Thursday, October 27, 2011


I'm a middle child. I don't really believe in baby books. What does one have to do with the other? Well, when you're a middle child, you don't get a baby book. Your parents spend all their time, energy and money on the first born and as runner-up, the nostalgia of chronicling your every single move wears off. Therefore the idea of a baby book for the second born is a lost cause. I'm not bitter. I'm actually totally cool about it. One less thing I feel I have to do. Hell, Shawn is the sixth kid in his family so he knows how I feel, two-fold. This might sound cold-hearted, disconnected or jaded but I don't mean it to. Maci Mae's life is being recorded sufficiently with the technology of today. There's the zillion photos we take, the videos we record, the scrapbook my BFF is doing, our good ol' fashioned memories and of course, this here blog. To that end, here is an update on the squirt…

Maci Mae will be 15 weeks on Saturday. She has added heft and lost hair. She sports a mean mohawk these days. I wish the remains of her hair would hurry up and fall out so we can see what it will look like when it grows back. Red-head? Blonde, perhaps? Curly, straight… time will tell. Generally, Maci is a very happy baby but can unravel quick if tired. Unravel is actually a bit of an understatement. She can downright lose her mind if she's due for a nap. She takes after her Mama. She can also slide down the slippery slope of sadness if she's hungry. Again, this is after her Mama. I'm really hoping someday down the road I can rattle off some good things she gets from me. It's not looking promising.

Now, the single most important thing you need to know about Maci, aside from the fact that we think she is the single most adorable baby ever, is that she loves white noise. LOVES. Water running, the vacuum, hairdryers, fans and most of all, the exhaust hood above the stove. Shawn figured this out one day and it has been a saving grace ever since. It must quiet the voices inside her head or something because she doesn't utter a peep when she's under the trance. It's peaceful and it's amazing. It's really our only hope when she's inconsolable.

We've developed some quirky, albeit fitting, nicknames for the wee one as well. Shawn calls her peanut butter. I don't know where it came from but he also sings her a little diddy that goes something like… "peanut-butter-peanut-butter-peanut-butter, jelly." Don't ask me. I don't know. I call her Maci, fly-catcher, DeBoer. It's her Indian name. The girl has her mouth open, wide open, at all times. At daycare, she is known as Maci Mae Mo. This came about when Bree, best-daycare-lady-EVER, was reading The Help. Of course she started calling her this before I had read the novel and I was like, what the hell? After I started the page-turner, I completely understood. Sidenote: Read this book. It's amazing.

What else? Right now, she is a drooling fool. She always has her hands together and generally, they're both in her mouth. So much so that she usually gags herself at least a dozen times a day. She babbles and most recently is holding her sounds out a lot longer. She is moving constantly and kicking like crazy. I see a swimmer or gymnast or soccer player in our future. She's not the greatest fan of being on her belly but she'll withstand it if she's on the Boppy and has something to look at. Speaking of which, she no longer wants to lay down when you hold her. She wants to sit up and out, like the queen that she is, so she can see the world. Or herself. She gets a kick out of looking in the mirror. When she spots herself, one side of her mouth points up in a shitty, sly smile that speaks of trouble to come! She's also back to sleeping like a champ at night. Shawn puts her in what he calls, the sleep trap, and she's generally out in less then five minutes. After she fought and won the battle against her first cold, and spent a weekend sleeping in her car seat in her crib, our faith in her sleeping through the night was restored. She's taken to the Nuk like a fish to water and speaking of water, she's right at home in the shower. We forgo baths and just take showers with her which seems to be a hell of a lot easier for all parties involved.

I'm guessing we're going to have a roller in our very near future and maybe, hopefully, a giggler. Time will tell and I got nothing but when it comes to this one…


  1. She practically has her own blog...who needs a baby book (so says the 2nd child in her own family -- baby pictures? are you kidding? I have no baby pictures. None. zippo.)

    She is well loved -- I think her mouth is open all the time because she just can't help grinning at life!

    love to all,

  2. You might be onto something with the showers . . . Charly HATES baths because she's not used to water in her face. Bath time is definitely more stressful than it needs to be in the Henrichs home.



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