways to render her parents to shouts of horror when they discover either the timing or the capacity of what she is done after she is completely finished with her milk.

Before she left the hospital, she was demonstrating her expertise in baby waste management. Ten minutes after she was born, she was "decorating" the bassinet while the nurse was cleaning her up from the birthing process. The paper with her little footprints will permanently bear the mark of that event. She managed to fill three diapers in about 10 minutes a day later, soil herself and every cloth item in contact with her wee body, and reduce her mommy and daddy to tears of laughter.

Tonight her daddy was changing her. He was getting ready to remove the dirty diaper from under her little bottom when the baby decided to show daddy that she wasn't done yet. I could hear his protest from across the house. I walked in, saw the mess, the satisfied look on my grandchild's face, and turned right around and walked out laughing.

If its any consolation, we can rest assured that her digestive system works, exceedingly well. She goes for her first check-up in the morning. And we'll get assurance that little Helene' is perfectly healthy, and sometimes a tad stinky.

Hello little darlin

Stevie Wonder wrote a song honoring the birth of his daughter. "Isn't she lovely, Isn't she wonderful" the words say. I can related. The birth of my first grandchild has been one of amazement and joy. I can't get enough of her. We all stand over her crib and watch her sleep, oo-ing and awe-ing over every facial expression. Because I'm such a proud granny, I just had to share in this blog.

Mommy, Daddy and me, think that's my new bed behind us.

My first car ride. SHHH...don't tell, mommy wept tears of joy all the way home.


Setting a new trend in infant hairstyles.


my first outfit.
zzzzzzzzz


Daddy and me saying hello. He showed me that its ok for grown men to cry, cause he was all weepy when I showed up. I wuv my daddy.



Hewo mommy



She's only a few minutes old in these two pictures, finally having calmed down after being poked prodded, weighed and measured. Mommy and little Helene' are getting acquainted.

The double exit version

Here's a bit of advice. Every home that contains people younger then you should be equipped with a full body environmental suit sized to best fit the person in that home who is deemed primary care taker, or in simpler terms the mom. Why this recommendation? Because of how I spent the last couple of days.

My youngest, who is usually a vibrant enthusiastic young lady, woke up at 3 am the other morning. She started by moaning loud enough to wake her sister in the next room, who then bellowed loud enough to wake me at the other end of the house. I tried to ignore the noise. Too late. I next heard crying and discovered that my youngest had found herself in full throes of the Stomach flu, the double exit at once version. I got the girl some water to sip, and folded up the ruined bathroom rug, trying hard to get the vision of its contents out of my brain.

10 minutes later I hear moaning again. Crap, so much for sleep. I get up and go to her room. "I feel like I need to throw up mom!" She says pitifully. "Then get up and go to the bathroom." About this time the older sister, ever the compassionate one, Walks to her door, let's out a growl, and slams her door. The sickly one shows no sign of moving, so I drag my sleepy butt back to bed.

For about five minutes. The next thing I know, this child is by my bed. "I threw up." She said. I didn't have to guess, she hadn't made it to the bathroom. So into mine she went, while I got up and pulled off her bedding to add to the bathroom rug, and YES climbed back in bed beside her.

I got her clean linens for her bed a couple of hours later. Got her stuff to sip on and Tylenol. Within 48 hours she was fine. Just in time for me to get sick. I am now pretty certain I can about determine how much the average human intestine can hold. About 12 hours worth of stuff, if you dole it out in 15 minute increments. My husband, the intrepid trucker, came home the day after his daughter got sick, and now is in his second day of this gastrointestinal adventure.

It shouldn't be too hard to guess when I should have donned the enviro-suit that I have yet to purchase.