Nessa is so big, we went ahead and ordered her up a brand new car seat and a big girl umbrella stroller. She's a bit small for both, but we have no doubt she'll be filling them out soon. See Daddio manning the stroller at a local art fair...
Mama has joined a walking group with some of the mothers she met at our birthing (lamaze) classes. It's helpful Vanny is starting to like walks and strollers, since I have a bulging disc in my back. While I was getting a nice massage at the sports club, Daddio took Vanessa and Milo for a walk in the Baby Bjorn. An older gentleman on a golf cart paused to chat. He pointed to Milo and said, "He looks like he might have a little pit bull in him." Yes, Daddio said, people have wondered about that before. Then he pointed to our wee Nessers, who was snoozing on Daddio's chest with only her generously endowed legs visible and said, "Now that one, he's ALL pit bull!" And with a nod and a wink he buzzed off. Jack and I are still laughing at that one!
When VH1 isn't impressing old men, she's hanging out with her managerie. Yes, yes: she has the entire household wrapped around her chubby monkey digit. She is now chortling regularly at her golden brother Milo. Her eyes bug out, her arms flap, and she catches her breath whenever she spies rickety old Alley slinking through the room. To say that the pets like the Vanessa child is a gross understatement. They, um, adore her.
I've been so enthused about being able to walk with VanNestle in a stroller (rather than in my arms, straining my aching back) that I ventured downtown with her. It was lovely. Lovely, that is, until she started to scream. You see, it was so very interesting she forgot to fall asleep. Then she was over-tired and hungry. By the time I got to the Mission, about one mile from home, I had to sit on a park bench to nurse her. She was inconsolable by this point, and quite the spectacle.
Luckily, there was a brisk marine wind whipping through the streets of downtown, so, as I very demurely covered my bare chest to attach my screaming, writhing, red-faced infant to her food source, the wind repeatedly managed to lift the corner of my nursing blanket and press it all over my face. Several times. My bosom, belly, and howling monkey daughter were very much exposed during all this. I smiled my way through it all, as I attempted to wrangle my 20 lb. Tasmanian Devil with one hand and quickly shield my shining white body parts with the other. Did I mention I was downtown on a public bench? Let's just say there are no photos of that, and no, we've not ventured downtown again.
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