Anyways, moving on from rancid leg rolls. Lyla is TWO months old now. She got her shots and it was sad; but she didn't blame me, and stopped crying mere seconds after I cuddled her right up to my chest. I HATE watching my babies get shots but it is such a privilege to be the one person who can comfort them afterwards. Her little weirdo sister kept repeating the phrase "I wanna shot! I wanna shot." I mean, I know it is 2 year old territory to be jealous of the baby, but she took it a little too far by being jealous of Lyla getting needles stabbed into her. Oh, bless her heart.
One great thing Lyla has done for me? She LOVES the sound of the treadmill. Consequently, on days when I'm leaning more towards the (much easier) elliptical, she basically leaves me no choice but to run because it's the only way to get her to stop crying. I just sit her in her car seat right next to the treadmill and I start running while she starts sleeping. Quite a strange lullaby, huh? But I'll take what I can get. Thanks for the motivation, girl!
She also loves the sound of the vacuum, so she is keeping me on track with my workouts and my cleaning. Win, win. This also means she would LOVE her grandma Andersen, the vacuum queen ;)
Lyla still brings me so much joy and the mutual obsession is as strong as ever. So much so, that she basically demands to be held (and rocked) at all times. I've actually started eliminating dairy from my diet to see if it will make her enjoy her life a liiiiitttttle bit more. Let's just say: IT BETTER WORK BECAUSE I REALLLLLLY LIKE CHEESE.
She started smiling and, man- does our language even have words to describe how those first smiles make a momma feel? Well, it probably does- but I'm not a good enough writer to access those particular words and phrases right now... so I'll just say that I LOVE those grins of hers :)
^^ how can she so effortlessly pull off the double chin?
Okay and please tell me I'm not the only one who is alarmed by the size of her hands? I mean, she must have some important things to do in this life with those bad boys.
She has a short list of things she loves, but she loves those things fiercely. Mom, her binky, her sister, and milk. She has a love/hate relationship with being swaddled, being bathed, and being in her swing. There is no rhyme or reason as to when she is going to love those things, or hate those things. Sweet Lyla lights up my life, and I adore being her mother. She has captured my heart, that's for darn sure.