Ah, Father's Day. A day to celebrate 50% of the reason we each exist... typically with some sort of tongue-in-cheek card that says "thanks, Dad, for not killing me when I was a kid" in not as many words.
But for me, I'm going to choose another route- giving a big public shout-out to the two men in my life that have helped make me who I am today. And probably embarrassing them in the process, because I'm good at doing that.
Starting with... my own dad. I certainly wouldn't be where I am today without him. My dad has always been my rock, my guidance, and my biggest cheerleader. He taught me the importance of hard work, determination, and never giving up and is the main reason I've never been a quitter. I used to roll my eyes when he'd dole out life lessons via stories about his employees at work, yet I always remembered those lessons and stories in the end. Behind the eye rolling, I knew he was telling me those things because he wanted me to be successful as an adult. I always liked to make him proud of me (and still do)- I think if you work hard at anything- especially parenting- you should be able to take some pride in the end result, am I right? I also remember lying in bed, crying my eyes out because of the cruel world that so strongly hates preteen girls (what I get to look forward to with my own daughter some day) and having my dad kneel beside my bed and listen to my whining. Looking back, I realize that he put aside his only free time to be there for me when I needed him the most. I'm sure he was exhausted from working long hours but he never let on to that, and it's those gestures that stuck with me and made me feel important and loved. So, Dad- I love you more than words can express and thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for every single thing you've ever done. And every single thing you've ever taught me. And for always believing in me and pushing me to be the best I can be.
And then there's hubby... this year is his first "real" father's day. I knew he'd be a good father to our child, but had no idea how easily he'd take to his new role. Seeing how strongly and deeply he loves our little girl makes my heart feel like it's going to explode into a million awesome pieces. I'm so happy that Emma gets to have a great role model in her life, just like I did- my dad always treated my mom with respect and modeled for me how a man is supposed to treat a woman. And Emma will grow up in the same way, and I couldn't be happier about that. She'll get to be daddy's little girl forever... she loves him so much, and so do I. We're both very lucky girls... she's the only one who gets to call him daddy, and I'm the only one who gets to call him my husband. :)
Ok, enough with the cheese. On to the cheeseball.
My life is over. It's been a great ride so far, but it's over now... because my crazy baby can crawl. As if it wasn't scary enough that she can crawl, she also doesn't have enough sense to know that she can't pull herself up to standing on certain objects like... I don't know... walls. Wicker baskets. The blanket hanging off the side of the bed. Silly baby...
This whole thing started yesterday when she was able to crawl forward about half of a body length before her "stanky leg," as we call it, would get in the way. She's so good at getting herself up to sitting by straightening out one leg and using it for leverage, that her leg automatically straightens while she's trying to crawl and thrusts her into a sitting position against her wishes. Thus, the stanky leg. I was on the house phone (yep, I am one of the few people my age with a house phone. And it's cordless too, because I'm cool like that) this evening and knew the crazy baby would want to play with it, so I put it on the floor way out of her reach- maybe about 3 feet away. And wouldn't you know it, she crawled right after it. And because I was so excited about her crawling for the first time, I quickly moved the phone further out of her reach and made her crawl farther. I'm going to give her a complex if I keep doing that stuff to her ;) Anyways, I shouted to hubby to come watch our amazing mobile child, and with some coaxing, she did it again.
So there you have it: the baby can crawl. My life is over. The end.
Other developments:
Pulling herself to standing in her pack n play. That started earlier this week... on Thursday (6/13) I think.
Some serious baby gibberish. It's far beyond babbling, as she's using inflection now and narrates her whole day. Sometimes I swear she's telling me a story, yelling at me in disgust, or asking me questions.
Taking steps! Her little feet are finally lifting up while she's standing and she's on her way to cruising on furniture, once she gets her sea legs.
Playing games. She'll hold out the strap of her changing pad so that her daddy can pretend to chomp on it, then she'll giggle and hold it out for him again.
Sharing. Awwwww... she offers to share her food sometimes. She'll hold it out in her hand and wait for you to pretend to eat it. Except her rice rusks (formerly "death cookies" but now she can eat them just fine) because she wouldn't share those with the Pope. Mostly because she's a baby and she doesn't know who the Pope is.
Stacking- definitely her most advanced skill. She has these little bowls that stack, snap together, etc. and there are tons of things you can do with them. They're in all different colors and graduated sizes, and she has enjoyed playing with them in different capacities as she's gotten older. Now, she'll take a bowl and stack it inside another one, then pick those two up and try to stack them in another bowl. She still looks drunk while she's doing it, though.
Sleep: I thought I was done-zo this week. She had been sleeping like such a champ for months and I was fully used to getting a good night's sleep every night and then BAM. Sleep regression. I remembered reading about how babies have sleep difficulties when they reach big milestones, like sitting up, because they like to practice their new skills all day and night. But I had no idea that it actually translates into screaming bedtime baby and night waking. And it couldn't have come at much worse of a time, either. Luckily, she has only had two nights of night-waking and a handful of nights of not wanting to go to bed. She would flip herself onto her tummy, sit herself up, then try to pull herself up on the side of her crib. When that didn't work, she'd get frustrated and cry. I'd put her on her back, and she'd repeat the whole thing. One night, I finally had to just stick my hand in the crib for her to play with (her lovey lost it's pizzazz, apparently) until she was sleepy enough for me to sneak out without her having a fit. Sheesh. After that night, we haven't had any more issues, but as always, that's subject to change.
Night two of night-wakings, though, was one of those "I-learned-that-the-hard-way" types of nights. I tend to learn things the hard way pretty frequently. This week's lesson: don't check on the baby in the middle of the night unless you really think something is wrong. She woke up and I heard her grunting, so I checked the monitor and saw that she was on her tummy. I gave her a few minutes and the grunting subsided, but I couldn't see her because the crib rail was blocking my view of her from the monitor. I could, however, see her arm and her hand and it appeared that she had fallen back asleep on her tummy. So I went to check on her, because she hasn't slept on her tummy since she was on the heart monitor and I am still a nut case about SIDS. Of course her bedroom door made a bunch of noise when I started opening it. So I stood there for a few moments, then peeked in and saw her lying on her tummy. I crept over to her crib, where I could see that her eyes were clearly open and quickly learned that she has really good peripheral vision. She picked up her head, and I backed out of her room, hoping she'd think I was a figment of her baby imagination. Nope. She proceeded to get really pissed so I had to make up a bottle and get her back into bed. Ugh.
That was really the difficult part of the whole thing- she would get really upset and start crying, but holding her didn't soothe her and only got her more awake. So bottle and rocking is the only way to get her back into bed, and I was hoping I wasn't setting up a bad habit. But she's done well since then, so we'll see what happens.
A lot has changed over the last two weeks- we had to move the baby monitor camera up onto the wall from it's former spot on the crib rail. We took her to the zoo last weekend and she adamantly refused to nap after we got back in the afternoon. She sat herself up in the crib and saw the camera. All I saw on the monitor was a big, close-up baby face, a fat hand, and then the carpet. She knocked the camera down twice before I wised up and moved it, but then we couldn't see her. So we hung it on the wall, where it has stayed. She's also now napping for 1.5 hour increments twice a day, which is a half hour shorter per nap than how she had been napping about two weeks ago. That actually happened quite suddenly.
Food: Still my biggest source of confusion and frustration. She eats baby puffs like a champ and is still really picky about her baby food/purees. She would eat yogurt all day every day if I'd let her. And anything mildly thick, lumpy, or textured makes her instantly gag and turn away her head. We've tried Cheerios, but those make her gag too. I can thicken her purees with cereal and she does fine with that, but anything else is a big fat no. *sigh* anyone have tips for a seriously gaggy baby? I don't want to battle a food aversion! And I'm tired of wasting so much baby food, and don't have the time or energy to make my own.
She still initiates kisses and it's the darned cutest thing ever. I caught her asking for kisses from the puppy today, too... for such an independent, non-snuggly child, she certainly loves kisses. Funny... mommy loves kisses too ;)
So one year ago today, I was in the hospital. Yep- it's been an entire year since my life changed so dramatically. I went to the doctor one day, and came home four weeks later as a mom with no baby in my arms. And here I am a year later- new house, new job, and a cheesy goober of a baby that is kind of a jerk to me at times. Ok... most of the time. She bites, slaps, kicks, and goobers all over me all day long. It's ok, though. I'll get her back some day!
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Sunday, June 2, 2013
Yogi Monster
So here I was thinking it had been a few weeks since my last post... yet Blogger.com just let me know that it's been nearly an entire month. YIKES! So much has happened... where to begin?
Mother's Day! That's a good place to start... Mother's Day was a sensitive subject to me for a little bit. Specifically, Mother's Day 2011 was just downright awful. I had been diagnosed as infertile about two months prior and had three failed cycles of fertility meds- and by "failed," I mean "didn't even come close to working." Add in a baby shower and a Facebook pregnancy announcement and I ended up a sobbing mess in bed that night at the thought of my dreams of motherhood being nothing more than just dreams. Ya... it was that kind of day. So Mother's Day 2013 was my redemption (although last year was pretty awesome too since I was still blissfully pregnant and feeling little flutters and kicks in my cute little belly). It started at about 3am, when my little tater woke up crying. I gave her a minute to see if she'd calm down, but nope. So I went into her room to rescue her leg, because certainly her crib had eaten her again, but I was wrong again. She was lying there on her back with the soles of her feet together in a perfect reclined butterfly pose, for those of you yoga fans out there. She cheesed at me as I slowly backed away from her crib and out of her room, and shut her door just in time for the crying to start again. I gave her another few minutes, but she kept getting more worked up and I surrendered to the thought that this was the beginning of the return of night-wakings. I stumbled into the kitchen- a ritual not too far removed from my memory- to make a bottle and just as I started shaking it, things got very quiet. I looked at the monitor, and that little goober of a baby was falling back asleep. Ugh. I put the bottle in the fridge and turned around to notice a photo frame on the counter with one of Emma's newborn photos in it and a card with "mommy" written on it. I decided that hubby clearly intended for me to open the card in the morning, so I faceplanted into bed and slept until the baby woke up. At which point, hubby jumped out of bed and told me to sleep in. Which I somewhat did, but mostly just relaxed in bed. When I got up, hubby announced that he hadn't made coffee because we were going to Dunkin Donuts. I opened my card, which was incredibly sweet, and admired my new framed photo of my boo-boo. Hubby then let me know that Emma had written me a card too, but she left it in her crib this morning. So I walked into her room, and on the corner of her mattress was a card from my sweet little baby girl. Written in it was a little note stating that Emma had a present for me in the office. I wiped away the tears that were forming in my eyes and went into the office, where a box was sitting on the couch that said "to mommy, love Emma." In it was a necklace with a ruby (Emma's birthstone) heart and diamond angel wings. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. I cried and hugged my two loves. We then indulged in some DND and took the baby to the park... it was a lovely day and I felt so overjoyed. Finally.
Alright. Mushy stuff is done.
Sleep: Still going well! For the last week-ish, my tater has been letting me rock her to sleep before putting her into her crib, which is SO much better than letting her put herself to sleep because that was getting to be a long process at times. A process that included me going into her room and putting her on her back since she decided to roll on her tummy and get pissed off about it. She's not much of a problem solver these days. I absolutely cherish the moments of her sleeping in my arms, and if it wasn't for my own need for sleep and my bad neck, I'd hold her in my arms and stare at her face all night long. Instead, I take about ten minutes or so and study every square inch of her face, her fat little hand, her arm, her hair... sometimes I give her soft little kisses (DON'T WAKE THE BABY!) and breathe in the scent of her freshly bathed baby-soft skin. It's pure bliss. I'm trying to soak up these moments because she's growing up so quickly and I won't be able to hold her while she drifts off to sleep. Sigh.
Food: I set out on this journey into parenthood thinking I'd have a baby who would graciously eat anything and everything, especially vegetables. I ended up with a baby who is extremely finicky and picky and downright fussy at mealtime. Unless you're feeding her some Gerber macaroni and cheese with vegetables, in which case you can't feed her fast enough. She also gags at certain textures still and I'm trying to figure out how to transition this kid into a toddler diet since she's rapidly approaching her first birthday and she's still on stage 2 foods. And puffs. She's a full-blown puff addict. As someone suggested, I've tried thickening her foods with cereal and she's done phenomenally well with it, but it's only proceeded to flare up her chronic constipation again. This poor kid poops like a rabbit most weeks. Her poor little bum. Anyways, I'm keeping track of what she does like and she's eating those foods just fine, so we'll just keep on trucking along and hope that she doesn't end up being a macaroni and cheese and chicken nuggets kind of toddler. She's still a yogurt fiend ("yogi-monster" as I typically say) and gladly shared my yogurt with me yesterday morning after she had finished her own breakfast.
Height/Weight: Remember how I said in my last post that she held steady at about 19.5 pounds for about a month? Yea, well she gained two pounds in about one week. And now she's been hovering around 21.5- 22 pounds for a little bit. I think she also got taller, AGAIN. She's fully in 12 month size clothes and we're starting her in size 4 diapers because the 3's are getting too snug. Someone make her stop growing!
Teeth: Still one, but tooth numero dos is starting to peek out from under those gums. She has had some fussy days lately, but has still been sleeping and napping well and chomping on everything. We bought her some flouride-free baby toothpaste and a baby toothbrush, and brushing her tooth is now her favorite part of her nighttime ritual. It's never too early for good dental hygiene, right? My dentist would be so proud.
Mobility: Still not crawling yet, but desperately trying. Within the last few days, she's started being able to stay on all fours for a bit and rock back and forth before diving onto her belly. Her preferred method of getting around is by rolling from tummy to back and back to tummy until she gets where she wants to be. I'm still in no hurry for her to begin crawling. Or walking, for that matter.
The biggest development? HER FIRST WORD. Saturday, May 25- "puppy"
Ok, fine. It was "puh-puh" but it's close enough. She was sitting on the floor and the dog came over for a visit, at which point Emma got extremely excited, squealed, and said "puh-puh" a few times. I chalked it up to coincidence (I have always referred to the dog as Emma's "puppy") and moved on with my day. But then she did it again when she saw the dog. And again. And then when I came home from work the other day, we were greeted at the door by the dog, and Emma looked down, smiled, and said "puh-puh!" She's a genius. I'm going to start filling out college applications for her soon.
I think she may also try to say "baby" but that's up for debate since it comes out "ba-ba" and she tends to say "bababababa" all day long. *shrug*
Emma's current tricks:
Wave
Clap her hands (she's been doing that for a while now)
Give kisses (now she initiates kisses which is seriously the cutest and most amazing thing I've ever experienced in my life)
dance
blow raspberries
pant like a dog (with her nose scrunched up. it's pretty adorable)
The waving is mostly at her own reflection because she's a conceited little diva like that. In fact, when she sees her reflection on anything- mirror, sliding glass door, car window, etc.- she immediately starts babbling at herself, cooing, smiling, and waving. She really needs to get over herself. Heeeeeeheeeeeee just kidding, she's cute.
Mother's Day! That's a good place to start... Mother's Day was a sensitive subject to me for a little bit. Specifically, Mother's Day 2011 was just downright awful. I had been diagnosed as infertile about two months prior and had three failed cycles of fertility meds- and by "failed," I mean "didn't even come close to working." Add in a baby shower and a Facebook pregnancy announcement and I ended up a sobbing mess in bed that night at the thought of my dreams of motherhood being nothing more than just dreams. Ya... it was that kind of day. So Mother's Day 2013 was my redemption (although last year was pretty awesome too since I was still blissfully pregnant and feeling little flutters and kicks in my cute little belly). It started at about 3am, when my little tater woke up crying. I gave her a minute to see if she'd calm down, but nope. So I went into her room to rescue her leg, because certainly her crib had eaten her again, but I was wrong again. She was lying there on her back with the soles of her feet together in a perfect reclined butterfly pose, for those of you yoga fans out there. She cheesed at me as I slowly backed away from her crib and out of her room, and shut her door just in time for the crying to start again. I gave her another few minutes, but she kept getting more worked up and I surrendered to the thought that this was the beginning of the return of night-wakings. I stumbled into the kitchen- a ritual not too far removed from my memory- to make a bottle and just as I started shaking it, things got very quiet. I looked at the monitor, and that little goober of a baby was falling back asleep. Ugh. I put the bottle in the fridge and turned around to notice a photo frame on the counter with one of Emma's newborn photos in it and a card with "mommy" written on it. I decided that hubby clearly intended for me to open the card in the morning, so I faceplanted into bed and slept until the baby woke up. At which point, hubby jumped out of bed and told me to sleep in. Which I somewhat did, but mostly just relaxed in bed. When I got up, hubby announced that he hadn't made coffee because we were going to Dunkin Donuts. I opened my card, which was incredibly sweet, and admired my new framed photo of my boo-boo. Hubby then let me know that Emma had written me a card too, but she left it in her crib this morning. So I walked into her room, and on the corner of her mattress was a card from my sweet little baby girl. Written in it was a little note stating that Emma had a present for me in the office. I wiped away the tears that were forming in my eyes and went into the office, where a box was sitting on the couch that said "to mommy, love Emma." In it was a necklace with a ruby (Emma's birthstone) heart and diamond angel wings. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. I cried and hugged my two loves. We then indulged in some DND and took the baby to the park... it was a lovely day and I felt so overjoyed. Finally.
Alright. Mushy stuff is done.
Sleep: Still going well! For the last week-ish, my tater has been letting me rock her to sleep before putting her into her crib, which is SO much better than letting her put herself to sleep because that was getting to be a long process at times. A process that included me going into her room and putting her on her back since she decided to roll on her tummy and get pissed off about it. She's not much of a problem solver these days. I absolutely cherish the moments of her sleeping in my arms, and if it wasn't for my own need for sleep and my bad neck, I'd hold her in my arms and stare at her face all night long. Instead, I take about ten minutes or so and study every square inch of her face, her fat little hand, her arm, her hair... sometimes I give her soft little kisses (DON'T WAKE THE BABY!) and breathe in the scent of her freshly bathed baby-soft skin. It's pure bliss. I'm trying to soak up these moments because she's growing up so quickly and I won't be able to hold her while she drifts off to sleep. Sigh.
Food: I set out on this journey into parenthood thinking I'd have a baby who would graciously eat anything and everything, especially vegetables. I ended up with a baby who is extremely finicky and picky and downright fussy at mealtime. Unless you're feeding her some Gerber macaroni and cheese with vegetables, in which case you can't feed her fast enough. She also gags at certain textures still and I'm trying to figure out how to transition this kid into a toddler diet since she's rapidly approaching her first birthday and she's still on stage 2 foods. And puffs. She's a full-blown puff addict. As someone suggested, I've tried thickening her foods with cereal and she's done phenomenally well with it, but it's only proceeded to flare up her chronic constipation again. This poor kid poops like a rabbit most weeks. Her poor little bum. Anyways, I'm keeping track of what she does like and she's eating those foods just fine, so we'll just keep on trucking along and hope that she doesn't end up being a macaroni and cheese and chicken nuggets kind of toddler. She's still a yogurt fiend ("yogi-monster" as I typically say) and gladly shared my yogurt with me yesterday morning after she had finished her own breakfast.
Height/Weight: Remember how I said in my last post that she held steady at about 19.5 pounds for about a month? Yea, well she gained two pounds in about one week. And now she's been hovering around 21.5- 22 pounds for a little bit. I think she also got taller, AGAIN. She's fully in 12 month size clothes and we're starting her in size 4 diapers because the 3's are getting too snug. Someone make her stop growing!
Teeth: Still one, but tooth numero dos is starting to peek out from under those gums. She has had some fussy days lately, but has still been sleeping and napping well and chomping on everything. We bought her some flouride-free baby toothpaste and a baby toothbrush, and brushing her tooth is now her favorite part of her nighttime ritual. It's never too early for good dental hygiene, right? My dentist would be so proud.
Mobility: Still not crawling yet, but desperately trying. Within the last few days, she's started being able to stay on all fours for a bit and rock back and forth before diving onto her belly. Her preferred method of getting around is by rolling from tummy to back and back to tummy until she gets where she wants to be. I'm still in no hurry for her to begin crawling. Or walking, for that matter.
The biggest development? HER FIRST WORD. Saturday, May 25- "puppy"
Ok, fine. It was "puh-puh" but it's close enough. She was sitting on the floor and the dog came over for a visit, at which point Emma got extremely excited, squealed, and said "puh-puh" a few times. I chalked it up to coincidence (I have always referred to the dog as Emma's "puppy") and moved on with my day. But then she did it again when she saw the dog. And again. And then when I came home from work the other day, we were greeted at the door by the dog, and Emma looked down, smiled, and said "puh-puh!" She's a genius. I'm going to start filling out college applications for her soon.
I think she may also try to say "baby" but that's up for debate since it comes out "ba-ba" and she tends to say "bababababa" all day long. *shrug*
Emma's current tricks:
Wave
Clap her hands (she's been doing that for a while now)
Give kisses (now she initiates kisses which is seriously the cutest and most amazing thing I've ever experienced in my life)
dance
blow raspberries
pant like a dog (with her nose scrunched up. it's pretty adorable)
The waving is mostly at her own reflection because she's a conceited little diva like that. In fact, when she sees her reflection on anything- mirror, sliding glass door, car window, etc.- she immediately starts babbling at herself, cooing, smiling, and waving. She really needs to get over herself. Heeeeeeheeeeeee just kidding, she's cute.
Sunday, May 5, 2013
If You're Happy and You Know it, Pretend You're Angry
I think we're finally reaching the point in Emma's young life when things aren't changing quite as rapidly as they had been...
But the biggest development is one itty-bitty little tooth that has popped on through her bottom gums. Yep- my goober has a pearly white! I didn't see it coming, either- she's been generally grumpy and angry for so long that I assumed she's just a feisty little kid by nature. So when my mom announced one day (she had been babysitting) that she felt a tooth, I was skeptical. Especially since she insisted she felt one a while back and there turned out to be no such tooth... and wouldn't you figure, my stubborn baby bird would not let me look at or feel her gums all night. Once I tricked her into letting me peek, I couldn't figure out if something was really there or not. It took a few days for me to be certain that there was a tooth poking out of those gums and now, about two-ish weeks later, the whole top of her tooth has officially come through. We have a baby tooth! And we didn't die in the process of it coming in! HOORAY!! Although I think tooth number two is on its way, and it seems to be much less kind to her. She tried chewing on my hand today and ended up leaving a tooth mark indented in my skin from biting me so hard. It hurt.
Seriously. For how feisty, strong-willed, and stubborn she is, I figured she'd be in 24/7 meltdown mode when her first tooth erupted... instead, I had no idea one was on its way. Here's to hoping the rest of her teeth come through so subtly, but I highly doubt that will be the case. As I mentioned before, she has been very angry and shouty lately, but that's not uncommon for her. She has still been sleeping like a total champ through it all, and hell, I'll take it! I can deal with angry and shouty much better than I can deal with whiny and excessive crying.
Sleep: Hallelujah, she's still sleeping through the night without a peep. Well, mostly. She is still in bed between 7:30 and 8:30 and falls asleep anywhere between 7:30 and 9:00, depending on her day and who babysat her. Last week, she woke up at about 10:45 one night when she realized her leg was stuck in the crib slats. I had already fallen asleep, so my groggy behind marched into her room, rescued her leg while she smiled and laughed at me (thanks, kid. I'm glad you thought it was so funny to wake mommy up!), then went back to bed. And so did she... because she's an awesome sleeper and knows how to put herself to sleep. That was an issue I dealt with for a few days, though- she kept getting her leg(s) stuck in the slats of her crib. I didn't want to use a bumper, because she's so squirrely that I know she'll somehow get all wrapped up in it. I've looked at mesh bumpers, but I can't find one that's functional and rated well (I've read lots of reviews of bumpers that don't stay up). And I'm serious when I say that she's squirrely when she sleeps- she generally kicks and flails while chatting to herself while she falls asleep at night. I had to rescue her legs again a few nights later when she had BOTH of them stuck in her crib. Luckily, I tiptoed into her room after she was nice and asleep and ever-so-gently moved her legs and tiptoed away. She had no idea I had even been there. But other than her crib eating her legs, she's been sleeping just fine. And the leg issue only lasted for a few days before she wised up and stopped getting them stuck... but then she started migrating to the top of her crib and sometimes sleeps with her head up against the slats. Oh, well. At least she's sleeping! She seems to have nightmares on some nights- or at least that's my best guess at what's going on. She wakes up and cries out a couple of times, then goes right back to sleep. Or never fully wakes up in the process. Something like that.
My saving grace over the last couple of months has been the fact that she's sleeping so well at night. The entire month of March felt like a constant battle in which I'd get knocked right back down after I struggled to get up. And repeat. I'm so glad I wasn't battling a baby who didn't want to sleep at night on top of everything else... including moving. I'm so glad that's over.
Her new chosen method of putting herself to sleep is a mix of extreme kicking and the most intense baby raspberries I've ever heard. She only pauses to take a breath or kick feverishly... and then suddenly, there's silence and she's asleep.
Oh, and we still use her motion sensing diaper clip at night. The darned kid can roll over in both directions (yay! She finally started rolling from back to tummy this weekend!) and is healthy as can be. I'm pretty sure if she hasn't had any episodes of apnea yet, there's a good chance she'll be just fine... but we'll just keep using it for a little longer. Maybe until she's... I dunno... three? lol
Food: UGH. She just doesn't want her solids anymore... she'll sometimes eat some fruit or sweet potatoes but usually she just purses her lips and turns away from the spoon after the first two bites of food. She'll eat her puffs and cookies, but I don't want her getting hooked on snacks before her first birthday. I'm hoping it's just a phase brought on by her teething. Since she's so interested in feeding herself (I gave her some pieces of toast one and she wouldn't let me give her any, but gladly fed herself. Miss independent. Sheesh!), I bought some fresh fruit and veggies and a mesh feeder, with the intention of her eating some food that way. Yea... big fail. You can give this kid anything that's not supposed to go in her mouth, and she immediately tries to eat it. Give her food, and she wants nothing to do with it. So naturally, when I gave her the mesh feeder, she looked it over, turned it all around to get a peek at every angle, then tossed it. I tried showing her that it goes in her mouth, and she pursed her lips and chucked it across the room (do you see what I mean about stubborn and feisty?!). So mommy got smart the other day and fed her some pureed fruit from a spoon, then dipped her mesh feeder in the fruit (with a frozen peach in the mesh feeder) and let her taste it. Then she started chomping on it and seemed to enjoy it... for a whopping few minutes. Then she chucked it again and wanted nothing to do with it. It's still a work in progress though.
Height/Weight: I was beginning to worry that she hasn't been getting enough to eat, and sadly, I think I'm right. She's been holding steady at about 19.5 pounds over the last month when she should still be gaining some weight. So I'm going to try to ensure she at least gets more formula if she insists upon not eating her solids. Hmph. She's still pretty tall, though. And fully in 12 month sized clothes! I boxed up and sold most of her 9 month sizes at a garage sale a few weeks ago and the remaining stuff is now boxed up and ready to go to a loving new home. I like it when she grows into a new size because shopping for baby clothes is my new hobby. Having a girl is tough on the wallet, though- I couldn't decide between the pink zebra printed bathing suit and the floral bathing suit, so I bought both. Ha! Typical me ;)
Mobility: She wants to crawl. So. Badly. I'm surprised because she hates being on her tummy so much that I thought she'd forgo crawling altogether, but she's trying! Just within the last few days, she's starting to move her legs more and is pulling her little booty up off the ground while trying to pull herself forward. She can easily move herself onto her tummy from sitting upright without doing a miserable face-plant in the process. And she loves to pull herself up to standing- with a little help, she can pull herself up on furniture now. My life will soon be over... once this kid goes mobile, there's no turning back. I will no longer be able to plant her on the floor and find her in that general area a few minutes later if I have to put laundry in the washer or pee or something like that. We have a lot of babyproofing to do.
I experienced another first- Emma's first big-girl vomit. Puffs and broccoli. Bleh. It is exponentially worse than formula vomit.
Emma got to spend some time with her Auntie Lauren a couple weekends ago! She's a very special person in my life, so it's important to me that Emma has a good relationship with her as Emma grows up. She's only met her Auntie Lauren a few times so far, but it's apparent that she loves her. Especially when Auntie Lauren shares her yogurt and banana with the baby. Earlier this week, she got to meet her first cousins once-removed, her second cousin, and her great aunt, who are all from North Carolina. It was a fun-filled day of shopping and Emma was a complete trooper- she only grumped a few times. She actually does really well when we go out- she loves to look around at everything and stare at people until they become uncomfortable.
My baby won't be a "baby" much longer. And this makes me so sad... my one and only baby girl! My, how time flies when you have an infant. An infant who won't be an infant in a few months... *sigh*
Now that she's 9 (almost ten! Aaaaahhhhhh!!) months old, the natural question that everyone asks is when we're having another baby. The answer?
Never.
It's an uncomfortable conversation to have with people I don't know well because... well... there's no way to adequately explain it without making it a long story that sounds very sob-story-ish. It's kind of like when strangers ask how old Emma is... do I say she's 9 months? Because she is. But then they start asking if she's crawling and I have to say no, but she was a preemie so it's normal. Or I can use her adjusted age and say she's 7 months, but she's already big for a 9 month old, so I'm sure the next question will be "how much did she weigh when she was born?" Announcing that she was 4lb 5oz would then lead right back into the "she's a preemie" conversation. Not that I mind, but I typically like to limit the amount of time I spend chatting with total strangers in public, because that a) gives them more time to try to touch my child without my permission and b) gives them more of an opportunity to give me unsolicited parenting advice. Anyways...
The truth of the matter is, we went through hell to have this grumping mess of a teething baby. The fertility treatments were frustrating, expensive, time-consuming, heartbreaking, and uncomfortable. Sitting in my car in the parking lot of my office while sobbing after finding out that another cycle was a bust is no bueno. Having surgery sucked. Sitting in a hospital for four weeks was torture. And having my child in the NICU was something I never want to experience again in my life. Ever. For any reason. It was traumatic, stressful, and forever changed who I am as a person and I am not doing it again. I don't think I even need to mention that we were lucky in the fact that Emma is such a healthy little girl and her feisty attitude helped her break out of her hospital prison an entire five weeks before her due date. But if we were to have another child, there's no saying that we would be as fortunate. Emma suffered enough. It would be irresponsible to try to do this again at the possible expense of our child's quality of life for any period of time. A newborn baby belongs at home, snuggled up with mommy... not in a cold hospital room surrounded by nurses and doctors. So as time is going on, I'm formulating my response to the dreaded "when are you having another baby?" question.
Although... hubby and I made an incredibly cute baby. It's a shame we can't make another giant-eyed feisty ball of grump. Wait, no. One is enough. ;)
Emma's nicknames this week:
Tater
Boo-Boo
Emmy
But the biggest development is one itty-bitty little tooth that has popped on through her bottom gums. Yep- my goober has a pearly white! I didn't see it coming, either- she's been generally grumpy and angry for so long that I assumed she's just a feisty little kid by nature. So when my mom announced one day (she had been babysitting) that she felt a tooth, I was skeptical. Especially since she insisted she felt one a while back and there turned out to be no such tooth... and wouldn't you figure, my stubborn baby bird would not let me look at or feel her gums all night. Once I tricked her into letting me peek, I couldn't figure out if something was really there or not. It took a few days for me to be certain that there was a tooth poking out of those gums and now, about two-ish weeks later, the whole top of her tooth has officially come through. We have a baby tooth! And we didn't die in the process of it coming in! HOORAY!! Although I think tooth number two is on its way, and it seems to be much less kind to her. She tried chewing on my hand today and ended up leaving a tooth mark indented in my skin from biting me so hard. It hurt.
Seriously. For how feisty, strong-willed, and stubborn she is, I figured she'd be in 24/7 meltdown mode when her first tooth erupted... instead, I had no idea one was on its way. Here's to hoping the rest of her teeth come through so subtly, but I highly doubt that will be the case. As I mentioned before, she has been very angry and shouty lately, but that's not uncommon for her. She has still been sleeping like a total champ through it all, and hell, I'll take it! I can deal with angry and shouty much better than I can deal with whiny and excessive crying.
Sleep: Hallelujah, she's still sleeping through the night without a peep. Well, mostly. She is still in bed between 7:30 and 8:30 and falls asleep anywhere between 7:30 and 9:00, depending on her day and who babysat her. Last week, she woke up at about 10:45 one night when she realized her leg was stuck in the crib slats. I had already fallen asleep, so my groggy behind marched into her room, rescued her leg while she smiled and laughed at me (thanks, kid. I'm glad you thought it was so funny to wake mommy up!), then went back to bed. And so did she... because she's an awesome sleeper and knows how to put herself to sleep. That was an issue I dealt with for a few days, though- she kept getting her leg(s) stuck in the slats of her crib. I didn't want to use a bumper, because she's so squirrely that I know she'll somehow get all wrapped up in it. I've looked at mesh bumpers, but I can't find one that's functional and rated well (I've read lots of reviews of bumpers that don't stay up). And I'm serious when I say that she's squirrely when she sleeps- she generally kicks and flails while chatting to herself while she falls asleep at night. I had to rescue her legs again a few nights later when she had BOTH of them stuck in her crib. Luckily, I tiptoed into her room after she was nice and asleep and ever-so-gently moved her legs and tiptoed away. She had no idea I had even been there. But other than her crib eating her legs, she's been sleeping just fine. And the leg issue only lasted for a few days before she wised up and stopped getting them stuck... but then she started migrating to the top of her crib and sometimes sleeps with her head up against the slats. Oh, well. At least she's sleeping! She seems to have nightmares on some nights- or at least that's my best guess at what's going on. She wakes up and cries out a couple of times, then goes right back to sleep. Or never fully wakes up in the process. Something like that.
My saving grace over the last couple of months has been the fact that she's sleeping so well at night. The entire month of March felt like a constant battle in which I'd get knocked right back down after I struggled to get up. And repeat. I'm so glad I wasn't battling a baby who didn't want to sleep at night on top of everything else... including moving. I'm so glad that's over.
Her new chosen method of putting herself to sleep is a mix of extreme kicking and the most intense baby raspberries I've ever heard. She only pauses to take a breath or kick feverishly... and then suddenly, there's silence and she's asleep.
Oh, and we still use her motion sensing diaper clip at night. The darned kid can roll over in both directions (yay! She finally started rolling from back to tummy this weekend!) and is healthy as can be. I'm pretty sure if she hasn't had any episodes of apnea yet, there's a good chance she'll be just fine... but we'll just keep using it for a little longer. Maybe until she's... I dunno... three? lol
Food: UGH. She just doesn't want her solids anymore... she'll sometimes eat some fruit or sweet potatoes but usually she just purses her lips and turns away from the spoon after the first two bites of food. She'll eat her puffs and cookies, but I don't want her getting hooked on snacks before her first birthday. I'm hoping it's just a phase brought on by her teething. Since she's so interested in feeding herself (I gave her some pieces of toast one and she wouldn't let me give her any, but gladly fed herself. Miss independent. Sheesh!), I bought some fresh fruit and veggies and a mesh feeder, with the intention of her eating some food that way. Yea... big fail. You can give this kid anything that's not supposed to go in her mouth, and she immediately tries to eat it. Give her food, and she wants nothing to do with it. So naturally, when I gave her the mesh feeder, she looked it over, turned it all around to get a peek at every angle, then tossed it. I tried showing her that it goes in her mouth, and she pursed her lips and chucked it across the room (do you see what I mean about stubborn and feisty?!). So mommy got smart the other day and fed her some pureed fruit from a spoon, then dipped her mesh feeder in the fruit (with a frozen peach in the mesh feeder) and let her taste it. Then she started chomping on it and seemed to enjoy it... for a whopping few minutes. Then she chucked it again and wanted nothing to do with it. It's still a work in progress though.
Height/Weight: I was beginning to worry that she hasn't been getting enough to eat, and sadly, I think I'm right. She's been holding steady at about 19.5 pounds over the last month when she should still be gaining some weight. So I'm going to try to ensure she at least gets more formula if she insists upon not eating her solids. Hmph. She's still pretty tall, though. And fully in 12 month sized clothes! I boxed up and sold most of her 9 month sizes at a garage sale a few weeks ago and the remaining stuff is now boxed up and ready to go to a loving new home. I like it when she grows into a new size because shopping for baby clothes is my new hobby. Having a girl is tough on the wallet, though- I couldn't decide between the pink zebra printed bathing suit and the floral bathing suit, so I bought both. Ha! Typical me ;)
Mobility: She wants to crawl. So. Badly. I'm surprised because she hates being on her tummy so much that I thought she'd forgo crawling altogether, but she's trying! Just within the last few days, she's starting to move her legs more and is pulling her little booty up off the ground while trying to pull herself forward. She can easily move herself onto her tummy from sitting upright without doing a miserable face-plant in the process. And she loves to pull herself up to standing- with a little help, she can pull herself up on furniture now. My life will soon be over... once this kid goes mobile, there's no turning back. I will no longer be able to plant her on the floor and find her in that general area a few minutes later if I have to put laundry in the washer or pee or something like that. We have a lot of babyproofing to do.
I experienced another first- Emma's first big-girl vomit. Puffs and broccoli. Bleh. It is exponentially worse than formula vomit.
Emma got to spend some time with her Auntie Lauren a couple weekends ago! She's a very special person in my life, so it's important to me that Emma has a good relationship with her as Emma grows up. She's only met her Auntie Lauren a few times so far, but it's apparent that she loves her. Especially when Auntie Lauren shares her yogurt and banana with the baby. Earlier this week, she got to meet her first cousins once-removed, her second cousin, and her great aunt, who are all from North Carolina. It was a fun-filled day of shopping and Emma was a complete trooper- she only grumped a few times. She actually does really well when we go out- she loves to look around at everything and stare at people until they become uncomfortable.
My baby won't be a "baby" much longer. And this makes me so sad... my one and only baby girl! My, how time flies when you have an infant. An infant who won't be an infant in a few months... *sigh*
Now that she's 9 (almost ten! Aaaaahhhhhh!!) months old, the natural question that everyone asks is when we're having another baby. The answer?
Never.
It's an uncomfortable conversation to have with people I don't know well because... well... there's no way to adequately explain it without making it a long story that sounds very sob-story-ish. It's kind of like when strangers ask how old Emma is... do I say she's 9 months? Because she is. But then they start asking if she's crawling and I have to say no, but she was a preemie so it's normal. Or I can use her adjusted age and say she's 7 months, but she's already big for a 9 month old, so I'm sure the next question will be "how much did she weigh when she was born?" Announcing that she was 4lb 5oz would then lead right back into the "she's a preemie" conversation. Not that I mind, but I typically like to limit the amount of time I spend chatting with total strangers in public, because that a) gives them more time to try to touch my child without my permission and b) gives them more of an opportunity to give me unsolicited parenting advice. Anyways...
The truth of the matter is, we went through hell to have this grumping mess of a teething baby. The fertility treatments were frustrating, expensive, time-consuming, heartbreaking, and uncomfortable. Sitting in my car in the parking lot of my office while sobbing after finding out that another cycle was a bust is no bueno. Having surgery sucked. Sitting in a hospital for four weeks was torture. And having my child in the NICU was something I never want to experience again in my life. Ever. For any reason. It was traumatic, stressful, and forever changed who I am as a person and I am not doing it again. I don't think I even need to mention that we were lucky in the fact that Emma is such a healthy little girl and her feisty attitude helped her break out of her hospital prison an entire five weeks before her due date. But if we were to have another child, there's no saying that we would be as fortunate. Emma suffered enough. It would be irresponsible to try to do this again at the possible expense of our child's quality of life for any period of time. A newborn baby belongs at home, snuggled up with mommy... not in a cold hospital room surrounded by nurses and doctors. So as time is going on, I'm formulating my response to the dreaded "when are you having another baby?" question.
Although... hubby and I made an incredibly cute baby. It's a shame we can't make another giant-eyed feisty ball of grump. Wait, no. One is enough. ;)
Emma's nicknames this week:
Tater
Boo-Boo
Emmy
Sunday, April 14, 2013
84th in What?!
Emma can be a real jerk sometimes. I'll be holding her and she'll be looking all sweet and adorable, then suddenly she's trying to rip my throat out. Or squeeze my cheek off. Or she'll start punching or slapping me in the chest. Sometimes she'll even grab my chest with one hand, the side of my upper arm with her other hand, and proceed to bite my shoulder. For no apparent reason.
*sigh* but this evil baby is certainly something else. She had her nine-month well-child exam on 4/9... I had noticed recently (maybe I mentioned it in my last blog post? Can't remember) that she seemed to be a lot taller all of the sudden. And yep, I was right- she was in the 84th percentile for height. Eighty fourth. For those of you who know me in real life, you know that height is not something I ever excelled at. Spelling, yes. Being tall, no. And hubby is average height for a dude... I won't go into detail because my dad will pretend he's mad at me for saying my family is short... but my family is short. Now, clearly this doesn't mean that Emma will be a behemoth when she's an adult because I was reasonably tall for my age as a young child. I just stopped growing around... eighth grade? Ya.
She weighed in at 19.6 pounds (the .6 I believe is 6/10 of a pound, not six ounces) which is in the 61st percentile. So my short fat baby is now a tall kind-of-fat baby. I still have to take extra care to wash in between her folds and rolls in the bath so that they don't get cheesy, so I'm pretty sure she's still really fat, 61st percentile or not. And her head was in the 31st percentile, but it's still too big for her little body, as is typical for infants. Her head has always been on the small side, though, and I guess that's not a bad thing. As long as there's enough room for a big enough brain so she can be a doctor when she grows up...
I am so grateful that she has fallen into a fabulous schedule lately, especially with how (literally) insane my job has been over the last few months. My saving grace has been that Baby Bird has been sleeping entirely through the night for a while now. If I was still having to get up in the middle of the night, fix a bottle, change the baby, feed the baby, rock the baby, and put the baby back in bed again, I think someone would have had to Baker Act me by now. But her scheduled, which is subject to change with no notice, has been: wake up sometime between 7 and 8am, feed herself an 8oz bottle, playtime/ride to meet grandma or to Grammy and Pop's house, breakfast at about 9:30, 10:30- 4oz bottle and naptime. She usually wakes up around 12, then has lunch, plays, has a 4oz bottle and nap around 2:30. She sleeps until about 4:30 or 5, then another bottle and playtime. Dinner at 6:30 (if I'm home by then, which I rarely am these days), bath at 7:30, bed at 8. Repeat.
So mixed into that nice little schedule is a lot of shrieking, grumping, and babbling. I can't get over how crazy she is... she decided to try to see how loud she could scream today. I'm not even kidding- I watched her holding a plastic ring (from one of those stacking ring toys) in her Pack n Play and she started screaming at it like it had insulted her mother (which, it didn't). Then she started screaming louder. Then louder. And just when I thought she couldn't scream louder, she did. And then screamed even louder again. All at this poor red ring which I'm fairly certain did nothing to deserve that kind of verbal abuse.
I think my neighbors think we're abusing this poor child. We're not. But it probably sounds like we are.
For some reason, she still hates eating lunch and dinner. And I'm being completely serious and somewhat facetious at the same time when I say that trying to figure out how to properly feed my kid solid foods has been more difficult than when I took pre-calc in high school. There's no consistency in information on the web- some sights say to feed her 4tbsp of cereal AND a jar/tub of baby fruit/veggies per meal. Others say 1-2tbsp of each. Emma will gladly eat a whole container of yogurt or about 2tbsp of cereal and 1/2- 3/4 of a jar of fruit in the morning. Lunch time is a struggle and sometimes she doesn't want to eat anything you put in front of her. Same with dinner. Although this weekend, she did a little better and actually gobbled down her veal (I call it veal, but it's not. It's jarred beef baby food. Which equals baby beef. Which equals veal. The end.) and green beans for dinner two nights in a row. I couldn't get her to eat her green beans for lunch today, though. Hmph. For dessert tonight (she actually never gets dessert. That's not why she's fat. She's just fat because she's fat, and she's a baby) she had some apple cinnamon flavored baby puffs. I was worried that they were too big and she'd choke on them so I broke them into pieces and let her play with them. When the pieces are so small, she doesn't quite get the fact that she can put them in her mouth and eat them. Instead, she usually just picks them up and plays with them. But tonight, she figured it out and ate a piece all by herself. I gave her progressively larger pieces until I gave her a full sized puff, then held my breath in anticipation of her swallowing it whole and choking to death. But alas, she chewed the darned thing like a big girl and eagerly awaited the next one. So it would appear that my little crazy animal can start moving on to some big-kid food and table food instead of all of this pureed baby food nonsense. Of course, she'll still have plenty of that too. I have a pantry full of baby food now :)
I've been feeling very grateful this weekend. Aside from being exhausted, that is. We had a busy weekend of shopping... can I just say that I'm tired of spending money? I'm serious. After the down payment on the new house, we still had to buy a new washer, dryer, refrigerator, garage door opener, breakfast nook table/chairs, end table, rugs, shower curtains, door mats, ceiling fans, mini fence for the backyard for the dog, security system, and various bits and pieces of things here and there. Oh, and Emma is transitioning into her 12-month clothes, of which she doesn't have much. So I bought her a whole new wardrobe this weekend, and that was actually the fun part. Now she has a few drawers full of new clothes and I cannot wait until she wears each new outfit. Since we're only having one child, I'm so glad to have my girl. Shopping for girl clothes is insanely fun. It is a little bittersweet to start shopping in the toddler section of the stores now and to see that she can wear two-piece jammies at night now, because they sell those in 12m size. And that I can't find too many onesies in her size either, because most of the 12m stuff is separates, just like big-kid clothing.
So while I'm trying not to be broke, I'm soaking in my surroundings and being grateful for what I have. And whom I have. Specifically, a husband who cooks and does dishes every night. ;)
I've been reading over my old blog posts lately and it's an amazing reminder of how much things change in just a few months. Every time I find myself getting frustrated, I remember the days when Emma refused to nap in her crib or would be up every couple of hours every night and I think darnit, 90210. This really isn't that bad! Stop whining! I mean, jeez. I used to rock her and bounce her in my arms for what seemed like an eternity while she calmed down enough to sleep. Every. Night. Now, I feed her, rock her for a few minutes (depending on how drowsy she is and how difficult it is for me to let her go for the night), put her in her crib, and let her babble/kick/wiggle/clap herself to sleep.
My last saving grace- no teeth. I can't even begin to describe the stress I've been enduring at work lately. So add to my ever-growing list of things that would cause me to have a psychotic break: teething. Thank you, Emma, for not having any teeth yet. They can wait for a few more months, right? Please?!
Sunday, April 7, 2013
Well, Look at Those Big Blue Eyes
I can't come up with the words to adequately describe the last few weeks of my life. Hectic? Doesn't even begin to cover it. Stressful? Close, but no cigar. The week before Easter will live in infamy in my life for a long, long time. It'll be the litmus test of any horrible week I may experience during the rest of my career- "this week sucks so bad... oh, but wait. It's still not as bad as that week." I'll leave it at that. Just know that my job has been beyond anything I've ever experienced and my confidence is shaken. Not a comfortable feeling for this gal.
It's absolutely absurd how much changes in such a short period of time with a baby. Emma's development kind of plateaued for a while, with her managing to learn to roll from tummy to back (out of pure necessity and her incredible hatred of being on her tummy. She still has yet to roll from back to tummy because she has no desire to do so) and then being content with her life from that point forward. Until the worst week of my life came around, when she decided that mommy at least needed something good to happen. She started clapping on 3/26 and babbling on 3/29. And, of course, both of these things happened while daddy was home with the baby and mommy was at work :( but luckily daddy was kind enough to video tape her clapping and I got to hear her babbling while on the phone with hubby. This weekend, she learned how to make kissy sounds with her mouth. Next up: cartwheels.
So let me just say that there is nothing more adorable than a fat little baby blowing raspberries, clapping her fat little hands, saying "dadadadada" and making kissy sounds with her mouth all in the span of about two minutes. Seriously- there's nothing more adorable. I assure you. She keeps me entertained, that's for certain, and the really big new development is that she actually wants to entertain us and tries to interact with us as much as she can. Blow a raspberry at her, and she'll blow one right back at you. Make kissy sounds, get kissy sounds in return. She also tries to interact with her toys and the dog. She'll sit in the bathtub and babble at her rubber duckies, or lecture the dog as she walks by.
And she still squeals. Loudly. Usually with a toy in her mouth, and mostly just for the hell of it. It's just as cute as almost everything else she does, except for when you're sitting in a restaurant and you clearly cannot communicate to Emma that she needs to be quiet. Because she's a baby. She doesn't understand. Luckily said restaurant was just Steak n Shake, so there were children everywhere and the only person who seemed to care about my screaming baby was some lady at the table next to us who seemed to just be miserable with her life in general. Yep. I had my first "I don't care if you're bothered by my child. If you wanted a quiet meal, you should have gone to Olive Garden, lady" moment. I mean, really. Emma wasn't that loud, and she wasn't upset either. She was just so excited to be sitting up like a big girl at the table while surrounded by a whole bunch of people and noise. It was her contribution to the ambiance.
I bought one of those fancy shmancy shopping cart covers so we could start taking Emma shopping sans stroller. I picked out the fanciest shmanciest one I could find, with little pillows on either side of her for maximum support and comfort. Our first trip with the cart cover was to Big Lots (yay.) and I couldn't stop smiling at how excited Emma was to be able to look around the store and see everything. She was the same way at JoAnn Fabrics. And today, she and I went shopping with her Grammy (my stepmother-in-law) and I was so proud of my sweet little Baby Bird and how good she was. I think we spent about an hour and a half to two hours in the store today and she didn't grump a single time. She just played with her toys, ate my hands, and watched everything around her. She just loves being in a shopping cart. I just happen to love shopping. Except for clothes shopping. Bleh. (because I can never find anything that actually fits me)
So now that she's been making appearances in public more often lately, I've noticed that everyone says something about her eyes. I don't need to point out that she has big eyes. It's obvious from her pictures. But in real life, her eyes twinkle with curiosity and happiness and draw you right in. The first thing that people say is along the lines of "look at those big blue eyes!" or "you have such pretty eyes!" It's always the eyes. People did that to me as a kid- I had bright blue eyes when I was little that slowly turned to green (fun fact! Green is the most rare of the common eye colors) so everyone was constantly commenting on my eyes when I was young and occasionally as an adult. But Emma's eyes are not only a pretty color, but they're huge. And huge eyes on a baby is the darned cutest thing ever. Google Kewpie Dolls. That's my girl.
Sleep: ah, sleep. She's been sleeping for 11-12.5 hour stretches every night for about a month-ish now. Maybe longer? I can't remember exactly when it started because I was in denial for the first few weeks and thought she'd revert to night wakings on any given day, so I wasn't counting on it continuing. But it has... and I'm so grateful, especially with the kind of weeks I've had recently (I don't think I've worked less than 45 hours per week in the last month and a half). So at an actual age of about 7 months and an adjusted age of about 5 months, I think that's a pretty good routine to have. With no parent-led scheduling! Well... mostly. We've tried to have a somewhat consistent bedtime for her since she was about three months of age, but that never actually stayed too consistent. My schedule is pretty erratic and she spends time with two different sets of grandparents during the week... and there was also a time change thrown in there. So she's been going to bed anywhere between 7:30 and 9:30 over the last month or so. But her own little schedule has emerged, with a wake up time of 7:30am, nap around 10:30 or 11 (if she spends the day with grandparents because she'll nap in the car on the way so her morning nap is a little later than normal) and another nap at about 2:30. She's a champ now.
The thing that hasn't stayed very consistent is the method of getting her to sleep. For a few weeks, she was finally letting me rock her to sleep in her rocker, then I could gently put her in her crib and sneak away while she continued to sleep. Then, suddenly, she wouldn't let me rock her to sleep and I had to put her in her crib and let her kick/fuss/grunt/babble/clap/break dance herself to sleep for her naps and at bedtime. I usually like to sit in her nursery until she's asleep but she kept turning herself in her crib so she could look at me, then she'd try to entice me to pick her up by clapping her hands ("see mommy, I'm cute! Come play with me!"). When that didn't work, she'd squeal a few times, When that didn't work, she'd start to get angry and cry and yell at me. Solution? Put a blanket up on the end of the crib to block her view of me. That worked like a charm... until this afternoon, that is. There I sat, getting my Pinterest fix for the afternoon while sitting in the glider listening to Emma entertain herself in her crib. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement, and looked at her crib in time to see the blanket slowly being pulled into the crib by none other than Emma. I tugged back so the blanket didn't actually fall into the crib, and she tugged harder. Fine. No more blanket. I pulled it all the way off and put it on the floor, at which point Emma saw me and smiled and squealed. So I left the room so she could calm down and sleep... after some anger and fussing, she finally calmed down and took a nap. Sheesh! But tonight, she let me rock her to sleep again :)
So the only thing that's predictable about having a baby is that everything is unpredictable. Every. Single. Thing.
Food: Of course, my fat kid is a finicky eater. She'll gladly have a full bottle of formula, but she isn't always the biggest fan of eating solids. Breakfast is usually better than lunch and dinner, so I guess she takes after me in that way. I love breakfast. Anyways, sometimes she'll eat like she's starving, and other times she purses her lips from the first bite and refuses to eat anything. We had some jars of stage 2 1/2 carrots that were a little more lumpy than stage 2 carrots, but she gagged every time I tried to give her some, so she has remained on the stage 2 foods. Tonight, I decided to break up a rice rusk death cookie* into small pieces to see if she'd eat it. She preferred to just pick up the little pieces with her fingers and examine them (I can't get over how good she is with her hands. When her Grammy picks her up, she zeros in on Grammy's thin white gold necklace and grabs it with a pincer grasp like it's no big deal) and then drop them on the floor. I put a piece in her mouth, expecting her to immediately gag, but nope. She chewed it like it was a piece of bubble gum and smiled at me. I gave her more, and she gagged a little on the bigger pieces, but she chewed and ate them with few issues. I then mashed up some of the sweet potato I had on my plate for dinner and gave her that to play with and eat. Again- much different texture than pureed baby sweet potatoes, which is one of her favorite foods. She ate that like a champ, too. She gagged a few times on them also, but overall she did a fabulous job with her first introduction to non-pureed foods. Hooray fat kid!
*rice rusk death cookies. Ugh. Someone at work showed me some rice rusks that her granddaughter was eating. They're basically a crunchy wafer-like cookie (? biscuit? apparently that's why they're called a 'rusk'- they're not really a cookie, but not really a biscuit. Just a rusk.) for babies that dissolve relatively quickly in a baby's mouth. I remembered a friend giving them to their child in the past, so I thought, what the heck, she'll probably love them. And she did. Until I ripped the rusk from her little baby hands after she bit off a piece and almost choked on it. Like a good mom, I decided to give her the death cookie back one more time because certainly that was a fluke. And she bit off another chunk, causing my hand to go flying into her mouth to wrestle the rusk away from her esophagus before she died.
Ok, that was a bit of hyperbole there. But she did bite the rusk a couple of times and I had to get it all out of her mouth before she swallowed and choked and she did gag once or twice too, which is nothing new.
Things Emma likes:
blowing raspberries
bubbles
red Solo cups
standing up
TV
tags
pulling grass out of the ground
ripping paper towels
slapping mommy
clapping
Things Emma does not like:
diaper changes (it's like changing a baby kangaroo)
having a onesie pulled over her head
being put in her pack n play when she's tired
having her head washed in the bath
having her mouth wiped after eating
having anything on her head- a hat, headband. etc.
sippy cups
The End.
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Everyone is Still Breathing
The last time I checked, I'm still breathing. Whew. I really thought I wouldn't make it to see the other side of these last few weeks... this bumpy road is far from over but at least I'm moving forward. And there does seem to be a light at the end of the tunnel, but I'm not completely certain that it's not a train.
And it's not Emma causing all of this madness. No, no. That kid has been great lately (and THERE we go! Jinxed it. YES.) up until today, when she turned into a grump again. She's been sleeping through the night (11-12.5 hours straight) for a few weeks now. Jinxed that too. And she's fallen into a pretty decent routine during the day of naps and feeding, even at the in-laws' house.
The madness is from work and moving. UGH, God. Why in the world did I decide to move while I have an eight-month-old goober and a recent promotion? The good news is that eventually I'll be all unpacked and settled into this house and I'll have more than one worker on my team, so I can get rid of my ever-growing caseload and be a real supervisor. Eventually.
One year ago, I was pregnant, living in H-town, and working in B-ville as an adoptions case manager. Now, I'm a mommy, living in the S-to-the-H-town, and an adoptions supervisor in the West Pizzle. Crazy how things change so quickly...
I did realize that we had close to 2300 square feet worth of crap in a 1350ish square foot house. When we were in the process of moving, I envisioned this new house being really empty and bare and that we'd have lots of unused space and room to fill the house with more crap. Nope. Wrong. The new house is surprisingly full-ish and I can't figure out how we fit everything in the old house. The difference is that now, I can do cartwheels in my living room (and my closet too!) without destroying things and breaking bones. And Emma will have plenty of room to run around and cause a ruckus, when the time comes for her to run.
Ok, ok. Emma stuff:
TEMPER TANTRUMS. Omg, it has begun- this kid can go from happy to super angry in a flash if we walk away from her, put her down, or take away something she wants. Hooray. Yippee. The fun part of parenting... sometimes it's kind of cute, but you can't reason with an eight-month-old so it's mostly frustrating. What the heck do you do? I calmly tell her no and then smile to reassure her that everything is ok, but she doesn't understand and just continues to grump at me. Because she doesn't understand. Sometimes I just pick her up, but that's a bad habit I don't want to start. Ah, delicate balances. The other day, I tried to give her the sippy cup after her nap instead of her bottle, but she chewed on it a few times and decided that it was no bueno and began swatting it away with her hands and throwing a fit. I replaced the sippy spout with a bottle nipple and tried giving it to her again, but she was convinced it was a trick and that it was a sippy cup in disguise, because she swatted it away again, all the while grumping, yelling, crying, kicking, and flailing. It was really extreme. I finally managed to get the darned thing in her mouth and once she realized it was a nipple, everything in her little world turned to sunshine and rainbows and she happily took the bottle. Silly baby.
She can feed herself now :( That makes me sad because I enjoy sitting down and holding her while she makes those sweet little noises as she eats. But it's also great for the mornings when I'm trying to get ready to fly out the door (I'm becoming chronically late in the morning, more on that in a moment) because she can feed herself in her bouncy seat while I load up the car and attempt to guzzle some coffee so I don't crash my car on the way to work.
There are definitely some Murphy's Laws of parenting. Like, if I need to be somewhere to meet with my mom so she can watch the baby, or I need to be at a meeting/court/etc., the baby will poop just as I'm about to leave the house. And I can't leave her in a poopy diaper in the car, especially now that my drive to the in-laws' house is about 30 minutes and the drive to meet my mom is about 45, because the poor kid shouldn't be sitting in poo in a car seat for that long. Oh, and I also don't want my car to smell like a dumpster the whole way, either. But regardless, something will happen that will make me rush out the door at the last minute. And that something is usually some kind of bodily function (from the baby, of course).
SITTING. Finally! Hooray baby girl! She mastered rolling from tummy to back about a month ago and now has gone on to bigger and better things. It really didn't take her long to go from needing some support while sitting to needing no support at all. Just a pillow behind her in case she falls (thanks to Sherb, the genius who clearly has more parenting experience than I do. Because I figured she was doing fine sitting on her own and stood up from sitting behind her, only for her to fling herself backward and slam her head on the carpeted floor. Many tears ensued and I felt like a horrible mommy!). Today, she spent some quality time in her pack-n-play with some toys and sat all by herself and played like a big girl.
I realized something. I used to watch videos of people's kids that they posted on Facebook and I used to think that's cute and all, but it's just your kid sitting in a pack-n-play with some toys. Now I get it. Just a few short months ago, she was literally a blob of burping, farting, pooping, eating, crying baby that would stare at the ceiling and go cross-eyed at random times. Now, she's sitting. In a pack-n-play. Playing with toys. In my mind, this kid is Leonardo Da Vinci painting the Mona Lisa. In reality, she's a shreiking, smiling, wobbling little goober chewing on the hand of her Cat in the Hat stuffed animal. I love that little goober. And her big open-mouthed kisses.
Oh, and she can give high-fives. Without even looking. She's still a pro with her hands... so maybe she'll be the next Leonardo Da Vinci. I just hope she doesn't end up with a beard...
And it's not Emma causing all of this madness. No, no. That kid has been great lately (and THERE we go! Jinxed it. YES.) up until today, when she turned into a grump again. She's been sleeping through the night (11-12.5 hours straight) for a few weeks now. Jinxed that too. And she's fallen into a pretty decent routine during the day of naps and feeding, even at the in-laws' house.
The madness is from work and moving. UGH, God. Why in the world did I decide to move while I have an eight-month-old goober and a recent promotion? The good news is that eventually I'll be all unpacked and settled into this house and I'll have more than one worker on my team, so I can get rid of my ever-growing caseload and be a real supervisor. Eventually.
One year ago, I was pregnant, living in H-town, and working in B-ville as an adoptions case manager. Now, I'm a mommy, living in the S-to-the-H-town, and an adoptions supervisor in the West Pizzle. Crazy how things change so quickly...
I did realize that we had close to 2300 square feet worth of crap in a 1350ish square foot house. When we were in the process of moving, I envisioned this new house being really empty and bare and that we'd have lots of unused space and room to fill the house with more crap. Nope. Wrong. The new house is surprisingly full-ish and I can't figure out how we fit everything in the old house. The difference is that now, I can do cartwheels in my living room (and my closet too!) without destroying things and breaking bones. And Emma will have plenty of room to run around and cause a ruckus, when the time comes for her to run.
Ok, ok. Emma stuff:
TEMPER TANTRUMS. Omg, it has begun- this kid can go from happy to super angry in a flash if we walk away from her, put her down, or take away something she wants. Hooray. Yippee. The fun part of parenting... sometimes it's kind of cute, but you can't reason with an eight-month-old so it's mostly frustrating. What the heck do you do? I calmly tell her no and then smile to reassure her that everything is ok, but she doesn't understand and just continues to grump at me. Because she doesn't understand. Sometimes I just pick her up, but that's a bad habit I don't want to start. Ah, delicate balances. The other day, I tried to give her the sippy cup after her nap instead of her bottle, but she chewed on it a few times and decided that it was no bueno and began swatting it away with her hands and throwing a fit. I replaced the sippy spout with a bottle nipple and tried giving it to her again, but she was convinced it was a trick and that it was a sippy cup in disguise, because she swatted it away again, all the while grumping, yelling, crying, kicking, and flailing. It was really extreme. I finally managed to get the darned thing in her mouth and once she realized it was a nipple, everything in her little world turned to sunshine and rainbows and she happily took the bottle. Silly baby.
She can feed herself now :( That makes me sad because I enjoy sitting down and holding her while she makes those sweet little noises as she eats. But it's also great for the mornings when I'm trying to get ready to fly out the door (I'm becoming chronically late in the morning, more on that in a moment) because she can feed herself in her bouncy seat while I load up the car and attempt to guzzle some coffee so I don't crash my car on the way to work.
There are definitely some Murphy's Laws of parenting. Like, if I need to be somewhere to meet with my mom so she can watch the baby, or I need to be at a meeting/court/etc., the baby will poop just as I'm about to leave the house. And I can't leave her in a poopy diaper in the car, especially now that my drive to the in-laws' house is about 30 minutes and the drive to meet my mom is about 45, because the poor kid shouldn't be sitting in poo in a car seat for that long. Oh, and I also don't want my car to smell like a dumpster the whole way, either. But regardless, something will happen that will make me rush out the door at the last minute. And that something is usually some kind of bodily function (from the baby, of course).
SITTING. Finally! Hooray baby girl! She mastered rolling from tummy to back about a month ago and now has gone on to bigger and better things. It really didn't take her long to go from needing some support while sitting to needing no support at all. Just a pillow behind her in case she falls (thanks to Sherb, the genius who clearly has more parenting experience than I do. Because I figured she was doing fine sitting on her own and stood up from sitting behind her, only for her to fling herself backward and slam her head on the carpeted floor. Many tears ensued and I felt like a horrible mommy!). Today, she spent some quality time in her pack-n-play with some toys and sat all by herself and played like a big girl.
I realized something. I used to watch videos of people's kids that they posted on Facebook and I used to think that's cute and all, but it's just your kid sitting in a pack-n-play with some toys. Now I get it. Just a few short months ago, she was literally a blob of burping, farting, pooping, eating, crying baby that would stare at the ceiling and go cross-eyed at random times. Now, she's sitting. In a pack-n-play. Playing with toys. In my mind, this kid is Leonardo Da Vinci painting the Mona Lisa. In reality, she's a shreiking, smiling, wobbling little goober chewing on the hand of her Cat in the Hat stuffed animal. I love that little goober. And her big open-mouthed kisses.
Oh, and she can give high-fives. Without even looking. She's still a pro with her hands... so maybe she'll be the next Leonardo Da Vinci. I just hope she doesn't end up with a beard...
Saturday, March 2, 2013
Pictures. Small Pictures. But Pictures.
By the way I'm living my life right now, you'd think I'm a glutton for punishment or something. Teething baby. Moving. Promotion at work. *sigh*
At least the teething let up for about a week or two. Or maybe it's been longer than that? Time means nothing to me right now... but we have had a reprieve from the angry teething baby until today, when she decided to start grumping again and was chewing on anything she could get her slimy little hands on. And her slimy little mouth, which gave mommy and daddy some slimy little kisses today. I don't even care if she only gives open-mouth, baby-bird, super-drooly kisses... it's the cutest darned thing in the world.
So, all this teething and... not a tooth in sight. Her gums look maybe a little different now than they did a few months ago, but that's really grasping at straws. I seriously think her first tooth won't be making its appearance any time soon. Bah!
I've been reading some of my old blog posts and reminiscing on times past, which has greatly helped to put things in perspective for me this week. She's actually been doing very well lately, despite her ongoing issues with sleeping at her grandma and grandpa's house, which in turn causes a domino effect of bad bedtime, bad sleep, and early wakeup time. But other than that, she does great- she's usually in bed by 7:30 or 8, sound asleep in her crib with hardly a peep. And most nights she sleeps for a good 12 hours straight without waking for a bottle, which is, of course, always subject to change. She doesn't need a nighttime bottle anymore, but sometimes she wakes up and just can't get herself back to sleep without some help.
The few times she has woken up for a middle-of-the-night bottle recently have been because of Pampers Cruisers. Yep. Add that to the list of diapers that Emma can't wear. UGH. My mother-in-law bought a box of them when a local grocery store was going out of business and had everything on sale. They don't sell size 3 Swaddlers in the grocery stores around these parts, so the Cruisers were the next best thing. Well, apparently for my Baby Bird, Cruisers= nighttime pee pants. The Swaddlers can hold the biggest of all of the Emma pees without a problem. Ever. In fact, I don't think Emma has ever had a leak with her Swaddlers that I can recall... even when they've been poorly fastened. The Cruisers have a "three-way fit" and apparently none of those three ways actually fit Emma's little bottom. So she pees out the top back of the diaper in the middle of the night, which is a really exciting discovery (not) at 4:30am when I go to lift her out of her crib and am greeted by soaking wet pajamas and crib sheets. Because what I really want to do more than anything at 4:30am is change the crib sheet and give the baby a baby wipe bath (AKA a Hudson baby bath). Then feed her and beg her to go to sleep, because by that point she was completely wide awake and ready to party. Thank God for her swing. So her Cruisers are used during the day, and her Swaddlers at night because, well, if she wasn't spoiled enough already, she now has her day diapers and her night diapers. Next up, is her weekday Power Wheels and her weekend Power Wheels.
Speaking of Power Wheels. We're closing on our new home in 9 days... holy mother of God. There's so much left to do... pack, pack, pack, paint, pack, clean, paint, clean, unpack, unpack, unpack, reorganize, clean, unpack, pass out and die. We'll finally have a big garage (our current garage is more like a 1 1/2 car garage because we really wouldn't be able to comfortably fit both cars in it) so we can park both cars in it, PLUS the third garage bay, which is perfect for a little pink Barbie Power Wheels Cadillac. Duh.
As I was sitting here typing up this blog entry, Baby Bird start screaming bloody murder out of a nice, calm sleep. I jumped up and almost dropped my laptop on the ground in the process because this kid rarely cries. And when I say rarely, I mean I-can't-remember-the-last-time-she-really-cried kind of rarely. Actually, no. I do remember the last time she cried- it was when she had her shots at her six-month well-child appointment. She had a booster shot a couple of weeks ago but hubby took her to that appointment, but she obviously cried at that too. But otherwise, she'll grump when she's in pain or overtired, yell and fuss and scream (not cry though) when she's way overtired and doesn't want to sleep, grump/yell when she's hungry, or whine when she doesn't want to be put down or wants out of her crib when she's done napping. But she doesn't truly cry. So, yea. That startled me and I ran into her nursery and picked her up out of her crib. The poor thing looked at me and cried harder as I pulled her head onto my shoulder and calmed her down... sheesh. Usually she sees me and laughs, squeals, and smiles. So something was definitely amiss with my little miss. I'm still not certain what it was... she continued to cry a little and angrily grunt in my arms until she drifted to sleep again. I held her extra long to comfort her (ok, and me) and she tooted a few times. When I put her back in her crib, she woke up a little and started kicking and fussing like she sometimes does, but there were some angry grunts peppered in. And another toot or two. So maybe she has some gas that's bothering her? I know, I know... I don't subscribe to the whole "it's gas!" excuse that everyone uses anytime a baby is less than happy. But this could be the real deal, the elusive true gas pains. Or it could be heartburn. Or teething. Whatever it is, she's definitely in some pain tonight :(
We elected to discontinue her reflux medications at the end of January (oops, didn't tell her doctor. That may have been a good thing to do first...) for a few reasons. A few people had suggested that I have the pharmacy request an increased dosage since she's grown so much since her original script. At 17+ pounds, she was still on the same dose she was on when she was about 8 or 9 pounds. The doctor's office said the only reason to increase the dose would be if she was having more symptoms or getting worse, which she wasn't. In fact, she doesn't spit up like she used to and she's a generally happy baby. So I figured the medication probably wasn't doing anything for her anymore since it was such a low dose. And we were having to give her Colic Calm, Tylenol, or Motrin for her teething pain, so we skipped a few doses because she was really not feeling the whole medicine dropper thing after a while. The discontinuation of her reflux meds was accidental at first, but then we decided to just not give it to her anymore. She seems to be doing just fine.
My chubby little baby is starting to move along with her gross motor skills now. She rolls from tummy to back like she's been doing it all her life and is starting to sit on her own without support for short periods of time. She still face plants quite often, though and grumps afterwards. I can't help but laugh at that. At the rate she's going with her fine motor skills, she'll be a concert violinist at the age of three. The pincer grasp is now her grasp of choice and she loves to grab at tags with her little fingers all day long. She'll grab a stuffed animal and immediately turn it over and around until she finds the tag, and then proceeds to play with it. She usually doesn't even try to put it in her mouth; she just plays with it with her fingers. Put a toy in front of her, and she can reach right for it, grab it with one hand (depending on the toy), and pull it to her to inspect and decide if she wants to play with it. She doesn't even have to try hard anymore, her hands can do whatever she wants them to do without hesitation. Now she just has to work on getting her legs and the rest of her body to cooperate, and we'll be in good shape.
So here's my sad attempt at posting pictures. I'll include the link to my Flickr account that I created just so I could possibly post pictures on this blog. This is the best I could do for now... most of the pictures are from Christmas, but the first one is from her seventh month-day on February 9th. My, how she's grown!
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