Whoa Baby!

An evening walk.

In this picture, she looks like me as an infant, if I do say so myself.

Last week she learned to wave. Now she's throwing signs.

Anali at the Children's Museum of Tacoma, where she attended her first birthday party. Her friend Ava turned two.

New foods this week (We're gettin' a little crazy in the kitchen):
Mushrooms (not mushy enough, so there was no room for them in her diet)
Fresh miniature mozzarella balls (she thought these were toys)
Raspberries (just right, mixed with multi-grain cereal)

Here's what being a mother looked like today:
5:35 Alarm is set for this time, but I don't roll out of bed until 6:03, because I know Brandon is home to watch her today, so I don't have to drive her to south Puyallup. Plus, I don't really need to wash my feet every morning. That'll save me thirty seconds.
6:20 I'm showered, dressed, with dry hair and dry contacts. Anali decided Dad doesn't deserve sleeping in. She's awake.
6:50 Just now nursing Anali, though I hoped to be out the door at 7:00
7:00 Scrambling to pack my lunch, give Brandon instructions ("Feed her two cubes of orange, two cubes of green, and don't feed her the orange squash or the orange carrots; make it the orange yams.")
7:30 Arrive to school half an hour early. Must be early on Mondays, since I didn't plan nearly enough over the weekend and the kids have to learn something. (I was grading an essay this morning, and a kid wrote that I am the "dreaded Joking Johnson" and that I think I'm funny, but I'm not. I'm not paid nearly enough for this!)
8:27 First class starts. Actually, it's about seven different classes in one. It starts, nevertheless.
11:00 This should be lunch, but I'm running circles in my pumps (who calls them "pumps" anymore?) instead of pumping (for Ani's bottle) in the room behind my classroom like I usually do (Anali needs one bottle while I'm at work, and I'm trying to keep her on breastmilk, though pumping at work is becoming less and less feasible) My last class was switched to a portable across campus, so I have to cart my supplies back and forth when I should be eating/pumping. I eat some wretched tuna slop I threw together and five fork-fulls of the wrong kind of yogurt. 12:52 My Junior English class is equipped with a suitable background on the Harlem Renaissance, and I'm on my way to my own classroom to pack up for home
1:25 I'm home, and I want to grab Anali and Brandon and snuggle their necks, but I'm stuck on the phone with a credit card in hand registering for my GRE. March 1st - pray for me. Can you believe you actually have to pay $130 to take a four hour test? What is this world coming to? Shouldn't they be paying me? Note to self: Establish retirement plan. Charge students for every quiz, test, and essay I make them write.
1:27 I actually get to snuggle my family. Anali is dressed in teal pajama pants (Dad thinks these are slacks) and an orange, green, and cream striped shirt (Didn't I just wash all of her laundry to avoid this kind of scene?). Her socks are meant for a five-year-old and they hang past her toes about two inches. He wouldn't be a dad if he didn't dress her this cute/horrible.
2:10 Anali goes down for a nap. She's getting pretty good at this, though for her afternoon nap she has to stand in her crib until she's falls from exhaustion. Whatever works. Those Babywise pseudo-doctors ain't got nothin' on me!
2:35 I finish the last twenty pages of Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead. I really needed to finish that book so I could spend Anali's naptime doing responsible, adult activities such as cleaning the kitchen, studying for the GREs, planning lessons, grading papers, folding laundry, writing a Middle Eastern peace plan.
5:00 Walk with Anali to the infant swing three blocks away. I love this swing. Anali loves this swing. I hold her and all her potential energy and release on the count of three, after counting in English, French, and Spanish (only to three, not as impressive as it sounds, I mix the accents, more pitiful than pedantic). Anali sucks in air with an inward squeal and releases her laughter out her eyes. She loves this swing. I love this swing.
Somewhere after her nap and before her swing I fed her: blueberries and banana, sweet potatoes, and green beans. Weird, but healthy. I'm proud of the baby food her Grammy and I make. Didn't fly with the cloth diapers, so this is my make-up assignment.
6:35 Bath time. We sing this song: "Rub-a-dub, in the tub, we will scrub away, all the dirt, and the grime, from our day of play. In the garden, with the bugs and the grubs. In the kitchen, with the grool and the drool. In the forest, with the dogs and pollywogs. Rub-a-dub, in the tub, we will scrub away, all the dirt, and the grime, from our day of play. In the barnyard, with the cows and the plows. At the seashore, with the snails and the shells. At the playground, with the swings and climbing things. Rub-a-dub, in the tub, we will scrub away, all the dirt, and the grime, from our day of play." Copyright 2006. Rachel E. Johnson.
6:50 Nurse. Sing. Brush teeth. Lay down. Pet her forhead. Sleep.
7:00 Walk in circles trying to figure out what to do with myself. Where do I start? Study some really tough vocabulary. Nefarious - really wicked. Ubiquitous - omnipresent. Quotidian (I like this one. It's fun to say. My sister-in-law thinks this sounds like something I threatened to name my child) - commonplace. And so on.
8:30 Should be in bed. Spending way too much time on a blog post. Love you, Mom (my mom, that's not a closing.)!

This is.

Good night.

Rachel