5 months

5 months? Where does it go?

Maren is 5 months old today, and she seems to be celebrating this milestone by (insert drum roll here...) sleeping through the night! Hooray, Maren! (At least, until she starts teething. Or something else. But we'll take it where we can get it.)

She's been LOVING anything she can chew on.

And she laughs when Dad holds her up over his head and sings, "Superbaby!"

She's still working on tummy time and rolling over, which she does sporadically. And back-to-front rolling is coming soon, if she could just figure out what to do with that one arm that gets stuck underneath.

Happy 5 months, Maren. We're awfully lucky to be your parents.

just some photos

march madness with maren

We are deep in the throes of March Madness at our house. Basketball, of course. But there are other kinds of madness too: Nap Madness (otherwise known as, "Maren refuses to take naps of more than 20 minutes at a time"); Teething Madness (she's constantly chewing on something); and Laughter Madness (she has a great giggle).

She cheered for Gonzaga - alas, to no avail (she was horrified, as you can see), but the outfit should fit better next year anyway. Here's to the 2012 tournament!

In addition to basketball, she also loves piano time. She's a well-rounded 4-month old.

Grandma and Grandpa Sachse visited last week and took Maren on several walks, which she loved.

an update from Maren

Hi, this is Maren.

I wanted to tell you about my weekend. My parents decided it would be a good idea to take me along on my mom's confirmation retreat. I thought this sounded like fun at first, because there were going to be 30 junior high kids there and the junior high kids think I am really cute. Also, I got to wear this nice sweater from my Aunt Teresa and Uncle Eric. That was good too. My mom and dad said we were going to stay in a "cottage." That sounded fine to me.

But then we got to the camp, and it turned out that my parents' idea of a "cottage" was not really the same as mine. [Editorial note: Maren's parents were not very excited about this "cottage" either.] I like it to be warm inside. And this cabin was not very warm. To be honest, it was very, very cold. I did not like this. At. All.

I tried to tell my parents that I was not very happy. The way I do this is by waking up every 45 minutes and screaming really loud. I did this all night long, and they still couldn't understand what was wrong! Sometimes they are not very smart.

In the morning, we were all pretty tired. My parents didn't look very good, actually. Usually they are pretty cheerful in the morning, but they had big bags under their eyes and I heard my mom say something about how she wasn't sure she could teach the junior high kids with no sleep. I don't know why. It doesn't seem that hard to me. Besides, I got to take a bunch of naps in the morning, so by the time my mom had some free time in the afternoon, I was ready to play! She wanted to nap. How boring is that? I made sure she stayed awake so we could play.

My dad was playing golf. He said he almost fell asleep on the course. I don't know why.

We went home in the afternoon so I slept just fine that night in my own bed. I'm not sure why my parents didn't understand that I prefer a warm room. But now they know. They really, really know.

Good thing I am cute, they say.

Love,

Maren.

maren plays the piano

We've noticed that Maren really enjoys music. She loves staring at the choir while they sing during church. She smiles broadly when you sing to her - she has a real taste for Broadway musicals (perhaps because these are the only songs her mom can think of more often than not). And, since she was very little, she calms down when listening to Mom play the piano. Maybe she's a musician in the making. Or a music lover, anyway.

Tonight, she listened and then helped play some piano music:

First, we listened for awhile. But listening and not being able to see the keys gets old. Fast.

It's important to read the music carefully.

Also, you have to keep track of the fingers.

It gets even trickier when your dad keeps taking photos all the time.

Watch out, Mozart.