What the heck is a winkle?

Being a parent means adopting an entirely new vocabulary: boppy, bumbo, Bjorn, and yes, winkle. From the moment you find out you're expecting you are inundated with words that previously meant nothing to you - or to anybody else without kids for that matter. We attended our first Christmas party as parents last weekend and were informed by the other moms and dads there that the winkle was the toy for the under 1 set, and that we had to acquire one immediately. Frankly the thing looked a little dull to me, but since I'm not exactly the demographic being targeted by Winkle, Inc., I figured my opinion didn't hold much water. So, since I'm always up for an excuse to shop for pretty much anything, off we went to Baby's R Us to buy one. We gave it to Ava, and she really does seem oddly fascinated by this thing. Who knew?

And now it's confession time. Out of all the babies we know around Ava's age, our little girl is the only one that can't roll over yet. I take full responsibility for this, since it's hard for her to learn these things when I never put her down. At this rate she'll be the only kid rolling around on a play mat in the 1st grade, so it is my current mission to have her rolling like a pro by Christmas. I've started taking her down to the basement every morning (the carpeted floor down there is much more comfy than the hardwood on the main floor) to do our little baby workout. We spend about half an hour working on rolling over (front to back, and back to front), sitting up independently, and standing up while holding on to the couch. At this point she still bobbles around like one of those dashboard hula dolls, but we're getting there.

I'm sure this will come as a surprise to no one, but it looks like Ava is going to be a tall and thin. At her 4 month appointment she was 50th percentile for weight, and 75th for height. (At this point the size of her head is only in the 15th percentile, but to anyone that's ever seen me try on hats this shouldn't come as a shocker either.) She's weighing in at 13lbs 5oz, and already outgrowing the length of some of her 3-6 month pants. I can't believe how fast she's growing up.

I love Christmas! But who's the big guy in the jammies?

We took Ava to see Santa on Sunday, and apparently he's a bit more in demand than he was when we were kids. You don't just stand in line anymore; now you have to make an appointment. But it gave Ava a chance to take a little nap in her stroller, and me a chance to do some shopping, so the extra time worked out well for everyone (except Andy. Sorry pal.) She's still little, so the fact that we were handing her over to a stranger to have her picture taken didn't bother her, and although she was too confused to smile she was still awfully cute.

The next thing on the list of Christmas "firsts" was picking out and decorating the tree, and we made sure to do it up right. I turned on some Christmas music, dressed Ava up in her reindeer shirt, and Andy and I got to work turning the house into a holiday wonderland. The stockings were hung by the electric fireplace with care, in hopes that Saint Nicholas would be smart enough to figure out a way into the house without a chimney. Ava was an excellent - and very happy - supervisor.

It's been a really big week for our little angel. As you saw in the previous post, Ava is now eating solid foods. We've been serving up baby oatmeal for about a week, and that went so well (that's an oatmeal picture on the right) that tonight we moved on to sweet potatoes. She seemed to really dig the taste, but the best part was the mess she made. In case any of you didn't know this, sweet potatoes are orange. Really, really orange. Lisa, since I know you haven't started this with Braydon yet, I have a bit of advice for you: invest in an apron. Or a hazmat suit.

The meal took forever since I had to keep stopping to take pictures and laugh, and the chair she was sitting in will never be the same. I never thought I'd have so much fun trashing the kitchen.

I think I can make millions with the invention of baby food-colored clothing, since I'm convinced that's the only way a child's wardrobe will ever survive this phase of life. Who's with me?

Ava's ready for her close-up, Mr. Demille.

For those of you that haven't had a chance to see Live Action Ava yet, this post is for you. Being the proud (and slightly dorky) parents that we are, Andy and I filmed Ava's first experience with solid food. She wasn't nearly as freaked out by the whole thing as I thought she might be, and only wore about half of what we spooned into her mouth. I'm pretty sure this means she swallowed the other half, so I consider the whole operation a success. Now please silence your cell phones, and hold all applause until the movie is over. Thank you, and enjoy the show.

This food looks great! Now, who's teeth can I borrow?

Ava's first Thanksgiving was absolutely wonderful. We loved getting a chance to relax and spend time with family, eat tons of fantastic food, and watch Ava get smothered with love and kisses. Her grandparents were so excited to see her I was afraid they weren't going to let us take her home. In fact, if we didn't have all the good toys here, she may not have wanted to come with us. She was quite the busy girl the whole trip...

She had sing-a-longs with Aunt Shirley...

Long conversations with Grandpa...


She tried on Grandma's "hair"...

And posed for lots of family pictures...

It was the perfect Thanksgiving and we miss everyone already. We're going to do this again next year, right?

Can you please purée these peanuts?

Ava has officially taken to the skies, and it couldn't have gone better. Andy I and were prepared for anything: long lines, parking problems, a fussy and/or uncooperative baby. Fortunately, we had none of those issues; unfortunately, that meant we had 2 1/2 hours to hang out in the airport. So, we had a nice long lunch at a steak place...

grabbed some magazines, changed another diaper, and then it was time to board. Time to worry about the next round of potential pitfalls: Ava's ears popping, running out of formula, or having to change a really poopy diaper in a bathroom the size of a hibachi. And again, nothing. Our little angel slept through takeoff, then spent the rest of the flight happily playing in her daddy's lap. I think my favorite moment was when I looked over and Andy had challenged Ava to a thumb war. Oddly, she won. Repeatedly.

We arrived in Georgia on time, and handed Ava over to the waiting arms of her very excited Grandma. And two very exhausted parents breathed a sigh of relief.