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Nov. 19th, 2008 03:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
molly_oI guess LJ was down? I didn't notice so much, seeing as how RM and I are halfway around the world with a small person who pretty much has to be touching one of us 24/7. (She is shaping up to be a Daddy's girl, and RM is all worried my feelings will be hurt, and I'm like, dude? I'm allowed to sleep without a 24-pound dead weight on my right shoulder all night long, I think I'll get over it.)
She is so fucking AWESOME. (I suppose I should say f-ing awesome, being a parent now.)
She will eat ANYTHING. She has eaten and apparently enjoyed every single thing we've tried out -- and mostly, we buy her adult food and give her little bits of it; it's one of the wonderful things about becoming parents to an 11-month old, all the food restrictions that apply to infants are pretty much done. The only thing she seems not to like is strawberry yogurt. (She's doing much better than Mark: he's eaten half a cheeseburger and one scrambled egg in the four days we've been here. OK, that's an exaggeration, but not much of one.)
Today at the national palace museum, she got bored with the cheerios I was feeding her one at a time and started feeding them back to me. It was so cute I almost died on the spot.
She hates baths, diapers changes, and clothing changes with a hatred that burns like a thousand fiery suns. During those events, she screams at a pitch I would think only dogs could hear, except that we can totally hear it. The whole block can hear it. Yesterday one of her socks fell off somewhere in the hotel corridor -- I have no idea when/where -- ad they brought it straight to our room, because there's no mistaking which room has a kid in it. But she doesn't hold grudges: As soon as the torment stops, she's fine.
She LOVES walking outside and looking at everything -- mopeds, fountains, flashing neon, you name it. When Mark and I are both in the room, she much prefers to be held by daddy (baba), but as soon as I step out in the hall with her in the carrier, she gets all quiet, and then we'll take a walk to the park together and I'll give her some milk and cheerios and bits of nori (I think it's nori -- they call it dried laver, it's the sheets of dried seaweed you use to make sushi rolls? that is one of her favorite snacks ever, her foster mom gave us a package with 50 individual packets of little strips of it, and it's been a godsend), and she hangs out on my lap and then dozes off and sleeps on me.
She doesn't say anything yet (in English or Mandarin, that we can tell), but she knows her nickname -- if you say Ai Ai, she'll turn and see what you want.
When baba is carrying her and she drinks from her sippy cup, she flings her head back and throws one arm out, and it's so sweet, and you can tell she *trusts* us, which is just amazing.
I will try to post some photos sometime, the internet is iffy here.
She is so fucking AWESOME. (I suppose I should say f-ing awesome, being a parent now.)
She will eat ANYTHING. She has eaten and apparently enjoyed every single thing we've tried out -- and mostly, we buy her adult food and give her little bits of it; it's one of the wonderful things about becoming parents to an 11-month old, all the food restrictions that apply to infants are pretty much done. The only thing she seems not to like is strawberry yogurt. (She's doing much better than Mark: he's eaten half a cheeseburger and one scrambled egg in the four days we've been here. OK, that's an exaggeration, but not much of one.)
Today at the national palace museum, she got bored with the cheerios I was feeding her one at a time and started feeding them back to me. It was so cute I almost died on the spot.
She hates baths, diapers changes, and clothing changes with a hatred that burns like a thousand fiery suns. During those events, she screams at a pitch I would think only dogs could hear, except that we can totally hear it. The whole block can hear it. Yesterday one of her socks fell off somewhere in the hotel corridor -- I have no idea when/where -- ad they brought it straight to our room, because there's no mistaking which room has a kid in it. But she doesn't hold grudges: As soon as the torment stops, she's fine.
She LOVES walking outside and looking at everything -- mopeds, fountains, flashing neon, you name it. When Mark and I are both in the room, she much prefers to be held by daddy (baba), but as soon as I step out in the hall with her in the carrier, she gets all quiet, and then we'll take a walk to the park together and I'll give her some milk and cheerios and bits of nori (I think it's nori -- they call it dried laver, it's the sheets of dried seaweed you use to make sushi rolls? that is one of her favorite snacks ever, her foster mom gave us a package with 50 individual packets of little strips of it, and it's been a godsend), and she hangs out on my lap and then dozes off and sleeps on me.
She doesn't say anything yet (in English or Mandarin, that we can tell), but she knows her nickname -- if you say Ai Ai, she'll turn and see what you want.
When baba is carrying her and she drinks from her sippy cup, she flings her head back and throws one arm out, and it's so sweet, and you can tell she *trusts* us, which is just amazing.
I will try to post some photos sometime, the internet is iffy here.