My little BYU basketball enthusiast

This is Katie during the San Diego State game on Saturday.

Go Cougars!

Final score: BYU 80, SDSU 67. The fans were so angry they started throwing stuff on the court.

My baby could eat yours for lunch!

Okay, not really. But only because she's not really into that whole "solid foods" thing.

When we went to church on Sunday, everyone was like "whoa, she's so tiny!" And compared to all of their babies, yeah, she is. But their babies are mostly boys and are all, like, six months bigger than her.

I'm talking compared to her birth weight. Kid's a tank compared to the dainty little 7 lbs, 14 oz she was when I met her. Also? FIVE INCHES LONGER. Maybe her daddy's tall-and-skinny-ness will save her from being short and round like her mom. (Don't try to deny it. I've got "curves." I can deal with that. :)

In other news, I have almost NOTHING to blog about. My class was even canceled this week. Which means that when we have class next Tuesday, I will have not been to class for two weeks. Who does that? Only a project class. And I don't have a full schedule like the rest of my class. I stay at home with my six-week-old daughter, who's not quite up to peekaboo level yet. Mostly she just giggles while I'm changing her diaper or suckering her nose, then when she's hungry she pulls the baby bird quickly followed by soprano accompaniment (fortissimo, by the way. Ain't no dulce piano music around this house).

It's nearly 4 pm and I just barely put on some makeup. It's like the 1950s all over again. I spend all day in my pajamas with the baby, then manage to shower and put on my pearls before Mike gets home. (Okay, I give. I don't get as far as the pearls. A hairbrush and some mascara happen on a good day. But still, most people shower in the morning, or sometimes leave their house.)

We've also discussed actually getting the swing from my parents' basement. Unproductivity has driven me batty and Katie doesn't do well just on the floor. The problem: for the next three weeks we have obligations every Sunday, and can't get up to Boise. Drat. I'll have to entertain the baby myself. Let's just hope I can get to the dishes before we have to just pour our cereal directly on the table and eat it like puppies. (ps- mom, we still have your hat. If we ever do manage to come visit, make sure you tell me to pack it.)

I wasn't kidding. I don't have anything else to say. Besides, Katie's gonna wake up soon, and then she'll be hungry, which will mean that I have to feed her and won't be able to do anything else. Maybe I should just sit on the floor and watch my toenails grow.

My first experience with REAL vomit: Katie vs. the World

This weekend has been a particularly eventful one. Last week, Mike had a cold and sore throat. He did his best, but he ended up giving Katie his cold and me his sore throat. What could be more fun?

Now let me tell you how Katie let us know she had a cold . . .

Saturday night, we had some friends over to play games (hallelujah! A social life!). I spent most of the time holding Katie because (for some unfathomable reason) she had been rather clingy all day. When they left our house, Katie started making some gagging noises, so I was patting her back to help. They hadn't even gotten all the way down our stairs (we can hear rather well) when she aimed down my shirt and vomited the entire contents of her digestive system. Every piece of clothing I was wearing (mostly the articles located at the down-my-shirt area) became drenched in a substance that smelled like sour milk and had the consistency of raw egg. I had to shower and put on new underwear. Did I mention that she also got the carpet and Mike's shirt because he was standing too close?

Note: Let me clarify the title of this post. As I am the oldest of seven children, this was NOT my first experience being puked on. Just my first as a mother. That being said, on the rankings of epic being-puked-on, this comes in second. First is still the time Emma Grace puked several plates worth of half-digested spaghetti on my lap. She was, like, three, so she probably doesn't remember. But oh, I do.

Anyhow, we used our highly evolved brains to deduce that the mucous in her throat made her puke (hence the raw egg consistency) and that she wasn't having stomach problems--mostly because as soon as she was done puking she expected me to feed her. Geez, kid.

On another completely unrelated note, Happy (the day after) Valentine's Day! I hope your day was full of chocolate and conversation hearts and less puke than mine. Due to our recent acquiring of a sick baby, we stayed home. But that didn't stop my handsome husband from getting Carraba's to-go and watching Letters to Juliet with me. I think he was just disappointed that I spent most of the movie snuggling the aforementioned sick baby instead of snuggling him. Sorry, handsome.

One final note: Katie also started smiling on purpose this weekend. Guess what she finds funny? That's right, the snot sucker. Especially when I'm using it on her. Weirdo . . .

Blessing day!

We blessed Katie on Sunday, Feb 6, because both our families could be there. Here are some pictures from the weekend.

Can you tell which of us is every photographer's favorite subject?

Something happened on the way to the Macey's . . .

This weekend, while all the family was in town, I got a couple of opportunities to go out on errands or lunch or whatever while Mike or some aunties watched Katie. On one such outing, I was with my mom and my youngest brother, Sam, who's 5. Please note that I sat in the back seat with Sam so he wouldn't be alone.

On the way to the store, we passed the hospital where Katie was born, and I pointed it out to him.

Sam: That's where Katie was born? And you were there?

Me: Yep, I was there.

Sam: And you were giving birth?

Me: . . . yes . . .

Sam: When you're getting the baby out of your stomach, that's giving birth. And only people's wives can give birth.

Me: . . .

Sam: Boys can't do it.

Me: That's right. Only girls can.

Sam: Right. Only people's wives.

Another funny quote that I happen to like, and which I hear rather frequently:

Mike (from Katie's changing table): Whoa! Katie, what have you been eating?!?!?

Hehehe. She's really good at blowing out her diaper when it's daddy's turn. Buaha.

2 wks: More Lessons I Have Learned

#1 - Unless you want to experience projectile poop, get the clean diaper ready before you even open the dirty one. I'm serious. Mike has discovered that she has a range upward of two feet.

#2 - On a similar note, put the burp rag on your shoulder BEFORE you pick up the freshly fed baby. Just trust me on this.

#3 - Katie likes foot rubs, but definitely not ear rubs. Oh no, she does not like ear rubs. And she will tell you.

#4 - I really think my baby is going to be a soprano.

#5 - If you let the bottomless pit eat as much as she thinks she needs to, she will promptly throw it up all over you and the floor and the couch and the husband . . . and then need to start all over again. Pacifiers are a safe and happy invention for the child who is addicted to sucking.

#6 - BREASTFEEDING IS THE BEST DIET EVER!! I have lost thirty pounds since the morning they induced me. That's ten pounds of Katie plus placenta, and the rest is all me! I feel super great! (Now I just need to get rid of that nasty bit of stretchmark-covered extra skin on my belly . . . )

#7 - You have to choose your battles--deal with trying to keep those dag-blasted socks on her hands, or deal with the little scratch marks all over your neck. (Usually I give up and let her scratch me, because it's a wild bet. But sometimes when she's nursing, those little nails get to particularly sensitive places, if you know what I mean . . . yech. That hurts.)

#8 - The nurse wasn't kidding who said that all the new and weird stuff happened as soon as your mom left. I'm serious. I had another freak out. ("I broke my baby! I'm a horrible mother!")

Mike is a very patient man.

#9 - Sometimes showering is definitely optional.

#10 - The way to have a healthy diet is to have the relief society bring you dinner. Seriously--we haven't had such well-balanced meals since . . . ever!

#11 - I really gotta get my baby off of the wake-up-at-eight-and-go-back-to-sleep-at-midnight routine. But until I do, naps are highly recommended. And quite delightful.

#12 - Diaper rash ointment smells like really old people. Which means my baby has started smelling like really old people. No offense to any really old people who may chance upon my blog.

#13 - Newborn-sized clothing doesn't apply to babies who take after their fathers and become ridiculously long-legged in the first week of life. Seriously. The kid's already gained almost two inches.

#14 - Sometimes, in the middle of the night, when your baby starts crying right after you put her down and you're exhausted so it makes you start to cry as well . . . husbands are really great. Especially mine. He just tells me to calm down and then he goes and puts the baby back to sleep. I love you, Mike.

I think that's all for now. I will add more when they appear. Meanwhile, here's a pretty great picture of how cute my baby is. (But probably the last time in the monkey feet . . . see lesson 13 . . . sigh . . .)