Ink and the first days

I missed a few pictures in our earlier posts --- from the tattoo parlor:

Berit slept at Shadow Masters while daddy got his new tattoo.

Fortunately my foot is too big for Pete's forearm

Berit has her sunglasses so we could take her on a tropical
vacation if we could stomach the plane ride.

Momma and Berit

Daddy and Berit on the first day of "school"
(Lots of tears by momma and the Bear.)

Berit fast asleep in the early morning hours

 

Berit is great about letting momma shower and get ready

Visiting momma for lunch on her first day of work
(This time Pete was responsible for the matching outfits!)

We are working on a schedule to make working, sleeping and nursing a sustainable, pleasant experience.  It would be considerably easier if Berit could drive herself down for lunch, but if that were the case she would presumably be weaned.  And going to sleep at 8 pm may be the new norm for a while.  

Last Days of Leave

Most of my maternity leave was spent learning how to cope and console a colicky baby.  The month of October is a blur completely.  It felt like it would never end at the time but now it seems like it didn't happen at all.  

November was the month of improvements; smiles and coos, more peaceful evenings and the tentative "is she better?" exchanged between us.  I started to venture out more; attending my board meetings and joining friends for lunch.  It wasn't exactly the idyllic maternity leave I had imagined and I wasn't at all the "superstar new mom" taking baby everywhere without a second thought.  No, this took a lot of planning and gumption to get out of the house.  I held my breath a lot.  I sang (horribly, mind you) Bob Dylan at the top of my lungs to persuade my daughter that I was in the car, with her, and in it for the long haul.  We would get through this together.  We would.  Even if it only meant getting to the grocery store.  

But December was when the switch seemed to flip.  I could read her (usually) and she trusted me enough to pause in her shrieks when I told her it would be okay.  And then time really flew.  It is amazing to me that we are expected to return to the workforce when our offspring is still so helplessly dependent and when we are only just beginning to learn how to live with one another, yet, we must and I have.  Those 15 days of December will be cherished. With Pete home and the Bear happy, it seemed like I had finally gotten the motherhood I was expecting.

After getting the Christmas tree, Dehlia set to work decorating the kid.

Only slightly less embarrassing than matching pink dresses....Meemaw is responsible

Berit models her kimono top by Anna

One happy kid!  What a long, strange trip its been...

Going for the tree!

The custom is to cut down your own tree.  Dehlia has been doing this since she was eight.  Pete grew up with the same tradition.  Stealing trees is optional, but usually unnecessary.  Berit got a pass this year since it was 10 below with the windchill, but next year the important task of tree selection will be hers.  It will save momma and daddy from some persistent disagreements about the strategy behind tree cutting.  Even Dehlia must admit that this year's tree takes the cake for ugliness.  It is only two-dimensional and is molting.

Lingo takes the seat closest  to the Bear as usual

Sometimes he can't get close enough to her...acting as a canine airbag across her legs!

It takes four dogs to find a good tree and to provide security from attack squirrels

First we had to check on the cabin: the ski trails are going to be amazing!

Meanwhile, Berit passed out on Grandma.

The tree hunters

Found!  The ugliest Charlie Brown tree ever.

Eating can be so much work!

Our Happy BKSJ

Berit in her Puerto Rico Riot Baby tee (the first baby item we bought) and VW shoes (from Auntie BreBre) getting ready to go to the tattoo parlor on a snowy December day

Berit saying goodbye to daddy before he goes to work

Growing into the Bumbo chair

Big blue eyes to steal your heart with

Not sure, but I think she may be ripping it here...she has quite the sense of humor

Awww winter!

I am sorry to post repeated happenings all at once, but I have yet to get into a routine of blogging and picture posting.  It will happen eventually!  
Berit has been growing happily and has a few fat rolls at her ankles, thighs and even dimples on her knees.  This is good news since the mercury is dropping and the fur kids still need their two walks a day.  We are hoping to get her out skiing by early 2011, if we can find short enough skis...

The bear all stuffed and ready for her morning walk...


Yes, that baby fits in there!

She tends to fall asleep a block into the walk...
           
         Sporting her aviatrix hat while doing her leg kicks...

The Germans are less interested in her these days.  They no longer come running when she yells, unless it is a genuine cry of fear or pain.  (They respond to me the same way!) And we seem to have gotten into a comfortable new existence, with only occasional surprises.

Hanging out...

A cold-nose sniff from her dog Yukon.

"What the hell was that..."

Berit the Stand-In Turkey

As often happens in the big Northwoods, the weather forecast hijacked our plans.  The Seim/White family had been developing a regular tradition of Doug's prime rib, plenty of wine and absurd games of Scrabble at my house in Duluth.  This year we got Woody and Rachael and that was it.  Not willing to let our "new" craigslist-100-year-old-steal-of-an-oak-table go unused, we made a formal go of it.  More than once I reminded my baby-daddy and my little brother that while we appeared to be embracing the traditional roles of womenfolk in the kitchen preparing hot food while baby bouncing and the menfolk lounging on the couch watching football with a brief excursion to shovel and blow falling snow, this is not the new norm. 

The kitchen queens, goggles required for the onions, as always.

Yukon stands guard at the kitchen door, just in case.

The table is set but...

...without a turkey, we improvise!  

Berit gives momma a sideways look: yes, honey, this is a normal Thanksgiving custom. 

Uncle Woody gets in some quiet little bear time...

After the big meal we all recline in the living room, uneaten baby included.