Holy shit. Christmas is in two weeks.

We need to get off our fannies and do some stuff. Especially in the ordering/buying presents department.

But it could be worse. We could be in the same situation we were in last year. At least this year, none of my family is in ICU.

Penny's still got her cold, but she's been so good, I swear, you'd think she was happier sick than well. Which is good, because now both Matt and I have the cold, too.

We took her to the grocery store with us last night, as always, and she started to get fussy about halfway through. (Actually, she started getting fussy at the very beginning, because she hates it when we stop moving her. She is a Baby Of Action! An Explorer! She needs to Go Places! And See Things!)

Anyway, about halfway through the store, simply moving the cart stopped cheering her up. So Matt picked up the blanket that was over her lap and draped it over his shoulder, preparatory to picking her up. And suddenly, she was fine.

"Are you not happy unless Dad is wearing the spit-up cloth?" Matt asked her. "Does it take Dad looking like a dork to make you smile?"

Putting her to bed last night was kind of weird, too. She fell asleep on Matt's lap, so he took her up and put her in the crib. She woke up as he put her down, of course, but she didn't get upset, so he turned out the light and came downstairs. This usually works.

Last night, after about ten or fifteen minutes, she started fussing. I went upstairs, intending to just turn on the light and stand where she could see me, to see if that would calm her down. (It's about time to start learning how to self-soothe, which means going back to sleep without being picked up. Step one: Calm down without being held. I do pick her up if fussing turns into actual crying, but it usually doesn't.)

The instant I turned on the light, she stopped fussing. Curious, I crossed to the crib and found that she had pulled her blanket most of the way over her face, and she was looking very intently at the little cloth book we keep in her crib. I fixed the blanket, and she looked at me for about half a second before turning back to the book. She started trying to roll toward it, but she hasn't figured out rolling yet.

Fine. She wants to practice rolling, and/or look at her toys? I'm not going to object, as long as she's quiet about it. I left the light on, and went to change for bed myself.

I peeked in on her a bit later, and she was doing the same thing - looking at the book, and twisting her torso toward it with all her might. (Hips, Penny-love. You've got to get the hips into the project if you're going to turn over.)

Ten minutes or so later, she started crying, right out of the blue. Huge wails of sorrow and anger. By the time I made it into her room, though, she'd stopped, and was once again half-rolling and looking at her toys. She didn't even look at me when I straightened her blanket again. Two minutes after that, she was asleep.

Self-soothing. Very important skill.

--Liz