Summer in the City

I try to fill our weeks with activities so that no day passes without some kind of interaction with others—for my sake and for Taylor's. On Tuesday and Thursday mornings, I workout at the CrossFit gym from 7:00 to 7:45 and am often home just after Taylor wakes up—by 7:30 on most days. Clay and I trade off time with Taylor for showers and a spot of morning tea, then we take breakfast at the table with T joining us in her highchair. Clay leaves for work by 9:45; Taylor, John Henry and I follow his departure with a 30-minute stroll around the neighborhood. Taylor is usually ready for a nap between 10:30 and 11:30 in the morning, during which time I try to sneak in some cleaning, laundry, emailing, phone calls—anything I need two hands or a quiet room to complete! In addition to the occasional social gathering via a Meetup group, our summer weekly schedule currently includes:

Mondays, 11:30-12:00 - Emler Waterbabies swim class (sometimes followed by lunch with Shelley and Jaylen until 2:00).

Tuesdays, 10:45-11:45 - Heartsong Music Together class


Occasional Wednesdays, 1:00-4:00 - Grandma Hoffman comes over to play with T (while I tackle house projects).


Thursdays, 2:00-6:00 - Jennifer watches Taylor (while I write, research and plan my next career phase).

Fridays - 10:30-11:45 - Spanish for Babies Meetup group with Aileen and company followed by midday lunch with Clay.

Clay's just come off of a few months of crunch time—12-hour workdays and a number of six-day workweeks. (Which means 12-hour workdays and six-day workweeks for both of us!) The first few nights that he was home by 7:30 in the evening felt like vacation. Wee Bear is still taking her time getting to slumberland, with bedtime falling between 8:30 and 9:30, so Clay is able to see her up and at 'em for a little while each evening. And he's patented his own go-to-sleep (or back-to-sleep) method involving the "chest rest" and "hand swaddle." It's quite effective, really, and a nice alternative to nursing.

Six Months and Standing

Six days after her six-month birthday, on May 8, Taylor decided to stand up—and I was lucky enough to see it. I had just walked back into the room to find her fully awake in her crib, pulling up on the upper crib rail with both hands, chest raised off the surface of the mattress. She had been doing this regularly, but this time she pulled her chest up high enough to be able to inch her feet under her body and place them, step by unsteady step, one in front of the other until she was in a standing position, hands supporting her on the crib rail. She smiled in that unconscious, gleeful way that only babies and young children are capable of smiling. My words to her at the time: "You just did that! You just stood up!" And we laughed together at her remarkable accomplishment.

A few weeks later, on May 26, I took Taylor on her first trip—a visit to see her new cousin Max and her Aunty Karen and Uncle Dave in Denver, Colorado. Taylor read the manual in advance and followed the recommended procedures: nurse on take-off, sleep, wake upon landing. Dave and Karen live in a sweet little bungalow in The Highlands area of the city. Unlike our mostly carpeted home in Austin, Dave and Karen's place has hardwood floors. An hour or so after our a.m. arrival, I put Taylor down to, presumably, scoot her way along the hardwoods in pursuit of a toy. As I began to look away from her for a moment, my head quickly snapped back in a double-take. On contact, Taylor had started crawling—a full and complete, all-fours crawl. No more launching forward for our little one. She had found a new means of getting around. And we hadn't even unpacked yet.