She'll be fine.
I know this. I know she'll be fine. I know she is fine.
She had a UTI. A urinary tract infection. That was the illness, the temperature that approached 102, the vomiting. Not totally abnormal. Babies poop in their diapers. Sometimes the poop gets squished around, gets into places it's not supposed to be. She responded quickly, beautifully to the antibiotics. She's fine. She's healthy. She's perfect.
But a UTI in babies under a year old, though not abnormal, is not common. There are other things to think about, other possibilities that must be investigated and crossed off the list. We have to make sure that her anatomy is built correctly, that a valve between her bladder and her kidneys isn't letting anything go the wrong way.
So this morning I made an appointment for a sonogram at the children's hospital.
I know she's fine.
But I still had to make an appointment for my daughter at a children's hospital.
There are people at that hospital going through more than I can possibly comprehend. More than I want to imagine. More than I would ever want to put into words. I have a friend at that hospital right.now. for her son. Going through the worst of the worst. I almost chide myself when I feel the anxiety set in, when I feel my stress levels rise. What we are doing there is nothing compared to what almost everyone else is doing there. How dare I lose my perspective on that.
But still, still I am a mother. Still I am taking my baby to a hospital to get checked to make sure that she is built correctly. Perspective is a hard thing to keep when it's your baby's name on the medical file. When it's your baby on the table. I don't want those doctors looking at my baby. I don't want them spending their talent, their attention on her. I want her home, playing, jabbering, crawling, pointing, emptying our tupperware cabinet, eating random pieces of litter she finds on the floor. I want them focusing on the kids who really need their help. I don't want that kid to be my kid.
So my fight today is to reign myself in. To keep my perspective. She's totally fine. I know that. Deep down I really do know that. This is precautionary. And she'll handle it, like she handles everything else, like a champ.
36 hours from now it will be behind us.
36 days from now it will be a vague memory.
36 weeks from now it will simply be another blip on the radar screen of her first year.
36 years from now, for all intents and purposes, it may as well have not even happened.
I know.
I know.
I know.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Friday, July 16, 2010
Satisfaction
As mentioned in the 10-month update, TH has taught baby girl to go "AH!" after drinking from her sippy cup. She also does it after eating every bite. A throaty, loud, wide-mouth, twinkle-eyed "AHHH!" of deep satisfaction.
As of this morning, she now does it after nursing as well.
I don't know if I should be embarrassed or flattered.
As of this morning, she now does it after nursing as well.
I don't know if I should be embarrassed or flattered.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
10 months
Dear Baby Girl,
Today you are 10 months old. I have a 10-month-old.
Not an infant. A baby. An almost-not-a-baby-anymore who is on the brink of being on the cusp of toddlerdom. In eight short weeks, I'll have a . . . nope. Not gonna go there yet. I'm staying focused on the here and now. On today. On today's 10-month-old.
The last month has been a blur. A blur of stressful work, a blur of your daddy being gone for two weeks and me learning how to do it all on my own. A blur of your first illness. A blur. And Somewhere in there, so many smiles and kisses and hugs and laughs. So many games. So many still moments of gratitude and fantastic love.
Every day you become more and more like a kid, less and less like a baby. You are a pro at crawling on your hands and knees now, and you are so speedy when you want to be! The funniest part is when you hit your "high speed," you squeal with the exertion of going so fast . . . or maybe you squeal with excitement at how fast you are going. Either way, it's like your voice is connected to your speed, and we can always tell when you move it into high gear. You love playing follow-the-leader (or chase, depending on who is following whom). If you are in front and we're "chasing" you, you crawl as fast as you can and then stop and look back at us, as if gauging how far behind we are and whether you have enough time and space to make a get away. If we are leading, you follow us diligently around the living room, right on our heels, cackling with glee the entire time, as if seeing us move on our hands and knees like you rather than standing up on two feet is the funniest thing you've ever seen. You are pulling up on furniture now--the coffee table, the couch, the dishwasher door, the chairs in the kitchen. You know what you want, and no matter where it is, you can get to it! You are also learning about drawers (and have smashed your little fingers in a couple of them already), and you are a pro at helping us turn on and off the light switches around the house.
Your favorite game these days is the mimic game. Whatever noise your dad or I make, you love to mimic right back to us, with a twinkle in your eye and a wide smile on your lips. Your favorite sound is the "AH!" sound your dad makes after drinking something . . . only you love to do it not only after drinking but after every bite, too! You have learned to initiate games--you'll make a noise and expect us to mimic you. You'll hide behind something and then pop out with a smile, expecting a happy "peek-a-boo!" One of your favorite games is the "pass the toy" game. You'll hand me a toy, and then point to dad, instructing me to hand it to him. Then you'll hold your hand out, demanding that it be given to you. Then you hand it right back to me. If we go out of order, you shake your hands and then point again, as if telling us, "No, no, no! Get it right!!" Speaking of pointing, you pretty much point to whatever you want these days. Want water? You point to your sippy. Want to go somewhere? You point which direction you want me to take you. You even point at the pictures on the wall that you want a closer look at. It's SO wonderful being able to communicate with you and easily find out what you want! You are also starting to be able to point to things I ask you about. I can ask you where your bear is and you point to him. Then I ask you where the bear's nose is, and you grab it! (We are still working on where Ali's nose and Mommy's nose are.) I love, love, love watching you learn new things, grasp new concepts, and gain new abilities.
You, as always, are talking up a storm. You have moved from babbling to jabbering, from the same syllable repeated again and again to your own unique little language. You talk to yourself with the lilting flow of adult language. You chuckle at your own jokes. You raise and lower your volume depending on if you are talking to me or your daddy or to yourself. If you are talking to yourself, you mutter under your breath or whisper while your busy little hands work on figuring out how something works. If you are talking to someone else, you jabber on and on and on, your volume changing with the natural cadence of language, and then you pause as if waiting for us to respond. We love having whole conversations with you! Your two favorite words right now are "dirka" and "tokai." I think you must like the way they feel in your mouth when you say them, because you will sit there and say "dirka dirka dirka dirka" or "tokai tokai tokai tokai" on and on and on! It's is absolutely the most adorable thing I've ever heard.
Your dad went on his first two-week business trip since you've been born this month, leaving you and me at home to hold down the fort. I loved our time together . . . I didn't have to share you with anybody in the short time we get together in the evenings! It was such a treat! You were a little shy around your dad when he came back home, but that is understandable--two weeks is a pretty significant percentage of your life so far! You warmed back up to him quickly though--you two are such good friends, I knew you wouldn't stay shy for long. No one can make you laugh like your daddy! (He has the same effect on me!)
This month also held another first--not a fun one but one that I knew had to arrive sooner or later: your first illness. You've had mild colds and runny noses before, but you've never had a fever. One night last week you threw up in your crib in the middle of the night. You didn't cry, but your dad and I could see you sitting up in the video monitor. Because you weren't crying, we didn't know anything was wrong; we figured you were just trying to get comfortable. By the time your dad went in to check on you, it had been almost an hour that you were sitting there. Poor baby!! I felt so bad that you had to try and sleep sitting up. Already you are such a strong, determined woman. I am amazed by your calmness and deal-with-it-ness already . . . and you are only 10 months old! I cannot wait to see what an amazing woman you turn into as you grow. (Just remember that sometimes it's okay to cry for me!) We took you to the doctor the next day and you were put on antibiotics. Luckily your fever only stuck around for one day, and soon thereafter you were back to your old ways, smiling, laughing, playing, and just generally being the most adorable, happiest little girl ever. Thank goodness!!
You are the absolute joy and light of my life. Every night, when I kiss you goodnight, I make sure to stop for just a second and appreciate you, appreciate the time we spent together. And every night my soul shines with happiness when I do.
Happy 10 months, Munchkin.
With love forever and ever and ever,
Mom
Today you are 10 months old. I have a 10-month-old.
Not an infant. A baby. An almost-not-a-baby-anymore who is on the brink of being on the cusp of toddlerdom. In eight short weeks, I'll have a . . . nope. Not gonna go there yet. I'm staying focused on the here and now. On today. On today's 10-month-old.
The last month has been a blur. A blur of stressful work, a blur of your daddy being gone for two weeks and me learning how to do it all on my own. A blur of your first illness. A blur. And Somewhere in there, so many smiles and kisses and hugs and laughs. So many games. So many still moments of gratitude and fantastic love.
Every day you become more and more like a kid, less and less like a baby. You are a pro at crawling on your hands and knees now, and you are so speedy when you want to be! The funniest part is when you hit your "high speed," you squeal with the exertion of going so fast . . . or maybe you squeal with excitement at how fast you are going. Either way, it's like your voice is connected to your speed, and we can always tell when you move it into high gear. You love playing follow-the-leader (or chase, depending on who is following whom). If you are in front and we're "chasing" you, you crawl as fast as you can and then stop and look back at us, as if gauging how far behind we are and whether you have enough time and space to make a get away. If we are leading, you follow us diligently around the living room, right on our heels, cackling with glee the entire time, as if seeing us move on our hands and knees like you rather than standing up on two feet is the funniest thing you've ever seen. You are pulling up on furniture now--the coffee table, the couch, the dishwasher door, the chairs in the kitchen. You know what you want, and no matter where it is, you can get to it! You are also learning about drawers (and have smashed your little fingers in a couple of them already), and you are a pro at helping us turn on and off the light switches around the house.
Your favorite game these days is the mimic game. Whatever noise your dad or I make, you love to mimic right back to us, with a twinkle in your eye and a wide smile on your lips. Your favorite sound is the "AH!" sound your dad makes after drinking something . . . only you love to do it not only after drinking but after every bite, too! You have learned to initiate games--you'll make a noise and expect us to mimic you. You'll hide behind something and then pop out with a smile, expecting a happy "peek-a-boo!" One of your favorite games is the "pass the toy" game. You'll hand me a toy, and then point to dad, instructing me to hand it to him. Then you'll hold your hand out, demanding that it be given to you. Then you hand it right back to me. If we go out of order, you shake your hands and then point again, as if telling us, "No, no, no! Get it right!!" Speaking of pointing, you pretty much point to whatever you want these days. Want water? You point to your sippy. Want to go somewhere? You point which direction you want me to take you. You even point at the pictures on the wall that you want a closer look at. It's SO wonderful being able to communicate with you and easily find out what you want! You are also starting to be able to point to things I ask you about. I can ask you where your bear is and you point to him. Then I ask you where the bear's nose is, and you grab it! (We are still working on where Ali's nose and Mommy's nose are.) I love, love, love watching you learn new things, grasp new concepts, and gain new abilities.
You, as always, are talking up a storm. You have moved from babbling to jabbering, from the same syllable repeated again and again to your own unique little language. You talk to yourself with the lilting flow of adult language. You chuckle at your own jokes. You raise and lower your volume depending on if you are talking to me or your daddy or to yourself. If you are talking to yourself, you mutter under your breath or whisper while your busy little hands work on figuring out how something works. If you are talking to someone else, you jabber on and on and on, your volume changing with the natural cadence of language, and then you pause as if waiting for us to respond. We love having whole conversations with you! Your two favorite words right now are "dirka" and "tokai." I think you must like the way they feel in your mouth when you say them, because you will sit there and say "dirka dirka dirka dirka" or "tokai tokai tokai tokai" on and on and on! It's is absolutely the most adorable thing I've ever heard.
Your dad went on his first two-week business trip since you've been born this month, leaving you and me at home to hold down the fort. I loved our time together . . . I didn't have to share you with anybody in the short time we get together in the evenings! It was such a treat! You were a little shy around your dad when he came back home, but that is understandable--two weeks is a pretty significant percentage of your life so far! You warmed back up to him quickly though--you two are such good friends, I knew you wouldn't stay shy for long. No one can make you laugh like your daddy! (He has the same effect on me!)
This month also held another first--not a fun one but one that I knew had to arrive sooner or later: your first illness. You've had mild colds and runny noses before, but you've never had a fever. One night last week you threw up in your crib in the middle of the night. You didn't cry, but your dad and I could see you sitting up in the video monitor. Because you weren't crying, we didn't know anything was wrong; we figured you were just trying to get comfortable. By the time your dad went in to check on you, it had been almost an hour that you were sitting there. Poor baby!! I felt so bad that you had to try and sleep sitting up. Already you are such a strong, determined woman. I am amazed by your calmness and deal-with-it-ness already . . . and you are only 10 months old! I cannot wait to see what an amazing woman you turn into as you grow. (Just remember that sometimes it's okay to cry for me!) We took you to the doctor the next day and you were put on antibiotics. Luckily your fever only stuck around for one day, and soon thereafter you were back to your old ways, smiling, laughing, playing, and just generally being the most adorable, happiest little girl ever. Thank goodness!!
You are the absolute joy and light of my life. Every night, when I kiss you goodnight, I make sure to stop for just a second and appreciate you, appreciate the time we spent together. And every night my soul shines with happiness when I do.
Happy 10 months, Munchkin.
With love forever and ever and ever,
Mom
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
When In Doubt, Check It Out
Also titled: Ali's First Illness
Also titled: Heartbreak
Also titled: I Feel Like the Worst Mom Ever
We have a video monitor. When baby girl was still itty bitty, we had it in the actual crib with her. I fell asleep every night (after 3 months, when she moved to her room) looking at her sweet sleeping form and smiling. Then she started rolling around her crib, so we hung the monitor from the side of her crib. Then she started crawling . . . and she thought the monitor was a cool toy to play with when she woke up from her nap. So we moved the monitor to a high shelf across the room. It's new location gives us a bird's eye view of her crib, but it's too far away to allow us to really see what she's doing. Especially at night. At night we can see the fuzzy white bars of her crib against the dark backdrop of the walls, but that's about it. But we knew that we'd be able to hear her if she cried for us. We (okay . . . I) tried to reconcile myself to the mostly audio function of our monitor now. I told myself I was spoiled to have had the luxury of the video function for so long, giving me an up-close-and-personal view of baby girl's slumber. I told myself if she needed me, she would cry for me.
Last night, before going to sleep, I looked in the monitor, as I do every night, as I have done every night for the last six months. I know I can't see her, but still I try, squinting my eyes against the grainy night-vision picture to see if I can catch even the hint of her tiny form. Last night, when I looked, I didn't have to squint too hard. A dark splotch obscured the white bars of the back of her crib. Her head. She was sitting up. As I watched, she laid back down again. I smiled to myself. Silly girl. It's what she's been doing for naps for the last week or so. She'll sit up when we put her down for her nap, and then move around the crib, laying herself down in whatever she deems is the most comfortable position or spot. Like a cat. I closed my eyes.
Ten minutes later, I heard her moving around again and took another look. The dark circle. Her head. Moved to the corner of her crib. Sitting up. I showed TH. He watched her. She was laying down and sitting back up again. And again. And again. I felt a twinge of uncertainty. This was certainly not something we had seen before. She is a great sleeper. Why isn't she sleeping? TH and I watched her and tried to rationalize away our concerns. If she needed us, she'd be crying. Maybe she did this all the time and we had just never seen it happening. Lots of people don't have video monitors. They would never know this was going on. They would only hear the same silence we were hearing and would believe everything to be fine. TH told me to go to sleep. He took the monitor into the living room with him.
An hour later, I heard her again. Crying weakly, tiredly. In the living room. As I was getting out of bed, TH opened the door to our room, holding her. "I need your help," he said. She had thrown up. Everywhere. All over her bed, all over herself. She had thrown up and had scooted herself into the corner of her crib so that she could sleep while sitting up, supported in the corner, leaning against the sides of the crib. So that she wouldn't have to lay in her own vomit. That was what we saw. When she was lying down and then sitting back up. She was trying to lay down, but would lay in vomit, and so she'd sit back up.
For over an hour she slept, or attempted to sleep, while sitting up in her crib. And she never cried.
There are really no words for how heartbroken I felt last night, when I realized what she had been through. I cried. I am even crying as I type this now, in the light of day. What an awful experience for her. What was it that kept her from crying out for us? Bravery? Stoicism? Exhaustion? Indifference? We've never done any sleep training. There was never been a single instance where she has cried at night and we have let her, without responding. Why didn't she cry? As I wiped the crusted, dried vomit from her hair, her cheek, as TH changed her crib sheets and mattress pad, I whispered to her through my own tears that she should always, always cry for me. If she needs me, she should call me and I will always come to her. I wish she could understand that. But she just cuddled with me, nuzzled into my neck while I wiped her sickness away. Her little body was shaking slightly, exhausted from sitting up for so long.
I held her for an hour. I nursed her. I rocked her. TH moved the video monitor to a table right next to her crib so that I could see exactly what she was doing from then on. When I put her down to go back to sleep, she protested weakly, and then sat up. As I watched in the monitor, she stayed sitting up, her eyes dropping closed again and again. She didn't want to lay down. She thought it was still dirty. Still covered in vomit. She thought she had to stay sitting up still.
I went back in to her and gently laid her down. She cried. I calmed her, patting her tummy and shushing her. I watched her hands drop gradually to rest on the mattress. I watched her small body finally, finally relax. I stood there with her for another 10 minutes. Every few minutes she would open her eyes, see me there with her, and then drop back to sleep, a bit more secure, a bit more relaxed. She slept.
I cried myself to sleep. I've never known a worse feeling than what I felt last night, what I continue to feel today. As a mother, knowing that your baby was sick, confused, exhausted, struggling to sleep while sitting up so that she wouldn't have to lay in her own vomit. I've never felt worse. Of course I am second guessing every glance in the monitor, every part of the conversation TH and I had about why she was sitting up. I should not have tried to rationalize away my concern. I should have gone in to check on her earlier. So much earlier.
I always here from other moms that your baby will let you know what they need. They'll cry if they're hungry, or tired, or if something is wrong. Blah blah blah. Ali never cried when she was hungry as an infant. We had to feed her on schedule because she would never get fussy, even if it had been hours since she'd eaten. As she's aged, I feel like I let my guard down a bit, like I've allowed myself to fall a bit into the "she'll cry if she needs something" mindset. But I should have known better. I don't have a crier. I have a soldier. I have a baby who doesn't cry when she's hungry. I have a baby who doesn't cry when she's tired. I have a baby who doesn't cry when she's thrown up in the middle of the night. In a way that makes my job so much harder. I have to listen so much more closely to my instincts. I have to make sure that she's eating enough, that she's sleeping enough, and that nothing is wrong when I notice her doing something out of the ordinary.
She awoke this morning with a fever. Her first ever. I am staying home with her. And I think I've decided that she may not leave my arms today. At all. Penance for a mom who didn't come when her daughter needed her. Therapy for that same mom's feelings of guilt.
Also titled: Heartbreak
Also titled: I Feel Like the Worst Mom Ever
We have a video monitor. When baby girl was still itty bitty, we had it in the actual crib with her. I fell asleep every night (after 3 months, when she moved to her room) looking at her sweet sleeping form and smiling. Then she started rolling around her crib, so we hung the monitor from the side of her crib. Then she started crawling . . . and she thought the monitor was a cool toy to play with when she woke up from her nap. So we moved the monitor to a high shelf across the room. It's new location gives us a bird's eye view of her crib, but it's too far away to allow us to really see what she's doing. Especially at night. At night we can see the fuzzy white bars of her crib against the dark backdrop of the walls, but that's about it. But we knew that we'd be able to hear her if she cried for us. We (okay . . . I) tried to reconcile myself to the mostly audio function of our monitor now. I told myself I was spoiled to have had the luxury of the video function for so long, giving me an up-close-and-personal view of baby girl's slumber. I told myself if she needed me, she would cry for me.
Last night, before going to sleep, I looked in the monitor, as I do every night, as I have done every night for the last six months. I know I can't see her, but still I try, squinting my eyes against the grainy night-vision picture to see if I can catch even the hint of her tiny form. Last night, when I looked, I didn't have to squint too hard. A dark splotch obscured the white bars of the back of her crib. Her head. She was sitting up. As I watched, she laid back down again. I smiled to myself. Silly girl. It's what she's been doing for naps for the last week or so. She'll sit up when we put her down for her nap, and then move around the crib, laying herself down in whatever she deems is the most comfortable position or spot. Like a cat. I closed my eyes.
Ten minutes later, I heard her moving around again and took another look. The dark circle. Her head. Moved to the corner of her crib. Sitting up. I showed TH. He watched her. She was laying down and sitting back up again. And again. And again. I felt a twinge of uncertainty. This was certainly not something we had seen before. She is a great sleeper. Why isn't she sleeping? TH and I watched her and tried to rationalize away our concerns. If she needed us, she'd be crying. Maybe she did this all the time and we had just never seen it happening. Lots of people don't have video monitors. They would never know this was going on. They would only hear the same silence we were hearing and would believe everything to be fine. TH told me to go to sleep. He took the monitor into the living room with him.
An hour later, I heard her again. Crying weakly, tiredly. In the living room. As I was getting out of bed, TH opened the door to our room, holding her. "I need your help," he said. She had thrown up. Everywhere. All over her bed, all over herself. She had thrown up and had scooted herself into the corner of her crib so that she could sleep while sitting up, supported in the corner, leaning against the sides of the crib. So that she wouldn't have to lay in her own vomit. That was what we saw. When she was lying down and then sitting back up. She was trying to lay down, but would lay in vomit, and so she'd sit back up.
For over an hour she slept, or attempted to sleep, while sitting up in her crib. And she never cried.
There are really no words for how heartbroken I felt last night, when I realized what she had been through. I cried. I am even crying as I type this now, in the light of day. What an awful experience for her. What was it that kept her from crying out for us? Bravery? Stoicism? Exhaustion? Indifference? We've never done any sleep training. There was never been a single instance where she has cried at night and we have let her, without responding. Why didn't she cry? As I wiped the crusted, dried vomit from her hair, her cheek, as TH changed her crib sheets and mattress pad, I whispered to her through my own tears that she should always, always cry for me. If she needs me, she should call me and I will always come to her. I wish she could understand that. But she just cuddled with me, nuzzled into my neck while I wiped her sickness away. Her little body was shaking slightly, exhausted from sitting up for so long.
I held her for an hour. I nursed her. I rocked her. TH moved the video monitor to a table right next to her crib so that I could see exactly what she was doing from then on. When I put her down to go back to sleep, she protested weakly, and then sat up. As I watched in the monitor, she stayed sitting up, her eyes dropping closed again and again. She didn't want to lay down. She thought it was still dirty. Still covered in vomit. She thought she had to stay sitting up still.
I went back in to her and gently laid her down. She cried. I calmed her, patting her tummy and shushing her. I watched her hands drop gradually to rest on the mattress. I watched her small body finally, finally relax. I stood there with her for another 10 minutes. Every few minutes she would open her eyes, see me there with her, and then drop back to sleep, a bit more secure, a bit more relaxed. She slept.
I cried myself to sleep. I've never known a worse feeling than what I felt last night, what I continue to feel today. As a mother, knowing that your baby was sick, confused, exhausted, struggling to sleep while sitting up so that she wouldn't have to lay in her own vomit. I've never felt worse. Of course I am second guessing every glance in the monitor, every part of the conversation TH and I had about why she was sitting up. I should not have tried to rationalize away my concern. I should have gone in to check on her earlier. So much earlier.
I always here from other moms that your baby will let you know what they need. They'll cry if they're hungry, or tired, or if something is wrong. Blah blah blah. Ali never cried when she was hungry as an infant. We had to feed her on schedule because she would never get fussy, even if it had been hours since she'd eaten. As she's aged, I feel like I let my guard down a bit, like I've allowed myself to fall a bit into the "she'll cry if she needs something" mindset. But I should have known better. I don't have a crier. I have a soldier. I have a baby who doesn't cry when she's hungry. I have a baby who doesn't cry when she's tired. I have a baby who doesn't cry when she's thrown up in the middle of the night. In a way that makes my job so much harder. I have to listen so much more closely to my instincts. I have to make sure that she's eating enough, that she's sleeping enough, and that nothing is wrong when I notice her doing something out of the ordinary.
She awoke this morning with a fever. Her first ever. I am staying home with her. And I think I've decided that she may not leave my arms today. At all. Penance for a mom who didn't come when her daughter needed her. Therapy for that same mom's feelings of guilt.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Sometimes It's Nice to Not be Needed
TH just returned from a 2-week business trip to Europe. Two weeks. Two weeks of single-handedly trying to run what we lovingly refer to as our "two-person lifestyle." Two weeks of getting baby girl up and out the door on time, a deceptively simple description that actually involves feeding cats, pulling together pump parts, thawing and bottling milk, getting her lunch and snacks ready to go, getting my own breakfast, lunch, and snacks ready to go, showering, putting together an outfit that makes me look like a reasonably sane, well-put-together professional, waking up baby girl, feeding the cats again, feeding baby girl breakfast, getting her dressed, (taking out the trash if it's trash day), loading up the car with my lunch, her diaper bag, the pump, my purse, and getting us both out the door . . . on time. That does not include the things I do the night before to prep for the morning. The evenings were similarly scheduled, but with washing dirty dishes from the day and making us both dinner and watering the lawn and cleaning out the litter box and doing laundry. In short, pretty much every minute of the day, from when I woke at 5:45 a.m. to when I crashed at 10 p.m. was full of keeping the wheels of our lives running smoothly.
I thought I'd hate it. I thought I'd be miserable missing my husband, feeling overwhelmed with all the tasks at hand. I scheduled for my parents to come and spend the weekend with me, and for my mom to stay another three days into the week, a preemptive move designed to save my sanity.
But then a funny thing happened. When baby girl was asleep for the night and I had run through all the chores I had to take care of, I would stop and look around and realize that I had, for the first time in nine-and-a-half months, some real, honest-to-God free time. As in, no one needed anything from me. No one was around. No one was talking to me. I had taken care of all of my responsibilities and the only thing left (for the 30-45 minutes left in the day) was to do whatever I wanted to do.
And it was nice.
You see, TH is actually pretty great about giving me some "me time." But even then, I feel a twinge or two of guilt for choosing working out or blogging or losing myself into a TV coma over spending time with him. Our lives are so busy, there are only small windows for us to find time to reconnect with each other. And we make it a point to take advantage of those times as much as possible. And that's a good thing. I don't regret that one bit. I don't enjoy choosing myself over my husband. That's not relaxing to me. What IS relaxing is not having to make that choice. Relaxing is finding yourself alone in your house with the freedom to do whatever you want for the time you have. In fact, it was so relaxing having that time that I actually was a little bummed when my parents arrived to "save my sanity"--it meant I had other people to interact with and reconnect with and entertain and talk to.
And now that my husband is back, as nice as my novel alone time was, I'm infinitely happier with him here. No matter how nice it is to have silence and the freedom to be alone with my thoughts, it's nicer still to have someone home who knows me, who knows about the trials and tribulations I face during the day, who is concerned about me, who I can vent to and who agrees with everything I say. It's nice to have my support back.
But for that time he was gone, the time my parents hadn't come yet to save me, the time I actually spent all by myself, tackling our two-person life head-on . . . for those six days, it was surprisingly nice to not be needed.
I thought I'd hate it. I thought I'd be miserable missing my husband, feeling overwhelmed with all the tasks at hand. I scheduled for my parents to come and spend the weekend with me, and for my mom to stay another three days into the week, a preemptive move designed to save my sanity.
But then a funny thing happened. When baby girl was asleep for the night and I had run through all the chores I had to take care of, I would stop and look around and realize that I had, for the first time in nine-and-a-half months, some real, honest-to-God free time. As in, no one needed anything from me. No one was around. No one was talking to me. I had taken care of all of my responsibilities and the only thing left (for the 30-45 minutes left in the day) was to do whatever I wanted to do.
And it was nice.
You see, TH is actually pretty great about giving me some "me time." But even then, I feel a twinge or two of guilt for choosing working out or blogging or losing myself into a TV coma over spending time with him. Our lives are so busy, there are only small windows for us to find time to reconnect with each other. And we make it a point to take advantage of those times as much as possible. And that's a good thing. I don't regret that one bit. I don't enjoy choosing myself over my husband. That's not relaxing to me. What IS relaxing is not having to make that choice. Relaxing is finding yourself alone in your house with the freedom to do whatever you want for the time you have. In fact, it was so relaxing having that time that I actually was a little bummed when my parents arrived to "save my sanity"--it meant I had other people to interact with and reconnect with and entertain and talk to.
And now that my husband is back, as nice as my novel alone time was, I'm infinitely happier with him here. No matter how nice it is to have silence and the freedom to be alone with my thoughts, it's nicer still to have someone home who knows me, who knows about the trials and tribulations I face during the day, who is concerned about me, who I can vent to and who agrees with everything I say. It's nice to have my support back.
But for that time he was gone, the time my parents hadn't come yet to save me, the time I actually spent all by myself, tackling our two-person life head-on . . . for those six days, it was surprisingly nice to not be needed.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
9 months
Today, baby girl, you are NINE. MONTHS. OLD.
Wow. Just rolling that age around in my mouth and mind feels weighty. Apparently you were quite impressed with it this morning as well, for as we sat together petting the kitties good morning, I turned to you and told you excitedly, "Ali! You are nine months old today!" and your eyes grew big and round, your mouth broke into a smile, and you started clapping! Seriously. That actually happened. Why should I even be surprised anymore when you are perfect and adorable??
What an fantastic month it's been. You are learning and growing and changing at light speed now, and it has been so amazing to witness it all. We'll start off with the biggest and best: you're mobile!! After months of being perfectly content to sit and play with whatever has been within reach, you finally decided that you wanted more. The first step was you learning how to go from sitting down onto your belly (without crashing face-first to the floor). Once you had that maneuver down, you started figuring out how to get where you wanted to go. Your first mode of transportation was what I call "inch-worm-wiggle-scooching." You kind of just . . . well . . . inch-wormed your way toward your goal, usually in a bit of a sideways direction, kind of like a sand crab or sidewinder snake. It was only a couple of days before you figured out the true "forward" direction, and now you're unstoppable! You haven't really figured out true crawling up on your hands and knees, so you do what is called creeping or army crawling. You pull with your arms and push with your feet, but you stay down on your stomach. You can get over, under, around, and through things, though! You are one determined little lady! And when there is something across the room that you REALLY want, you get there fast and make determined little grunts of effort with every push/pull. A-DORABLE. Your favorite is to crawl into or through spaces . . . you like to crawl into bookshelves and under cribs at school, and one of your favorite games at home is for us to make a fort with the couch cushions and to crawl around and through them.
In other physical developments this month, you have also learned how to go from laying on your stomach to sitting up! You did this one time when you were about 7.5 months old, but seemed to have forgotten how. Seeing as how you are spending a lot of time on your tummy now what with your mobility and all, and you were getting pretty frustrated that you would finally get where you were trying to go, and then be stuck on your stomach when what you really wanted to do was sit up and play with whatever toy you had worked your way over to! Then last Friday it just "clicked." You sat up five or six times at school and you've been doing it ever since. You are a much happier baby now that you can pretty much get down, move, and get back up to sitting whenever you want. It was pretty funny the other morning to look at you on the baby monitor and see you sitting up in your crib, playing with the mesh bumper! You daddy lowered the crib that very same day. What a big girl you are!
You are also clapping anytime you hear anyone say "Yay!!!" So we say "Yay!!!" a lot because the truth is that baby clapping is awesome. You get the biggest smile on your face every time you clap. And you're pointing, too! You point to people, you point to toys, you point which direction in the house you want to go when I'm carrying you. You are also starting to share with others; when you have a toy or piece of food, you hold it out to me or your daddy, as if inviting us to enjoy it as well. Then we give it back and you hold it out to the other. We do that back and forth, taking turns with your toys, until you decide you'd like to keep it and stick it straight into your mouth.
You wave hello and bye-bye any time you hear those words, with your wave varying between facing you, facing out, and a close-fisted wave that looks like you're revving a motorcycle engine. Most days when I pick you up from school, you rush over to me, and the second you are in my arms, you turn to your teachers and wave "bye bye" to them. It makes us all laugh and makes my heart burst. The sign for "all done" also involves a version of waving hands, and you are just now starting to wave "bye bye" when you are done eating--your way of telling us that you're all done! Such a smart little cookie you are. The sign for "more" involves bringing your hands together, and we're just starting to see the beginning of that, even though it usually turns into clapping. That's close enough to get across your meaning, though!
You are starting to build things and stack things and put things inside other things rather than just being "Ali the Destructor" where all you were interested in was knocking down and dumping out. Last night we were playing with emptying and then filling a bowl, when suddenly you dumped everything out and put the bowl on your head! You then looked at me with your trademark grin, and I couldn't help but laugh. Such a funny girl you are. Speaking of funny, you have also started cracking yourself up! You laugh at pretty much everything now: peek-a-boo and getting tossed in the air and people popping out from behind walls. But you are also starting to laugh at stuff that you do, including when you tell yourself jokes. I'm serious. Many times when we are headed somewhere in the car, you will sit in the backseat and jabber on and on to yourself in your own little language. Every few minutes you will punctuate your monologue with a giggle or chuckle, as if you are the funniest thing you have ever heard. And to be honest, you really ARE the funniest thing I have ever heard! Your talking is so advanced--not only are you starting to really enunciate your words (this morning, your sound for kitty sounded more like "kkk-tay" than your old "kkk-ttt"), but you are mixing your syllables in such a way that I can't even type out what it sounds like! It is definitely your own little language, and I have no doubt that you are going to be chattering nonstop sometime soon.
When I read you your bedtime stories every night, you help me turn the pages of the book. Sometimes you start before I'm done reading the page, as if to tell me, "yeah yeah yeah, I know what happens. Let's keep it moving." Other times you sit and stare at the page, delicately touching the drawings with your sweet little pointing finger, looking up at me as if to say, "Look, Momma! Look at this cool thing on the page!" The world is full of such wonder for you, such discovery. It is amazing to witness.
This month you've started to develop the sweetest little snuggle. Up to this point you've been on the go, always interested in what's happening somewhere else, always energetic, always confident and outgoing. This month, though, you've started snuggling into me, resting your head in the corner of my neck and playing gently with the skin on my arm. I know it's just a phase. I know eventually you are going to outgrow your mom-snuggles and be back to your energetic, confident, go-go-go self . . . so I am relishing every single second of your sweet, sweet snuggles that I get.
You have broken two more teeth this month: the two bottom teeth on either side of your middle bottom teeth. It is so cute to see your sweet toothy smile! And we can tell that your top two middle teeth are on their way in. Four teeth in three weeks . . . oi vey! Luckily you are a champ at teething just like at everything else, and it only seems to bother you for a day or two at best.
I never feel like I have enough time with you, enough time to play, enough time to explore the world, enough time to snuggle into each other. I want you to know that I relish our time together, that every minute with you means more to me than anything ever. And when I kiss you goodnight at the end of the day, I really take that moment to stop and thank you for the best day of my life (every day with you is the best day of my life).
Happy 9 months to my crawling, waving, pointing, jabbering, laughing, snuggling baby girl. What an amazing month it's been.
Love forever and ever,
Mom
Wow. Just rolling that age around in my mouth and mind feels weighty. Apparently you were quite impressed with it this morning as well, for as we sat together petting the kitties good morning, I turned to you and told you excitedly, "Ali! You are nine months old today!" and your eyes grew big and round, your mouth broke into a smile, and you started clapping! Seriously. That actually happened. Why should I even be surprised anymore when you are perfect and adorable??
What an fantastic month it's been. You are learning and growing and changing at light speed now, and it has been so amazing to witness it all. We'll start off with the biggest and best: you're mobile!! After months of being perfectly content to sit and play with whatever has been within reach, you finally decided that you wanted more. The first step was you learning how to go from sitting down onto your belly (without crashing face-first to the floor). Once you had that maneuver down, you started figuring out how to get where you wanted to go. Your first mode of transportation was what I call "inch-worm-wiggle-scooching." You kind of just . . . well . . . inch-wormed your way toward your goal, usually in a bit of a sideways direction, kind of like a sand crab or sidewinder snake. It was only a couple of days before you figured out the true "forward" direction, and now you're unstoppable! You haven't really figured out true crawling up on your hands and knees, so you do what is called creeping or army crawling. You pull with your arms and push with your feet, but you stay down on your stomach. You can get over, under, around, and through things, though! You are one determined little lady! And when there is something across the room that you REALLY want, you get there fast and make determined little grunts of effort with every push/pull. A-DORABLE. Your favorite is to crawl into or through spaces . . . you like to crawl into bookshelves and under cribs at school, and one of your favorite games at home is for us to make a fort with the couch cushions and to crawl around and through them.
In other physical developments this month, you have also learned how to go from laying on your stomach to sitting up! You did this one time when you were about 7.5 months old, but seemed to have forgotten how. Seeing as how you are spending a lot of time on your tummy now what with your mobility and all, and you were getting pretty frustrated that you would finally get where you were trying to go, and then be stuck on your stomach when what you really wanted to do was sit up and play with whatever toy you had worked your way over to! Then last Friday it just "clicked." You sat up five or six times at school and you've been doing it ever since. You are a much happier baby now that you can pretty much get down, move, and get back up to sitting whenever you want. It was pretty funny the other morning to look at you on the baby monitor and see you sitting up in your crib, playing with the mesh bumper! You daddy lowered the crib that very same day. What a big girl you are!
You are also clapping anytime you hear anyone say "Yay!!!" So we say "Yay!!!" a lot because the truth is that baby clapping is awesome. You get the biggest smile on your face every time you clap. And you're pointing, too! You point to people, you point to toys, you point which direction in the house you want to go when I'm carrying you. You are also starting to share with others; when you have a toy or piece of food, you hold it out to me or your daddy, as if inviting us to enjoy it as well. Then we give it back and you hold it out to the other. We do that back and forth, taking turns with your toys, until you decide you'd like to keep it and stick it straight into your mouth.
You wave hello and bye-bye any time you hear those words, with your wave varying between facing you, facing out, and a close-fisted wave that looks like you're revving a motorcycle engine. Most days when I pick you up from school, you rush over to me, and the second you are in my arms, you turn to your teachers and wave "bye bye" to them. It makes us all laugh and makes my heart burst. The sign for "all done" also involves a version of waving hands, and you are just now starting to wave "bye bye" when you are done eating--your way of telling us that you're all done! Such a smart little cookie you are. The sign for "more" involves bringing your hands together, and we're just starting to see the beginning of that, even though it usually turns into clapping. That's close enough to get across your meaning, though!
You are starting to build things and stack things and put things inside other things rather than just being "Ali the Destructor" where all you were interested in was knocking down and dumping out. Last night we were playing with emptying and then filling a bowl, when suddenly you dumped everything out and put the bowl on your head! You then looked at me with your trademark grin, and I couldn't help but laugh. Such a funny girl you are. Speaking of funny, you have also started cracking yourself up! You laugh at pretty much everything now: peek-a-boo and getting tossed in the air and people popping out from behind walls. But you are also starting to laugh at stuff that you do, including when you tell yourself jokes. I'm serious. Many times when we are headed somewhere in the car, you will sit in the backseat and jabber on and on to yourself in your own little language. Every few minutes you will punctuate your monologue with a giggle or chuckle, as if you are the funniest thing you have ever heard. And to be honest, you really ARE the funniest thing I have ever heard! Your talking is so advanced--not only are you starting to really enunciate your words (this morning, your sound for kitty sounded more like "kkk-tay" than your old "kkk-ttt"), but you are mixing your syllables in such a way that I can't even type out what it sounds like! It is definitely your own little language, and I have no doubt that you are going to be chattering nonstop sometime soon.
When I read you your bedtime stories every night, you help me turn the pages of the book. Sometimes you start before I'm done reading the page, as if to tell me, "yeah yeah yeah, I know what happens. Let's keep it moving." Other times you sit and stare at the page, delicately touching the drawings with your sweet little pointing finger, looking up at me as if to say, "Look, Momma! Look at this cool thing on the page!" The world is full of such wonder for you, such discovery. It is amazing to witness.
This month you've started to develop the sweetest little snuggle. Up to this point you've been on the go, always interested in what's happening somewhere else, always energetic, always confident and outgoing. This month, though, you've started snuggling into me, resting your head in the corner of my neck and playing gently with the skin on my arm. I know it's just a phase. I know eventually you are going to outgrow your mom-snuggles and be back to your energetic, confident, go-go-go self . . . so I am relishing every single second of your sweet, sweet snuggles that I get.
You have broken two more teeth this month: the two bottom teeth on either side of your middle bottom teeth. It is so cute to see your sweet toothy smile! And we can tell that your top two middle teeth are on their way in. Four teeth in three weeks . . . oi vey! Luckily you are a champ at teething just like at everything else, and it only seems to bother you for a day or two at best.
I never feel like I have enough time with you, enough time to play, enough time to explore the world, enough time to snuggle into each other. I want you to know that I relish our time together, that every minute with you means more to me than anything ever. And when I kiss you goodnight at the end of the day, I really take that moment to stop and thank you for the best day of my life (every day with you is the best day of my life).
Happy 9 months to my crawling, waving, pointing, jabbering, laughing, snuggling baby girl. What an amazing month it's been.
Love forever and ever,
Mom
Friday, June 11, 2010
T-R-O-U-B-L-E
Apparently baby girl spent almost half the day yesterday at school lying in the castle while three of the boys in her class gathered around the outside of the castle, peeking in at her. When she noticed them peeking in, she would start giggling and laughing.
Apparently she also has a "favorite" boy, who she follows around the room.
Apparently she has also been known to lay her head on his lap and he'll "read" her stories.
I think Travis Tritt had it right: I smell T-R-O-U-B-L-E.
Apparently she also has a "favorite" boy, who she follows around the room.
Apparently she has also been known to lay her head on his lap and he'll "read" her stories.
I think Travis Tritt had it right: I smell T-R-O-U-B-L-E.
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