And already I'm missing days. I can only claim as an excuse that Baby K's first immunizations were traumatic for both of us. She's been fussy and unsettled since, and I can hardly blame her, since her own mother held her in place while a horrible, mean nurse jabbed huge metal spikes into her legs and poured something nasty into her mouth and made her choke. And then she was sick, twice.

I know immunizations are important. I know polio and diptheria are nothing to mess with.

I still feel intensely, horribly guilty.

I'm told this is common.

I think waking me up every hour during that first night was entirely justified on her part. I still really, really hope that she sleeps better tonight!

Another evening post. I really do have to get better at this.

I am rereading, for the far-to-many-to-count-eth time, one of L. M. Montgomery's 'Anne books'. Anne's House of Dreams, to be specific. I never get tired of reading Ms Montgomery's work - I love her use of language and her beautifully defined characters.

I can trace my determination to be a writer back to reading another Montgomery work, Emily of New Moon. When I read the vivid descriptions of Emily's drive to write and create stories it was an absolute revelation for me. Because I'd always made up stories, for as long as I could remember, but it had never occurred to me to write any of them down. Once I'd made that leap, though... wow, did it seem obvious. I loved stories, and I wanted to write them. More than twenty years later, I still do - and have written quite a few. Nothing publishable as yet, but practice makes perfect.

That's one of the reasons I created this blog. While I love to write, I am extremely undisciplined and disorganized. I need to practice writing every single day. Even if it's just a bit.

And if I should become published at some happy future time, having a blog already going will probably be a good thing. I'm told all the cool writers have them these days.

And it's this or bloody Twitter, and I just don't have the attention span for that. I can barely work Facebook. In MY day, you know, we had Livejournals and that was it! And we were grateful for it! And three icons was enough for anyone!

Montgomery and Livejournal. I am such a dinosaur some days.

Three days in and I'm already posting in the evening instead of the morning. But that still counts as every day, at least!

Today I went to the Pregnancy, Babies and Children's Expo, with Baby K; the spousal unit who shall be known henceforth as the Hedgehog (he picked it); and my mother. I wasn't really sure what to expect, but was looking forward to seeing a few things, like shaped cloth diapers, out of the packaging and ready to be examined before purchasing.

It was actually kind of awesome. I've been to a few small comic-cons - okay, one, but I got to Supanova every single year except for this year because I was in the hospital after having Baby K - and it was very much like that, only with babies instead of comics or tv shows.

Lots of merch - some good, some overpriced, and some just plain odd.

Small amounts of overpriced food.

Special con-only deals for everything from sippy cups to baby shampoo to lambskin rugs.

Lots of haphazardly dressed people with blank expressions wandering around (a much higher proportion of women, however).

Shiny stuff that you had never before imagined but immediately had to have, else life would not be worth living.

I have clearly been living in some ivory tower of geekdom, because I didn't know the normals had cons. But they totally do! They just have different themes to base them around, like babies or home improvement or something. And, even better, there was a lot of the same general cameraderie. 'We're all here for the same reason', said the polite rounds of pram-tango and the weary but sincere smiles. 'Baby fandom, sweet as, eh?'

The understanding extended to Sharing One's Expertise and Admiring Shiny Toys, too. I weighed in on a couple of conversations like the one about stainless steel baby bottles (Mine's only ten weeks old and she's already almost outgrown the 125ml bottles, definitely go for the next size up) and felt ridiculously smug about the way the pregnant women nodded thoughtfully at my imparted wisdom. It's amazing how a ten-week crash course can make one feel like an expert.

As for the Shiny Toys - I don't drive an actual vehicle. My depth perception isn't up to it. But Baby K rides around in a sweet toffee-tinted Strider Plus with second-seat capabilities, and I got stopped more than once with the question 'how do you like the pram? Would you recommend it?' I, as it happens, totally would. I love the Strider Plus. It's big, but not too heavy for me to manage. It's easy to get on and off the train on my own, and since I don't drive it needs to be easy to handle on public transport. It's adjustable from newborn to four-year-old seating arrangements with a minimum of effort. Baby K can face towards me now, and later will be able to face outwards to see the world. The basket underneath is HUGE. Every time I was stopped I sounded like I was being paid to advertise the things, but I swear every word was true. And I think I now have a slightly better understanding of how it feels to have one's vehicle admired by jealous passers-by.

To the Hedgehog's surprise and my delight, we actually had a very good time. And I heartily recommend to any geek who has recently spawned or is going to that they find one of these baby show thingies and attend it. Because if it's anything like the one I went to today?

You'll feel right at home.

Giant Shoes

My daughter celebrated her ten-week 'birthday' by sleeping through the night.

I will pause for a moment to allow any other parents reading this to go green with envy.

Baby K - so-called because her other nicknames are potentially very embarrassing, and she might read this one day, and who wants the whole internet to know that you were called 'Miss Wiggles' when you were a baby? - has so far been an unnervingly good baby.

She rarely cries.

She sleeps well.

She communicates clearly with gestures and fusses, even at such a young age.

And now she's sleeping through the night. Which is great, don't get me wrong, I'm enjoying this whole sleeping thing enormously, but it has me worried. Surely this cannot last. After all those dire warnings, those portentious mutterings from more experienced mothers, how long can she continue cheerful and cooperative?

That other shoe is going to fall sooner or later. And judging from how well everything's going, that other shoe is going to be approximately the metaphorical size of Queensland. (For Americans, the state of Texas will, if memory serves, fit into the state of Queensland four or five times over with room around the edges.)

I suspect the other shoe's name will be 'Teething'.

I should enjoy that sleep while I'm getting it.

One day I want to be a published novelist.

One day I want to be a mother of more than one.

One day I want to learn to cook... well.

One day I want to be organized.

One day I want to learn Japanese.

One day I want to master reading the tarot.

One day I want to travel the world.

One day I want to write a blog.


Well. One down.