Time to Eat

My arm hurts. I think it might be bruised.

I was exhausted yesterday. Went to bed at ten thirty. At midnight, Penny woke to eat. She's been eating for longer than her typical five to ten minutes lately. I was up for twenty minutes feeding her. I felt like I was going to fall off the rocking chair the whole time, I was so tired.

I went back to sleep and had this dream where Ella was whining at me about something (I can't escape the whining even when I'm asleep.) Then, I felt a repeated pain in my arm and realized I was not dreaming. Sean was hitting my arm to let me know Ella was crying for me. It was one in the morning. She wanted to try to use the potty. She tried while I fumbled around the house trying to find a diaper that wasn't in the baby's room. No luck on either effort. She went back to bed, miraculously in her own room.

At four, I was awoken again by Penny for her second twenty minute feeding of the night. Again, I could barely stay on the rocking chair. Ella woke at six thirty this morning. Not a lot of sleep for me. I'm pretty sure my brain didn't bother turning on this morning in protest.

I've been noticing Penny has been wanting to eat more often and for longer periods of time. I've been trying to hold off on the solids because I read this article and she really doesn't seem that interested in food. But, after last night's antics, I realized I am not getting enough sleep. I learned, after having terrible sleep issues for the first nine months of Samantha's life, if I'm not sleeping well, something needs to change. For everyone's sake.

Penny's been eating like that for a couple weeks. She's telling me she's hungry. So, today she got baby oatmeal for the first time. Hopefully, we'll all sleep better tonight.

First taste of food. Not really sure about this.

I'm pretty sure some of it when in her mouth, and not just on her bib.

Packin' Away the Pack-n-Play

Penny, my baby, is growing fast. She's already four months old. Although four months may not seem very old, we've already passed a few major milestones. First smile, check, first laugh, check, rolling, check (both ways as of today). She's awake during the day for long stretches and sleeps at night 12 hours, eating only once during that time. She's social and engaging, talking as much as her sisters (God, help me). She likes to play with toys and watch her sisters play. She's not interested in food, but insists on being held when we eat, so she can interact with everyone and watch the action. Her emerging first teeth are evident as little swellings on her gums. She's getting close to being able to sit by herself. She's left the newborn stage behind and is firmly in infanthood.

These first four months with three little girls has flown by. I've been excited by all of Penny's firsts, and captured pictures of them (okay, maybe not the exact first time, but close). Since Penny is my last baby, all of these firsts are the last firsts I'll ever have. But the thing that is really getting to me, the thing that makes me wistful and a little sad, is putting away the baby gear.

A few weeks ago, we transitioned her from our room in the Pack-n-Play bassinet to her own room with her own crib. We packed up the Pack-n-Play, wrapped it in plastic bags, and tucked it away in a relatively unaccessible spot in the garage. We still need it when we travel, which isn't often, but, for the most part, that piece of baby gear is no longer useful. All three of our girls slept in it for the first ten weeks of their lives, safe and secure close to us. Now, it sits collecting dust in the garage.

I know there are many more items not too far away from the same fate. The baby tub, the aquarium bouncy seat with its bubbling, kissing fish, even the baby Bjorn, that I have schlepped all the girls around in, will soon be packed away forever, to be given to charity if they're not too ratty. And it makes me a little sad (not sad enough to try for #4, but sad nonetheless).

Today, we had a changing of the guards of sorts. I pulled out the highchair and exersaucer from the garage and cleaned them up. My little Penny will be using those as soon as the covers are finished drying. Looking around, straining to move on her own, trying to keep up with her sisters, she's hurrying to grow up already. And I'll help her, that's my job, but it still makes me sad to watch her leave one stage of her life behind.

Me First

This morning at the breakfast table, Ella noticed Penny's bouncy seat had turned off. It has a fish mobile on it that plays music and the two fish inside blow bubbles and kiss each other. Penny likes to watch it and I frequently put her in it when I'm trying to take care of the other two.

"More, Mommy," Ella said.

"More what, Ella? More juice?"

"Nope."

"More toast?"

"Nope."

"More what?"

"More fish."

"More fish? You can't have goldfish for breakfast, Ella."

"No, more baby fish."

"Baby fish? What are you talking about?"

Samantha figured out the interpretation first, and quickly jumped off her chair. Ella started to get down, too, but Sammy was faster and closer. She turned on the bouncy seat fish mobile.

"I got it, Mommy," she said proudly, climbing back on her chair before Ella managed to get off hers.

This promptly started screaming from Ella, "NO! ME! ME DO!"

She ran over to the bouncy seat and turned it off, which started Penny, who had indeed wanted to see more fish blowing bubbles, whining and fussing.

Ella put her hands on her hips and squared off to Sammy.

"Me do, Sammy," she said. "Me do."

Ella then turned back on the fish mobile.

"Me do first, Sammy," she said.

"No you didn't. I did it first. You did it second," corrected Samantha.

"No, me first," insisted Ella.

"No, me first," said Samantha.

This continued for five, yes five whole minutes before I thought to distract them with the Sea Monkeys. I was not on top of my game this morning.

Adventures in La Quinta

Last week, the girls and I took a little vacation to my parents house. Once we arrived, we had a fantastic time. The girls behaved themselves and, due to days of extreme excitement leading to extreme exhaustion, all slept through the night in their own beds. We had many adventures in La Quinta, but I believe the girls' two favorites were The Children's Museum of the Desert and the swimming pool.

We went to the children's museum on Friday morning. It really is a fantastic place for kids to explore. Upon entering, there are floor to ceiling windows on two sides of the wall, letting in bright, natural light. There were exhibits all over the place.



The girls were buckled into seats attached to pulleys that we grown-ups pulled to raise them off the ground.









They dressed up as archeologists and excavated some rubber things.

There was a veterinary clinic where the girls examined stuffed animals in lab coats. They had some really good information about choosing a pet and the pet overpopulation problem posted in the area.










There was an attic designed area upstairs full of dress up clothes. (Samantha was in heaven.)

And, there was an art area with an actual VW bug to paint. The girls had a great time smearing paint on it (and yes, the paint does come off clothes). The employee stationed at the car, Carmine (get it, car mine, he'll tell you if you don't) was an Italian grandpa like man. He handed out paint cans and sang "That's Amore" quietly under his breath while going about cleaning and supervising. He has quite a sense of humor, although some of his jokes don't go over so well, he told me. Ella was especially thrilled with the car painting. She kept asking (and continues to ask), "Paint car?", any time an art project or trip is mentioned.

On Saturday, after playing at a local playground and a picnic, we all headed over to the pool in my parent's community.

Grandma and Grandpa took Samantha and Ella in the water, while Penny and I lounged in a cabana. (Note to self, get cabana).

We plan to go back again in the future (although we may have to wait for the grandparents to recover).

*** Extra bonus points to my parents for entertaining the two older girls and feeding them breakfast in the morning so I could sleep until eight! (Yes, eight! I can hardly believe it myself). As well as for helping Ella steer the little motorized Barbie car they have around their courtyard, again, and again, and again (and letting her ram into their legs with it, too).

A Tale of Two Car Trips

"Life is a journey, not a destination."

--Ralph Waldo Emerson

Mr. Emerson clearly did not travel with three small children. The girls and I headed down to La Quinta to my parent's for a little vacation last week, a good time was had by all (more on that later), once we got there.

I have learned in the almost four years of parenting I have under my belt, to plan my travels around sleep schedules. Things go more smoothly if I have sleeping children at least part of the time. And so, I chose to leave for my parent's home after Samantha finished school at one o'clock. That way, she and Ella would have just finished lunch, and it would be time for both Ella and Penny to take their afternoon naps. Samantha should be fine for the two and half hour car ride, as long as I made sure she used the potty before we left school. So, that's what we did.

We left the parking lot of Samantha's school at one twenty. Penny began crying immediately, because she hates the car unless we're going fifty-five miles an hour. I headed toward the freeway, stopping at the gas station right before the on ramp at one twenty-five. I pulled up to the only open pump, got out, and tried my credit card. There was a glare from the sun on the screen, I heard beeping, but couldn't see anything. I pushed the clear button and swiped my card again. Shading the screen with my hand, I still couldn't see anything on the display. I then realized the beeping was from the adjacent pump and my pump wasn't working.

I was a little annoyed, anxious to get on the freeway with the screaming baby, but I calmed myself down. No problem, I got back in the car and waited for the white van in front of me to finish. And I waited, and waited. Getting more annoyed, I realized the driver was inside the gas station. Then I looked around and noticed every pump was filled with white vans, and all the drivers were in matching grey pants and navy blue shirts. Fantastic, a fleet of some kind was filling up. They were strolling in and out of the gas station, chatting with each other, and overall dilly dallying.

Penny was screaming by this time, so I started the car and headed across the street to another gas station, apologizing to the girls for the wait and trying to hush Penny. I pulled up to the pump, got out, and then noticed this station didn't take credit cards. (Seriously? Who doesn't take credit cards?) Back in the car and back over to wait for the fleet to finish. Finally, after twenty minutes (yes, twenty) I managed to get gas. We got on the freeway at one forty-five.

Penny was in a state, screaming her head off. Soon, I assured her, soon we would hit that magic fifty-five miles per hour. I pulled onto the 105 freeway. Traffic. Going thirty miles an hour. Not fast enough for Penny. I pulled into the car pool lane, we were able to go fifty, still not fast enough. The traffic slowed to a stop as we exited to the 605. Crap, crap, crap. Screaming baby, whining Samantha, at least Ella was asleep. We finally, made it to the 60.

Still traffic, still screaming baby. Samantha started in with the "are we there yet?" every two minutes. When I repeatedly said no, she continued with the "are we almost there yet?"

Still crawling along in traffic, despite being in the carpool lane, Samantha said, "I have to go potty."

You have got to be kidding me. I was not familiar with the area. I looked to the right, we were just coming up to an exit. I was in the carpool lane, no chance to make that one. I exited and pulled over four lanes of traffic, getting off at the next exit. I noticed we just passed a strip mall. Perfect, we'll pull into the strip mall. Ella is still asleep, Penny is still screaming. We'll just pull into the parking lot, I have a portable potty in the car for just such occasions. I can feed Penny, since we've now been on the road an hour and a half, then get right back on the freeway with Ella still sleeping.

Of course, I pulled off one of those exits where the strip mall was not accessible and into a residential area that lasted a few blocks, before entering an area of heavy construction. I saw some shopping center areas up ahead. The first has no parking. I decided to get to one across the street so I could easily get back on the freeway. Bad choice. I got stuck in even worse traffic, I had to make a U-turn to enter the parking lot, and then had to wait through three traffic lights, not moving, just slightly too far to enter the driveway. All the while, Samantha was wiggling in her seat, "I have to go potty! I have to go potty!" Penny was still screaming. Finally, it became clear we weren't going to move the four feet, so I took the SUV a little off road on the sidewalk into the parking lot.

I found a nice secluded spot, situated the portable potty in the passenger seat, and got Samantha in position. Penny was still screaming.

"I don't have to go potty," said Samantha.

No kidding. No potty. I did feed Penny, Ella did wake up, crying. A full thirty minutes after we exited the freeway, we were back on. Still in traffic. Penny screaming, Ella crying, Samantha asking if we were close yet. It was now three o'clock. I estimated we had another two hours of driving. I considered turning around, but didn't. There was traffic the other way too.

After another twenty minutes, the traffic let up and we had an uneventful, yet loud, two hour drive. We arrived at five o'clock, after spending ten minutes with the security guard getting through the gates. (Did he really think I was up to no good? Really? If I were going to do something illicit, did he really think I would bring along three screaming kids? Just give me the freakin' pass already, I'm on the list.) We pulled up to my parent's house, exhausted and ready for bed (Oh, wait, that was just me. The kids were well rested and ready to tear up my parent's house).

The return trip went much more smoothly. I loaded everyone up at bedtime. By the time we hit the freeway, less than twenty minutes later, they were all asleep. I turned on some classic rock, popped open a Diet Coke, and enjoyed the silent drive.

Baby Monitor Troubles

The last four nights, my baby monitor has not been working properly. When Samantha was a baby, I was so worried she would need me, I found I actually had to turn the monitor off. Any time she rolled or squirmed, the monitor would click, and I would sit straight up in bed, listening for her cries. Not very conducive to getting any sleep. Once I turned it off, I was able to sleep through her small noises, but woke when she cried. When Ella was a baby, I was less nervous about everything and found I could keep the monitor off. I easily woke when she cried, but still managed to get a good night's sleep.

Now that I'm on baby number three, I'm very laid back, and tired. I do not wake up without the monitor. Penny is now only getting up once a night (not bad for a three month old), but I will sleep right through it without the monitor.

The first malfunction of the monitor was me forgetting to turn it on. I woke up in the morning, and thought Penny had slept the whole night, only to realize I hand't turned on the monitor. Poor Penny! She probably woke hungry and cried and cried and I was too comatose to hear her.

The next night, I made sure to turn the monitor on. I double checked the little green light was on. I awoke the next morning, and again, realized Penny had not fed the entire night! I felt so much better about the night before. She really was sleeping through the whole night. Then I checked the monitor, the little green light was not on, the batteries had died overnight. Oh, no! I thought. Poor Penny! Crying and hungry two nights in a row. My poor neglected baby!

Sean changed the batteries for me the next night and I made sure that green light was on. At three thirty I was woken by Ella coming into our room. As I groggily reached down to pull her into our bed, I realized Penny was screaming, very unlike her to make that much noise. I looked at the monitor, the green light was off! Crap, the stupid thing must be broken, I thought. I'll have to go get a new one in the morning. Off I went to feed Penny. I told Sean about it in the morning, and he said he had put in rechargeable batteries, and they were probably old. So he put in brand new batteries yesterday for me.

This morning, I was again woken by Ella climbing into our bed and again heard Penny screaming. I looked at the monitor, the green light was on. What was going on? The volume was turned off. Sigh. Off to feed Penny, after turning the volume back up. We'll see if I can get it working correctly tonight, or if Penny is going to suffer through another night of crying out in hunger to no response.

**Note: The girls and I are going to Grandma's for little vacation later today, so I won't be writing for a few days. (Not sure if the vacation is for us or for Daddy.)

The Great Bottle Hunt of 2010

I am on a mission to get Penny to take a bottle. I have decided that as much as I enjoy breastfeeding, it might be nice to get out of the house for more than an hour without the baby in tow in the next year. Not that Sean and I really go anywhere, or have regular babysitters, but just in case.

When Samantha refused the bottle at ten weeks old, despite Sean giving her a bottle every day, I went on a mini bottle hunt. I had the Advent already and I tried a couple of different nipples, but we didn't try that hard. I figured when I went back to work when she was six months old, she would get over it and take milk from a sippy cup instead of starving.

I was wrong. She starved when I worked two days a week, drinking two or less ounces of milk the whole day. I fretted at work, worrying she wasn't getting adequate nutrition and was at home hungry and crying with Daddy, or worse, with a grandparent. I left as soon as I could. When I got home, she went on an eating binge all night long.

When Ella came around we really didn't try very hard when she refused the bottle. That's just what our babies do, I figured, and I was home mostly, so it wasn't that big of a deal. I had been-there-done-that with Samantha. She also went on milk fast when I worked, refusing even a drop of milk. She wouldn't even take it mixed into her rice cereal or other food like Samantha had. When it came time to wean her onto cow's milk she, unlike Samantha, refused that too. She also refused soy milk, goat's milk, and rice milk, even a no go on the chocolate varieties. She still won't take any form of milk, although she does love cheese and yogurt, so she gets a calcium supplement.

Well, now Penny won't take a bottle. I was going to ignore it, but I think I'll give it a try. I would really like her to drink cow's milk at one. I bought a bottle warmer today. I always thought part of Ella's problem was I couldn't get the milk the right temperature. I also bought a bottle that has a harder nipple within a softer nipple that's supposed to mimic breastfeeding better than other kinds of nipples.

A trial run today was a no-go, but the milk was at least the right temperature and she played with the nipple for ten minutes before giving up, so I'm encouraged. Maybe if Sean gives her the bottle she'll go for it. If not, I'm going to try a bunch of different bottles and see if she takes one.

Who knows, maybe we'll actually be able to go out on a date sometime, maybe even at night.

Photo via Flickr: The soft landing's photostream

A Glimpse into the Future

It's always fun to speculate about what the girls are going to become as adults based on their strengths and interests. Their blank slates right now, open to any possibility. Maybe they'll be doctors, lawyers, artists, writers, actresses, engineers. Only time will tell where their interests lie. In the meantime, I like to imagine. They're still pretty young, so it can be hard to tell what their strengths are at this point.

Penny is definitely a good eater, perhaps she will enter hot dog eating contests when she's older. She also "talks" quite a bit, maybe she'll be a news anchor.

Samantha is starting to show some real strengths and interests. She appears to be somewhat artistic (great, another Sean gene passed on). She is starting to be able to draw realistic pictures of people and she drew a really good fish the other day (almost better than what I can do). She also is choosy about the colors she uses and seems to have an eye for style. She chooses her own outfits every day, with definite ideas of what goes together. In October, a round piece of felt fell off one of my Halloween decorations. I was looking for it to throw away, and she had taken it and placed it under another decoration. It made the other decoration stand out more and worked really nicely. I kept the felt for next year. I'm feeling she may pursue more artistic tracks than Sean or I. Maybe she'll be an artist, a stylist, or an interior designer.

Ella is also pretty young, but we're starting to see some interests. She is a physical girl, liking to be outside and play games. She loves to dance. Her real skill appears to be in electronics. She can change the picture on my phone more quickly than I can, and has almost sent some text messages. She pulls apart our remote controls, and can get the batteries back in. She also manages to get my computer to do some amazing things if I forget to close it, leaving the keyboard exposed.

Yesterday, however, I caught a glimpse into her future. We were at the drive-thru for Del Taco and the employees inside kept calling out order numbers for the diners inside to pick up their food. From the back, after each number, we heard, "Yeah". She said it like a fifty year old diner waitress with a raspy voice from smoking.

"Seventy-three."

"Yeah."

"Seventy-six."

"Yeah."

It appears, with all my hopes for their futures, Ella has a strong inclination to becoming a fast food employee. Hopefully, it will just be in college to help pay for her education.

The Family Bed

We are having sleep issues...again. Penelope is not going to bed until eleven o'clock, still waking two to three times a night, Ella is waking in the middle of the night often, and Samantha is having some night accidents. This is leading to us having anywhere from one to three children in the bed at any given time, plus one cat.

When Samantha was born, I had no intention of having children sleep with us. Everything I read said the bed is not a safe place for babies to sleep, but after six months of getting out of bed every one to two hours and trekking across the cold, hardwood floor, I reached my limit of sleep deprivation and Samantha came into our bed.

When it first started, I thought how nice it was to have our baby cuddled up with us, feeling safe and secure, not fighting bedtime, but rather eagerly laying down next to me to sleep a whole night.

Once I regained my mental capacities after recovering from the sleep deprivation, I realized this was not a good idea. She became dependent on one of us being in the bed to sleep, she slept horizontally in the bed, kicking me all night long, so I still wasn't sleeping well. Although we tried to break the habit, the precedent was set, and she continued to share our bed, sometimes just one night at a time, sometimes for weeks at a time.

When Ella came around, I decided I wasn't going to be able to handle the extreme sleeplessness Samantha had brought, so Ella began sleeping in our bed at two weeks old. Since even those that advocate co-sleeping believe it unsafe to have an infant and another child in the same bed, Samantha was booted out. She still needed to sleep with someone, so that meant Sean and she became frequent couch sleepers, much to Sean's back and neck's dismay.

Eventually, we got them both sleeping in their own room for the most part, and then in the same room together for the whole night, with only occasional nighttime visitors.

Now that Penelope is here, we are back to an increase in visitors. Ella is waking, quite possibly a reaction to not being the baby anymore. Instead of bringing her back to her own bed, risking her screaming waking Samantha in their now shared room, I just let her sleep with us, horizontally, kicking me all night long. Samantha also has been waking with more frequency from bed wetting (she's not quite one hundred percent nighttime potty trained). Again, in the middle of the night, instead of waking Ella (if she's still sleeping), or bothering with the trundle bed where the sheets are stored that doesn't move quite right, into our bed she goes. Penelope does not always want to go back to sleep in her bassinet after her two a.m. feeding, so I sleep sitting up with her on the Boppy pillow.

On the nights where everyone wakes the queen size bed situation is this: Sean asleep on one side with Samantha laying on top of him or next to him, his stupid, gigantic body pillow, comfortably tucked in next to them, Ella, horizontally next to them, Tut, burrowed under the covers next to her,Penelope asleep on the Boppy, and me, sitting up, one butt cheek off the bed, steadying myself with one tiptoed leg hanging out of the bed, not sleeping.

I have one thought going through my mind over and over during these sleepless nights: teenagers do not want to sleep with their parents.

The Power of Words

Words are powerful things. They are the tools we use to connect with each other, a carefully chosen word can make us feel sadness, anger, love, hate. As a parent, I have the joy of watching my children learn words and develop language. Every day, one of them says something that makes me marvel at how a child's brain hears, processes, then creates language.

Penelope is at the very earliest stages of language development. She coos, babbles, and cries, trying to engage her audience. When she is in a talkative mood, babbling away, she looks you right in the eye, and pauses. When you respond to her, as though you were having a conversation, her eyes light up, she smiles, then responds in her own language. She is learning the art of conversation, the give and take, at the young age of eight weeks.

Samantha has a solid grasp on the English language. She is clear, most people can understand most things she says. She has a good vocabulary, but is still acquiring words. It amazes me when she uses a new word. I wonder where she heard it and how she came to know the meaning of the word without being told. The other day, she told me she was just going to ignore Ella so she would go to sleep. She said it as an adult would, ignore just rolling off her tongue as though she used it everyday when in fact, that was the first time that particular word had been incorporated into her vocabulary. She is learning to utilize common expressions. They are a constant source of amusement for us. Seeing my 3 1/2 year old standing in front of me, hands on hips, scowling and saying, "Oh for goodness sake!" makes me laugh inwardly every time.

Ella is at one of my favorite stages, rapid language acquisition. Every day she is using multiple new words and speaking more clearly. She has started saying two to four word sentences and is becoming more expressive. Her tantrums, though still intense, are less frequent now that she can communicate a little better.

Last night, after the eighteenth time I had gone into the girls' room to tuck them in, and take them potty, and sing a song, and say good night to every doll in their beds, and get my orders for checking on the pets, I stepped over the baby gate. As I was closing the door (again), I said my usual, "Love you both", and heard a little "Wuv you, Mommy" in return. It made every trip over that gate worthwhile.

My Baby Smells

Like some people love the new car smell, I love the new baby smell. Nothing smells quite like it, so fresh and clean and sweet. I love to lean down and inhale the smell right off a new baby's head. I don't think anyone knows what causes that wonderful smell. And, like many things in early childhood, it fades so fast.

Unfortunately, Penelope does not smell so sweet. One of the many benefits of breastfeeding is virtually odorless poo. It really is nice not to have to smell that telltale stench, letting you know someone needs a diaper change, for the first few months. Also, considering breastfed babies poo six or more times a day, it clearly was Mother Nature's design to prevent us from rejecting our young due to olfactory intolerance. With both Samantha and Ella we saw the benefit. Penelope did not get the memo.

She is the most gaseous, foul smelling baby I have ever encountered. If I wasn't holding the baby emitting obvious noises, I would blame it on the dog, so foul is the odor. If she were an adult, I would wonder what exactly she had eaten to create such a stench. She poos only every other day, filling her diaper so fast and full it explodes, leaving a brown stream running down her legs and requiring rapid wardrobe changes to prevent said liquid from contacting anything else. In between, she passes gas seemingly continually. Something in her intestinal tract changes the sweet, nourishing milk into an eyebrow curling affront to the senses.

Samantha and Ella find the situation highly amusing. "Mommy, the baby farted," followed by a symphony of gaffaws can be heard in our house multiple times a day. Ella can be seen holding her wrinkled nose while saying, "Mommy, baby stinky poop."

My only hope is that like the sweet smell of a newborn, this will fade to a distant memory...soon.

Protecting Penny

When I can't sleep in the middle of the night and am in that half-awake, half-asleep state, my imagination starts to run wild and I think of all the things that could happen to my kids and how I can prevent it or rescue them.

Fire in the house is always a big one for me. As my mom will tell you, ever since the firemen visited our grade school, I've been scared of not being able to escape from a house fire. Now I worry I will escape but won't be able to get the girls out. In my mind, the fire is always in the hallway between our rooms, preventing me from running in there and dropping them safely out the window. The windows in their room are too high to reach from the ground without a ladder, so I'll have to waste precious time getting the ladder once I get out our bedroom window. And, with both cars in the garage, I will not be easily able to get the ladder that we store on the side of the SUV. Once I'm able to get the ladder from the garage to the front of the house into the bushes below their room, I imagine I'm unable to break the window, so I'll have to remember to grab a hammer or something to break it with. I always imagine their panicked little eyes, tears streaming down their faces, screaming for me as they pound on the windows, unable to open them.

Clearly, I have an over-active imagination. But as a parent, as soon as you leave the hospital you start to worry about how to protect your child from the all the bad things in the world: car accidents, abductions, getting burned by the stove, falling against the table and splitting their head open, the list is endless.

The one thing I didn't think of was how to protect Penelope from her big sisters. They love her (well, Ella mostly loves her, unless she's jealous), but they're so small they don't quite understand how to be gentle.

Samantha is generally okay. The biggest problem with her is when she wants to hold the baby. She imagines the baby is uncomfortable and wants to move her around. She is physically strong enough to lift Penelope, but she is too small to support her head, so as Samantha shifts her, Penny's head lolls about while I try to support it and remind Sam not to try to move the baby. "But Mom, she didn't like it like that".

Ella presents more of a problem. She's a more physical child to begin with, so a kiss may end with a head butt. She also is jealous at times and will pinch, scratch, and hit Penny given the opportunity. Today I was cleaning Moon Sand off the table outside and had set Penny, sleeping in her carseat, behind me. I heard Ella say "Rocka, rocka, rocka" and turned to see her sitting in the carseat, on top of Penny, rocking back and forth. Penny slept through the whole thing without making a sound (and without injury).

On top of trying to manage three small children and meet their constant needs, I have to remember to protect Penny from her sisters. When she's awake, I carry her in the Bjorn. Setting her down results in injury. When she sleeps, be it in her bassinet, carseat, or bouncy chair, she is in our room, safely behind a baby gate. If I do need to set her down when she's awake, for example, to change Ella's diaper, it has to be in her crib. I'm doing an okay job so far, no hospital trips, yet. But, Penny does have a few scratches and red marks on her face from when I thought I could get dinner ready with the two older girls in front of the television and Penny in the kitchen in the bouncy seat. (Ella really moves fast for a relatively novice walker.)

I'm waiting to see how it goes as Penny becomes more awake and wants to not be restrained all the time. My guess is she's going to become one tough little kid.

Firsts

A new baby brings with it a large number of firsts in a very short time: first cry, first time Mommy and Daddy hold baby, first day, first night, first poop, first bath, first car ride, first day home, first time your sister hits you (followed closely by the second time your sister hits you).

Many of these are great photo opportunities. I have each of them documented seventeen times for Samantha, as her baby album can attest. (Here's Samantha. Here's Samantha two seconds later. Oh, look! Here's Samantha two seconds after that.) With Ella, I caught all of them, but maybe not quite as many pictures of the same thing. I realized, cute as they are, it really isn't necessary to document every second of their lives. With Penelope, I'm having a hard time catching some of the firsts. She does something and I don't have the camera handy, or I'm too busy chasing the other two around the house to take the time to get the camera.

One of my favorite firsts is the first smile. For me, it's one indication that a little person exists and is starting to interact with things around. There's not a lot better in the world than having a baby smile at you.

Penelope started smiling two weeks ago, but I am having a hard time catching it on film.Penelope is not fast and loose with her smiles like her sisters were. She is more reserved, smiling only when she really means it, not just because you smiled at her first. She usually smiles only one or two times a day, and only one or two smiles at a time. She doesn't smile for five to ten minutes at a time. For that reason, I am just never prepared for the smiling with my camera and by the time I get to the camera, she's done. Opportunity lost. What am I going to put in her baby book where it says "Picture of my First Smile"?

Today, I finally caught the elusive smile. It does exist. So now I have exactly one picture of her smiling. Good enough for the baby book, but I can tell Penelope's first photos are not exactly going to be the actual first time she does somethimg. I guess that's the fate of third children. I guess it will give her a reason to tell her therapist how her mother ruined her life.