Sensitive Soul

Our daughter is a sensitive soul.

We attended several play dates last week (yes, play dates are my new happy hour, albeit without any drink specials, unless you count the juice boxes, and who doesn't love a good juice box?) whereby Ani experienced a few firsts which allowed her very sensitive, sweet personality to react in ways that I sometimes found a bit hard to watch:

- a near-ingestion of kibbles 'n bits, which to her credit were just sitting there and which do kind of resemble graham-cracker bites, and a prolonged period of wailing when she was whisked away from said bits;

- her first claustrophobic experience, after chasing after a very patient black and white cat (the intended ingestor of aforementioned kibbles 'n bits) under a coffee table and finding herself unable to get out;

- becoming the recipient of a few shoves and slaps from a slightly older toddler who didn't take kindly to Anika befriending her favorite toy; I of course intervened, trying to calm my own mother bear instincts and not rip that toddler to shreds right there in her own house as Anika's eyes and mouth opened wide and she crumbled to the ground.  (I also made a mental note to myself to make sure we can toughen up this kid a bit before she starts kindergarten.)

- her first sugary sweets.  These were, not surprisingly, a hit.  Her new favorites are these "Ghana" -- the rest of the name is in Korean characters and I haven't a clue what Ghana signifies -- chocolate-sandwich-type things that Mando brought back from South Korea.  They are like a heavenly marriage between an Argentine alfajor and a hostess cupcake.  (OK, I'll admit, these are actually my favorite, but when Ani sees me going for one, she's in the kitchen before you can say, chocolate, anyone?)

Speaking of food, any semblance of nausea that our little second nugget had gifted me is now long gone, and I'm afraid that this pregnancy may see me ballooning up to jumbo-sized proportions.  Because I absolutely cannot stop eating.  I wasn't that hungry with Anika (and, until the end, craved salads, of all the ridiculous things) but this time around, it's a different story.

After a huge bowl of risotto and several Ghana cookies, I'm finally full, and am enjoying the few minutes I have to myself before Anika wakes up and wants to get OUT. OF. THIS.CRIB.IMMEDIATELY and INTO. MOM's.BED.

Another first this week was Anika's 1st birthday pictures.  It was her first time in a studio, and for about five seconds she sat where we put her and allowed the very patient photographer to coax out a smile.  But then she tired of this and wanted to be where the action was.  She lunged for the camera and crawled like the dickens toward whatever toy we were haplessly flailing in front of her face in hopes of a smile.  She also discovered the door, and wanted to play her new favorite game:  chase.  She crawls, looks back, giggles, and takes off like a shot; you follow; she giggles some more and in this case makes it all the way to the appliances section before you can catch her (hey, people, I'm pregnant and she is REALLY FAST!)  So lots of giggles beyond the camera; none in front of it.  Ah well, they still turned out cute.

In other news, I'm bummed to report that the other thing Armando brought back from Asia is a horrid cold that I am praying doesn't try to use Anika as its next host.  My dear husband has quarantined himself to the guest room.  So I'm sitting in bed by myself, with the baby snoring in one room and the hubby snoring in the other.  Surround-sound snoring.  Lucky me.