I found them! And none too soon...

Let's not call my daughter picky. Let's just say she has discriminating tastes, and she knows what she likes.

I'm talking about, of course, her binky. Otherwise known as a Soothie, it is by far the one priceless, irreplaceable item in our house. She has used it since we received it at the hospital (I know, we started making mistakes even BEFORE leaving the hospital).

She's a very vigorous sucker, and she loves her binky. I mean, she LOVES it. Almost as much as she loves her berry wreaths. But Soothies are damn near impossible to find at any store. You can find Nuks, Mams, ad infinitum, but I only found Soothies one place - Target. I bought the two pack, thinking I had finally solved our problem of "Where's the binky. Oh my God, where's that binky?!"

I brought them home only to find they are a thicker consistency than the one she received at the hospital, and therefore worthless in her eyes (and mouth). She spit them out, dissatisfied.

Recently, we had to go back to the hospital where she was born, and I decided to try Avent pacifiers (the third brand I had gone to in an attempt to wean her from the impossible-to-find Soothie). The lady asked if it was the brand I always used. I explained my fruitless search for the Soothies. Her eyes lit up and said, 'we carry them!' I almost jumped over the counter to hug her.

Sadly to say, once I brought them home, I found they were vanilla-scented. Why on earth would you scent a binky? Needless to say, they got spit out like sour milk.

Just when I was done searching, I found what I was looking for at Babies R Us, of all places. At the checkout line, displayed as an impulse item. The package shone like gold (because it's worth it's weight in it, for sure). I snatched the two-pack and plopped it on the counter.

Ha. Take that hospital. You thought you could torture me by giving my child one, count 'em, one binky on which you hooked her from birth. But I circumvented the system. Ha! Raspberries to you!

Now where are those damn binkys?

A swaddle that works!!

I think the reason my little one is now getting so much sleep at night is because of the swaddle.

Swaddling is a fine art - one we were never able to properly master. That's why we cheat and have a pre-made swaddle. For those uninitiated in swaddling, it's basically the act of wrapping your child up like a burrito. In fact, it's exactly like making a burrito. You pull one side of the blanket over them, pull up the bottom and wrap the otherside. Voila - baby burrito.

Our problem in the beginning is that we were too gentle with our little burrito. We didn't want to make the swaddle too tight. Even though every time the nurses in the hospital brought her back to us after a night in the nursery she was wrapped so tight her eyes were popping out (not really, but it was pretty tight).

Soon we learned, a loose swaddle is no swaddle at all. We started trying to get it as tight as we could, but we were no match for our daughter. We dubbed her Houdini (she has lots of nicknames, as you can tell) for her amazing ability to break any swaddle in less than a minute.

We would be so proud after getting her wrapped up in her burrito, only to see that defiant fist pop out 45 seconds later. Once the first fist was out, it was all over. Within 30 more seconds she was laying with the blanket spread around her, legs kicking in the air triumphantly.

Hence the cheater swaddle. At Babies R Us (you can get ANYTHING at Babies R Us) they sell predone swaddles that use velcro to bind them up, for lack of a better description. She can't break it. Well, either that or she doesn't want to. It's probably more of the latter. But she actually seems to like it now. And the swaddle is green, so she looks like a little pea pod with a baby head on top. No more Houdini!

Good times, good times

My little one isn't always a challenge. There are some moments that take me by surprise and make me belly laugh. And there are times that are so touching they make me cry.

For example, she is in love with a pair of red fake berry wreaths. I'm not kidding, she worships them. They hang on a pair of black cast iron sconces that adorn the white wall in our living room. I don't know if it's the combination of black, white and red or what, but whenever her eye catches them, she smiles. She not only smiles, her entire face lights up because they bring her so much joy.

She has the same reaction to her mobile, the aforementioned four bears and apparent monkey in their bathrobes. She adores it. Each morning when she wakes up, we say good morning to her hanging buddies and turn on the lullaby it plays. She spends the next few minutes grinning and kicking her pajama'd feet at it.

It's enough to warm your heart - although I have to say I'm a bit jealous that inanimate objects receive infinitely more adoration than her mommy. But I get my reward when someone else feeds her and her eyes are trained on me the entire time. When I leave the room, she watches me go. When I reenter, she keeps me in her sights.

Another great moment is when I blow raspberries at her. Every time, regardless of how many times I've done it, she widens her eyes and throws her hands up as if to say 'what the heck was that?' Now she's trying to blow raspberries herself. She sticks out her tongue, but she doesn't quite have the whole blowing out thing down yet.

Oh, and the funniest thing? Call me immature, it's when she burps and toots. Sometimes she has the best comedic timing, and we just devolve into laughter. She doesn't know what she's doing, but sometimes her adult-sized burps are just the thing we needed to keep us in good spirits.

Who are you and what have you done with my child?

Every time I start to get used to what's happening, my little one changes the game. It's as if she starts to get bored with the same old, same old. Which I don't know how that's possible because everything is new to her. Trees are new. She's never seen a squirrel before. You get the picture.

But she likes to keep us on our toes. In this instance, though, I'll take it. She has slept through the night twice in a row now. And I'm not talking typical infant sleeping through the night, defined as 5 to 6 hours. I'm talking 9 hours. And she's not sick - or she may be, because she's actually happy. She's been smiling and cooing all morning.

So I decided to take advantage of the opportunity and give her a full-blown tub bath. Chalk this up to bad parenting - it's only her second in her life. Yeah, she's 9 weeks old. We've been giving her sponge baths, but as first-time parents we're pretty much scared to death to give her a tub bath.

We tried it a week or two ago to disasterous results. So I wasn't expecting miracles this morning. Of course, that's exactly what I got (see how she keeps me on my toes?) She smiled in the tub and kicked her long legs in the water, enjoying every minute of it. Whaa?

In this case, I'll take it. And now, joy of all joys, she's taking a nap. Which means it's time for mamma to take a shower!

Now where is that damn halo?

My little angel must have misplaced her halo this weekend. Good Lord she had a rough weekend! She always starts off on a good note, though, I have to say. I always approach the day thinking positive after she smiles and coos at her mobile of four dancing teddy bears in bathrobes and one animal we can only figure is a monkey (why? I don't understand, 4 teddy bears and a monkey?).

But this weekend she tricked me into thinking we were going to have good days. Shortly after the cooing and smiling came the screaming and the kicking. And then more screaming. She had many good moments, don't get me wrong. As if she popped the halo out of her back pocket and said 'let me get this adjusted and I'll be all set.' But then suddenly the halo would disappear and the horns would pop out again.

The poor thing, I say this as if it's her fault. As if she WANTS to cry so much. I'm sure if she had her choice, she would calmly tell us what the problem was and instill her faith in us to fix it. Why aren't children born with the power to speak? It would make things so much easier.

Ah well. We'll keep waking up each the morning, hoping for the best as she smiles at her mobile.