G is completely wound-up, seemingly all the time now.   She has always been high-energy, which is something i love about her so dearly and makes me think we have a connection that we’ll share forever – the 2 of us bouncing off the walls into the wee hours for years to come.   But lately its pissing me off, and I feel pretty bad about that.   Its hard to stay calm when i get climbed on, grabbed, knees in my crotch, elbows in my stomach, and tinyHands clawing at everything within reach.   I’ve actually had to yell at her a couple times, not angry, but cause she is a force of entropy threatening to break everything she is touching and grabbing and pounding and throwing.   Health & Human Services should not get involved when I chastise my daughter to stop jabbing a screwdriver into my laptop.

Some of her frantics are surely due to her emotional adjustment, actually most of them are – it seems she screams and has tinyTantrums at the drop of a hat.   Today she put her spoon into a little dish, which kept tipping over, and she had a hissy when she could not get the spoon to stay in the dish standing up.   GZUS G!!!!! Then she jumped on Beckie and all I saw was her head burrowing into the couch while her feet kept churning like a running back pushing the pile.   Its hard to keep her needs in perspective when she is a livewire never giving me a moment to rest, unless she is busy assaulting Beckie.   In the space of a quarter mile walk to the Green Park yesterday, which she has taken dozens of times before, she wanted her stuffed dog, didn’t want her dog, wanted her tricycle, wanted me to pull her tricycle, wanted me to carry her tricycle, wanted to help carry her tricycle, wanted to ride her tricycle again and so on and so on and so on.   This was in a good mood too, after I bribed her with some solo attention and a trip in the truck and a cab full of toys of her choosing.

She can’t be fooled either, unfortunately she has gotten too smart.   She critically observes the amount of chocolate going into her chocolate mile, and thows a fit if its not enough, which comes fast on the heels of the fit she threw cause she had to have chocolate milk and not rootbeer.   All this is the diet no-sugar kind too!   Or when she is demanding I chase her around the house, she is full of criticism if my efforts at chasing are not sufficiently vigorous.   Who is the one who supposed to be getting tired out here anyway!??!  

Alana, on the other hand, could sleep through a stampede of elephants.   This is her at her most restless, pinching a loaf all the while never opening her eyes or making anything more than the tiniestGrunt.

If I hadn’t been pointing the camera, you would have never known the baby had just accomplished a major goal for the afternoon.   They don’t call it the Ugly Face for nothing.

I was alone with Alana for an extended period for the first time this afternoon.   Its not that I’ve avoided it, it just hasn’t worked out and I’ve seen no point in forcing the situation.   Beckie was worried that Alana had never taken a bottle.   I couldn’t tell, she is just that easy, it took one and a half tries for her to unshackle herself from the tyranny of the boob.   Longest I’ve seen her with her eyes open too.

Unlike with G, I’ve developed sense enough not to force a lot into her just to have it get tossed right back up all over me.   Digestion is complicated business when you are only 18 days old.