Vivi: Forty-Two and Forty-Three Weeks

Vivi is plotting her escape from this house.  I just know she is.  Why else would she be spending so much time trying to bypass every closed door and baby gate we put in her path?  Why else would she suddenly find every cord and electrical outlet so fascinating?  She must be wiring some fancy device to contact the outside world.  And she's creeping from chair, to table, to ottoman in a suspicious way. It's all very Mission Impossible...

On the other hand, holy separation anxiety!  I've read that it's normal for babies to feel extra anxious about being separated from their parents when they learn to crawl, and for Vivi, this is definitely the case.  She crawls away, but if I don't come chasing after her, she either peeks back to check if I'm still there, or she starts crying.  If I'm the one to leave, she loses her mind.  

Sleep has been awful the past week or so.  One, she's teething.  But the bigger problem is that she won't let me leave.  She wakes up in the middle of the night screaming.  As soon as I pick her up, she falls asleep on me.  The second I put her down, epic baby tears.  Eric isn't allowed to rock her in my place.  Vivi won't stand for it. We repeat this cycle every nap time and every time she wakes up during the night.   Madeline has to share a room with all this nonsense going on too... Poor girl.  

She's never been what I'd call a friendly baby.  Madeline was a people pleaser.  Smiles for everyone!  Vivi gives old ladies the stink eye.  She's all, "You don't know me, lady. Step back before you embarrass yourself."  

Don't get me wrong, she's very sweet, but she's also very shy.  And she refuses to be a performing flea.  She mostly eyes everyone suspiciously before turning to me and whimpering softly.  Silly baby.  

Meanwhile, I've been introducing finger foods now that some teeth are on their way and her tummy troubles are under control (knock on wood).  She loves it!  She won't accept the spoonfuls of purés I try to wedge in her mouth, but a chunk of banana is just fine by her.  

And the best news? Picture that scene from Scarface where he's sitting at his desk with a giant pile of cocaine in front of him.  Now replace Pacino with me and the blow with baby formula.  (Thanks for the visual, Em!) Her Nutramigen is now being covered by insurance.  Ah-maze-ING!  

I can't believe she'll be ten months old next week.  How can this be?!  She was JUST BORN!