The Bashful Show-Off

NJ's grandparents' visit was a success, by most standards. Much like her trip to Texas, she started off all bashful and shy with my folks, but being on her home turf apparently made a big difference, because she warmed to them quickly (if not totally).

My mother got a lot of attention -- particularly when she broke out the cookie dough for a baking session after we told her NJ often holds the TV remote to her ear like it's a phone and says "Grandma? Cookie?" She was more coy with my dad, but thankfully stopped calling him "Grandma" in favor of "Dad-dad," his now-official grandparenting moniker. She was still extremely shy with him, but she always made darn sure he was paying attention to her, no matter whether she was in her crib or high chair or on the sofa or running around the living room. He got lots of smiles and giggles, and when he carried her to the table for dinner their last night here, it looked like they were BFFs.

Daddy told me the raw cookie dough is better than the finished product. And, sorry ladies, but he's right!

We (and by "we," I mean "The Wife") were worried that NJ wouldn't play nice with her grandparents when her parents went off to enjoy the song stylings of a little musical combo from Ireland. We got her up unusually early that morning, cut her nap short and took her to the zoo in the afternoon, hoping she'd be worn out by early evening and we could get her in bed early before heading off to the concert. It worked, at least as far as we know; my mom and dad insisted they didn't have to check on her once all night. Flying two babysitters in from more than 2,000 miles away to see a show for which we held tickets for as long as we've had the kid -- it all worked out in the end.

Your mom loves you more, NJ, but she's loved Bono longer.

Yesterday I took my parents to the airport VERY EARLY so they could fly back to Tejas. NJ asked about them when she woke up, later, and again both when The Wife picked her up from day care and when they arrived home in the evening. And they came up again this morning in our breakfast semi-conversation. She's got Grandma and Dad-dad on her mind, which is good. She's got great taste.

Freedom Has A Scent, Like The Top Of A Newborn Baby's Head

I was a little surprised a few weeks ago when The Wife declared she was going to recruit my parents to babysit NJ. We had plans to attend a rock and roll show next month, put on by a little combo out of Ireland who call themselves U2. Not that the grandparents aren't willing to babysit, mind you, but they agreed to travel from Houston to Seattle to do it. So she called them, spoke on the phone for about 15 minutes in the kitchen, and came out declaring that they'd be here for a week. I thought it was a pretty spectacular feat at the time, but quickly realized that the folks will jump at any chance to see their granddaughter. They positively adore NJ and they haven't seen her since Christmas -- and, of course, she's a completely different person now.

Of course, U2 isn't coming since Bono had to have emergency back surgery. (You know you're getting old when a concert is postponed not because the star got busted for public intoxication or punching a cop, but because he threw out his back.) My parents are still coming, though, and that's great. My mother even offered to come back again whenever the show's rescheduled (that'll be in 2011, apparently). She laughed when I said that by then, NJ will be old enough to go with us -- after all, for months she fell asleep to the sweet lullaby sounds of the band -- but Mom sounded a little nervous so I assured her I was joking.

So: No U2, but babysitters. Of course, we can always pop a U2 DVD in the machine. I'm sure Mom and Dad will love that.

Change for a Fiver

NJ hit the five-month mark on Friday, and she and I hit our (approximate) one-month mark as a daughter-homedaddy duo. The biggest thing I've noticed in the past month is the incredible ramping up of her personality. She's all smiles lately, and is very interested in whatever's going on. Mostly, though, she's 'talking' all the time. Up until recently she would jabber randomly and occasionally. Now she's jibbering constantly, and at us. Directly at us. She has things to say, orders to give, pleas to make, points to emphasize. It's fun watching her figure out how to use her mouth and vocalize; the tongue makes regular appearances now, and The Wife was delighted when NJ blew her first true raspberry a couple of days ago.

We're also getting solid food into the mix, and NJ is digging that, too. I was a little nervous about it because we had a tiny bit of trouble getting her to eat from a bottle. She loved her milk-and-rice-cereal concoction, though -- leaning forward toward the spoon, opening wide, and eating more of it than she didn't eat. And there was your standard-issue adorable baby-food-on-the-chin mess, of course. I was thrilled to be able to break out the ridiculously cool Rolling Stones bib, too. A friend commented that it's probably the same one Mick and Keith are using these days.

Tonight The Wife and I are going out to dinner. We've done it once before, when my parents were in town, when we sat down to eat at 5 (two margaritas each AND dessert!) and were home by 6:30. Tonight will be an early-bird special, too. We're dropping her off with a couple who has a son who's two weeks older than NJ, and will be returning the babysitting favor this coming weekend. The Wife has been nervous about leaving NJ with others, parents or friends or whoever, but our first outing went off without a hitch and that put her at ease, so hopefully there won't be any hiccups tonight.