Straight Legs!

I hope you all had a nice Easter weekend. We sure did. The Easter bunny bounced all over the state for Miss Marin. The weekend included visits by all of her grandparents and great grandparents, most of her aunts and uncles, a marathon (Go Natalie!), a photo shoot, and a rear ended accident at the fault of myself (mother of the year) for being on my blackberry. (We are all okay. Our insurance rates and my otherwise squeaky clean driving record were hurt the most.) We had another successful, tantrum free mass; Aunt Lindsay told Marin all about "the country" (next time she hopes to see a cow!) and she set foot (well, not really) on her future University for the first time. We took a picture on the football field for her dorm room. :) ILL! INI!

As much as a joy Marin is, and as much as we love every second, there are times where we learn the true meaning of the word challenge. And just as we get one thing figured out... another pops up. Marin is now sleeping through the night every night, in every crib, in every new location that poor child wakes up in. What a trooper! Mark socializing and traveling down to her list of likes-- right under smiling, eating her hand, and burping.

There are a few things that she doesn't like, however, and we have come to learn her way of showing us. Whenever she is unhappy she straightens her legs out really straight, becomes stiff as a board and then starts to cry. We'll be holding her, something will set her off, and she will straighten up those legs. Then we say, "Oh! Straight legs!!" and wait for the other shoe to drop. It's actually pretty funny. I think it is her way of showing us her strong will. Jason is a little worried about that "will" in her teenage years. I say, way to be an independent woman, Marin. We just need to fine tune those manners. :) But first things first. With the straight legs come the tears and sometimes screams, and then, of course, we run around like crazy people trying to find a way to make her happy once again. One thing that we discovered that she does not like is eating from a bottle. Whenever we give her the bottle, Marin straightens those legs and screams and cries like we are trying to poison her. I had become quite concerned about this in the last few weeks. Her daycare days are fast approaching, and she'll need to eat from a bottle there to um, I don't know, survive! Plus, we weren't sure how endearing the daycare ladies would find her straight legs. We had heard that it can be hard for babies at first, and that it might be better if someone other than me try to feed her. Jas tried, my mom tried, Jason's dad tried, Katy tried, Lindsay tried... no go. We had been told to try holding her facing out, not cradled like I do when I nurse her. We all tried that. Twice.... no go. More cries... more screams... more straight legs.

Our pediatrician suggested that we try another kind of bottle. We did just that. Marin hated it. So, I bought 3 more kinds of bottles and continued the good fight. The third time really is the charm. We finally found a bottle that she will take without a fight. Of course, they are $10 a bottle. I'll tell you what though, after all of those straight legged fits, I was ready to spend $50 a bottle if I had to. Now, she still doesn't exactly gulp it down, but she takes it without tears and with legs relaxed comfortably. I'm not sure if she really likes the bottle or if she just got sick of being defiant and decided to appease us, but she drinks it none the less. Hallelujah.

To make sure she keeps up her streak, we have been feeding her from the bottle at least once a day. This morning I was giving it to her and she looked up at me like, "Okay mom. I'll do you this one favor. But you owe me." It's a favor I plan to repay her for someday by riding the teacups over and over again at Disney World. Then, mid bottle, she took her tiny little hand and rested it on the bottle. Just as I took note of how sweet it was, I noticed that her middle finger, and only her middle finger, was propped up against the bottle. I had to laugh. A message to the bottle. Letting it know just how much she disliked it. Take that, bottle!

It appears whether she knows it or not, straight legs or relaxed, we have ourselves a spit fire. Way to go, Marin. Once when I was about 18 or so, and having an especially defiant moment myself, my mom looked at me square in the eyes and said, "One day I hope you have a daughter just. like. you." I think she got her wish. :) Now please everyone, pray for our patience.