Wow, it has been nothing but non-stop moving since oh, jeez, last Tuesday?
Breathe. Repeat.
For once, I got most of all of the fun weekend type stuff (laundry, find the bottom of the kitchen sink, etc.) done. Now, let's be clear-I still have two baskets of laundry that need to be folded and deposited where they need to be. But! But! I am proud to note that there is nothing sitting in the dryer. I even managed to wash a couple of small cat beds, and the dogs' blankets (such as they are-stained towels from Husband's hotel, but they seem to like them) and get them back to the kennels.
I still feel like I've been run over by a truck. I had a bunch of things to do for work that didn't get done, and ran out of mulch for my tree ring hosta beds. But for the first time in a while, I didn't feel like a complete and utter failure, which is a plus.
I knew that this week would be a bear, and it has been, a whole day in. Back to back meetings, various fire drills, pulling me out of meetings, running from one end of the building to another (twice), being short an admin....you get the idea.
However, BabyA, who I can't remember if I have renamed her here as LMT (little miss thing), has seemed to turn the corner on the whole potty training thing. Now, granted, just by virtue of me typing this I will get home tonight to find multiple bags of "mistakes," but she had a fantastic weekend as far as that went. We moved her to a big girl bed (making her crib a daybed) and she has done amazingly well. She hates to get her Tinkerbell or Fancy Nancy undies yukky, so her stubbornness may actually work in our favor for a change. She's also taking to water in an almost fish like manner at her swimming lessons. As opposed to the ordeal that we went through with Son, she looks forward to each Saturday, and can't wait to get into the pool. Son treated it as an eight week long punishment and did his best cat impersonation each time that he got into the pool.
Speaking of the pool, I'm actually in the water with LMT. I've managed to suspend my usual strong aversion to appearing in public in anything resembling to a swimsuit, but in this case, having LMT as a very cute accessory seems to work. Yes, there is one mom who shows up in a bikini, and another that looks like she has probably run for, and may someday win, Mrs. Minnesota (but also seems to be a genuinely nice person), but it has been remarkably free of angst despite it all.
Work keeps ramping up with little to no breaks. I'm short an attorney right now, and have to start yet another round of recruiting (blech). I'm loving all the stuff that is coming across my desk and through my door, but hate the fact that I can't seem to, or ever possibly, get it all done. I like the fact that I seem to have won over at least parts of the engineering community, and that I'm getting involved on a higher business level, and that they seem to care about IP at this point. I'm worried that if I don't find a way to get it all done, I will lose all of that momentum and good will, and it will end up blowing up on me.
The part that I'm having trouble finding the balance is that I really need to see my kids. It's not necessarily coming from the place where I know that my kids need me, but more that I need them. They center me, and seem to give me fuel to keep going. One of my favorite things at night is sitting on the love seat in LMT's room and talking to her about her day, or talking about the story that we had just read. Or, if I get the chance, to sit in bed with Son and talk about his day. If I were a good little employee, I would then log in and work for another of couple of hours. I'm afraid if I keep up this type of pace, I will fall apart rather quickly. When I have done this before, I turn into that shrieking, crazy mother that sends children into therapy as adults. I hate that-it does nothing but make us all miserable. Husband is not the most positive person when it comes to handling the kids, and I don't want to pile on top of that. Son is so sensitive, and keeps so much of it inside, that I worry that I will end up with a four year old with an ulcer. Not because I was that kind of kid. Really.
I've rambled all over the place, and probably should have closed several paragraphs before now. Time to pay attention to my call...you know, what I get paid for.
Showing posts with label BabyA. Show all posts
Showing posts with label BabyA. Show all posts
Monday, April 12, 2010
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
Welcome to the Chronicle Infirmary!
Yep, after having some smugness about how we managed to miss any major sickies over the winter, I managed to get smacked around but good. However, considering that we got three solid inches of snow last weekend (it's APRIL people), I should have seen it coming.
First up on the well-beaten path to the pediatrician was Son. He had been nursing one of those deep and barking coughs for a while, but it was only really happening at night. My immediate, non-medically educated thought was that we haven't been very good about making sure that there is water in his humidifier, so maybe it was just dry. The day before we ended up at the doctor's office, he had spent the entire day outside, running and playing. Imagine my surprise when the kind doc told me that yes, he does have something going on in his lungs, and how does pneumonia in the right lung sound? Wonderful. Zithromax for five days, and a couple of really long naps, and he was back to his old self. He still maintains that he has "a bad cough," but now it is just to avoid going to daycare.
Next stop on the tour was Husband, who is actually worse than Son, at least on the horrible patient scale. Loads of snot, couldn't really sleep lying down for almost a week, headaches, dizzy, coughing fits. He has a history of sinus infections, so we were pretty sure that he would go in, get a Z-pack, and it would be over. Instead, they told him to do a nasal rinse (and yes, it looks worse than it sounds) without even examining him. It took a grumpy phone call to finally get anything, and an insinuation that Husband was an abuser of antibiotics. OK, I know that I'm not a doc, but in what I do, I have to look at all of the facts to try to come up with a conclusion. Over the past three years, Husband had been on an immunosuppressor for his psoriasis, which caused an abundance of sinus infections, and some other weird stuff. If said MD had looked further down on his medication history, she would have seen that.
The final stop was for BabyA. She was summarily dismissed from daycare on Wednesday afternoon with a fever of 101. We spent Thursday confined to the house, with her alternating from sleeping for three hour stretches at a time, and me chasing her around the house with a box of tissue wiping her nose of the neon yellow goo that was escaping. She had been coughing, but it really ramped up on Thursday. So much for my "its just a cold theory." Friday morning, back to my favorite pediatrician's office, bronchitis. Chronicle family member #3 on Zithromax. I should have my own express line at the pharmacy at Target.
Somehow, by God's grace, voodoo, or some other unknown phenomena, I've remained the only semi-well person in our house. I did sneak in one nap over the weekend. Son made the beguiling offer of "just lay down with me" on his uber comfy bed for a nap, and, well, three hours later we were both quite refreshed. I have to admit, that after suffering through Husband's near seismic snoring lately, hearing Son's soft purr was a relief. And he's a much better snuggler with no ulterior motives.
I've managed to disinfect most of the house, and all seems to moving towards recovery. Now if it would just stop snowing......
First up on the well-beaten path to the pediatrician was Son. He had been nursing one of those deep and barking coughs for a while, but it was only really happening at night. My immediate, non-medically educated thought was that we haven't been very good about making sure that there is water in his humidifier, so maybe it was just dry. The day before we ended up at the doctor's office, he had spent the entire day outside, running and playing. Imagine my surprise when the kind doc told me that yes, he does have something going on in his lungs, and how does pneumonia in the right lung sound? Wonderful. Zithromax for five days, and a couple of really long naps, and he was back to his old self. He still maintains that he has "a bad cough," but now it is just to avoid going to daycare.
Next stop on the tour was Husband, who is actually worse than Son, at least on the horrible patient scale. Loads of snot, couldn't really sleep lying down for almost a week, headaches, dizzy, coughing fits. He has a history of sinus infections, so we were pretty sure that he would go in, get a Z-pack, and it would be over. Instead, they told him to do a nasal rinse (and yes, it looks worse than it sounds) without even examining him. It took a grumpy phone call to finally get anything, and an insinuation that Husband was an abuser of antibiotics. OK, I know that I'm not a doc, but in what I do, I have to look at all of the facts to try to come up with a conclusion. Over the past three years, Husband had been on an immunosuppressor for his psoriasis, which caused an abundance of sinus infections, and some other weird stuff. If said MD had looked further down on his medication history, she would have seen that.
The final stop was for BabyA. She was summarily dismissed from daycare on Wednesday afternoon with a fever of 101. We spent Thursday confined to the house, with her alternating from sleeping for three hour stretches at a time, and me chasing her around the house with a box of tissue wiping her nose of the neon yellow goo that was escaping. She had been coughing, but it really ramped up on Thursday. So much for my "its just a cold theory." Friday morning, back to my favorite pediatrician's office, bronchitis. Chronicle family member #3 on Zithromax. I should have my own express line at the pharmacy at Target.
Somehow, by God's grace, voodoo, or some other unknown phenomena, I've remained the only semi-well person in our house. I did sneak in one nap over the weekend. Son made the beguiling offer of "just lay down with me" on his uber comfy bed for a nap, and, well, three hours later we were both quite refreshed. I have to admit, that after suffering through Husband's near seismic snoring lately, hearing Son's soft purr was a relief. And he's a much better snuggler with no ulterior motives.
I've managed to disinfect most of the house, and all seems to moving towards recovery. Now if it would just stop snowing......
Friday, March 13, 2009
18 Months
BabyA had her 18 month appointment today. She was her bright and perky self-insisted on walking to the exam room, which was ALL.THE.WAY at the end. She moves quickly, but not that fast. That hallway has never seemed so long.
Anyway. We did all the basic stuff, height (32"!), weight (23 lbs), and head circumference (19). She's still fairly skinny and tall (35 and 70th percentiles, respectively). The exam was pretty uneventful, but I do love to watch her face. Our pedi is great-we've finally found the right fit. She sat on my lap as Dr. S. checked reflexes, etc. BabyA looked at her knee in shock as her foot shot out after the tap. She was completely entranced, but very, very serious. I couldn't help but chuckle. She was checking Dr. S out quite thoroughly. No crying, but intense interest. Those big baby blues were following everything, her brow slightly furrowed.
Just one shot, her tetanus booster. She didn't even cry. Girl felt sorry for her mommy. Overall, we are once again blessed to have an uber healthy little girl. She's OK at her weight right now, and we just need to keep her there. She's still a little picky, but she will try new things, at least a little bit. She's a unique little creature, this now toddler of mine. Once again, a baby in my house has performed a vanishing act. I'll always miss the baby she was, but I can't wait to see the person that she becomes.
Anyway. We did all the basic stuff, height (32"!), weight (23 lbs), and head circumference (19). She's still fairly skinny and tall (35 and 70th percentiles, respectively). The exam was pretty uneventful, but I do love to watch her face. Our pedi is great-we've finally found the right fit. She sat on my lap as Dr. S. checked reflexes, etc. BabyA looked at her knee in shock as her foot shot out after the tap. She was completely entranced, but very, very serious. I couldn't help but chuckle. She was checking Dr. S out quite thoroughly. No crying, but intense interest. Those big baby blues were following everything, her brow slightly furrowed.
Just one shot, her tetanus booster. She didn't even cry. Girl felt sorry for her mommy. Overall, we are once again blessed to have an uber healthy little girl. She's OK at her weight right now, and we just need to keep her there. She's still a little picky, but she will try new things, at least a little bit. She's a unique little creature, this now toddler of mine. Once again, a baby in my house has performed a vanishing act. I'll always miss the baby she was, but I can't wait to see the person that she becomes.
Friday, March 06, 2009
Sweetest thing...
Last night when I picked up the kids from daycare, both of them were out in the large muscle area. I came through the gate, and BabyA was there, arms up, saying "up, up!" I picked her up and was talking to the director about a bite mark that had materialized on BabyA. We finished up, deciding that somebody got away with one, and I turned to see Son getting into it with another kid over a toy.
The teacher broke it up, and Son came over to me, crying. It was a case of a tired kid, another kid grabbing onto his toy, and the end of the day. ANYWAY, BabyA, who I had put down when I heard the squawking from Son, came over to Son, and wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him the biggest hug. I haven't gotten a true hug from her yet, but yet Son gets one. He sort of ignored her, and just clung to my legs. BabyA, being her usual determined self, was still worried, so she went around him and hugged him from the back. He calmed down, and she felt that everything was OK enough to let go.
It was a show of empathy that I hadn't seen from her before, and made me so happy. It was one of the reasons that we had two children-so that they would have each other, be able to lean on each other, play together. They still have their moments, and I would be surprised if they didn't. However, it was such sweet, pure concern for Son, that motivated her.
I pray that it doesn't change any time soon. Just another reason for me to thank God for having her in my world. Our little family would be less without her.
The teacher broke it up, and Son came over to me, crying. It was a case of a tired kid, another kid grabbing onto his toy, and the end of the day. ANYWAY, BabyA, who I had put down when I heard the squawking from Son, came over to Son, and wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him the biggest hug. I haven't gotten a true hug from her yet, but yet Son gets one. He sort of ignored her, and just clung to my legs. BabyA, being her usual determined self, was still worried, so she went around him and hugged him from the back. He calmed down, and she felt that everything was OK enough to let go.
It was a show of empathy that I hadn't seen from her before, and made me so happy. It was one of the reasons that we had two children-so that they would have each other, be able to lean on each other, play together. They still have their moments, and I would be surprised if they didn't. However, it was such sweet, pure concern for Son, that motivated her.
I pray that it doesn't change any time soon. Just another reason for me to thank God for having her in my world. Our little family would be less without her.
Monday, February 02, 2009
Tales of the day....
Just the daily minutia:
**It's four, yep, count 'em four, degrees out, and while walking down the hospital-like hallways of where I work, there is a song on the muzak that uses steel drums. That's not even nice.
**I go on a Target run over lunch for cough drops, and disinfecting wipes (one of my admins won't come into my office due to the return of "the hack"), and I'm so proud of myself for remembering my re-usable shopping bag. Yea for Chronicle! Then what do I do? Get a plastic bag to try to keep my pizza from the cafe warm until I get back to work. Duh. What does that get me on the environmental footprint map??
**NOTE TO THE RESIDENT 16 MONTH OLD OF THE CHRONICLE HOUSE: thou shalt keep thy butt in bed all night long. No 3:30 wake ups for Mommy, based solely on the fact that you had misplaced your Binky in your crib, and a desire for yet another reading of "Panda Bear, Panda Bear." Thank you, The Management
**NOTE TO THE RESIDENT THREE YEAR OLD: You made my morning when you came into my room and said, "Hi Mommy, it's me, C." Of course it is, and I'm happy to see you too. Thank you for not wailing during the process of getting dressed this morning, for plying your sister with grapes and blueberries while I took black dog out, and for still wanting to hold my hand.
**It's four, yep, count 'em four, degrees out, and while walking down the hospital-like hallways of where I work, there is a song on the muzak that uses steel drums. That's not even nice.
**I go on a Target run over lunch for cough drops, and disinfecting wipes (one of my admins won't come into my office due to the return of "the hack"), and I'm so proud of myself for remembering my re-usable shopping bag. Yea for Chronicle! Then what do I do? Get a plastic bag to try to keep my pizza from the cafe warm until I get back to work. Duh. What does that get me on the environmental footprint map??
**NOTE TO THE RESIDENT 16 MONTH OLD OF THE CHRONICLE HOUSE: thou shalt keep thy butt in bed all night long. No 3:30 wake ups for Mommy, based solely on the fact that you had misplaced your Binky in your crib, and a desire for yet another reading of "Panda Bear, Panda Bear." Thank you, The Management
**NOTE TO THE RESIDENT THREE YEAR OLD: You made my morning when you came into my room and said, "Hi Mommy, it's me, C." Of course it is, and I'm happy to see you too. Thank you for not wailing during the process of getting dressed this morning, for plying your sister with grapes and blueberries while I took black dog out, and for still wanting to hold my hand.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
My girl-the genius
...'cause I'm not biased or anything. However, I continue to be astounded at how fast BabyA's vocabulary is expanding. She's pretty much voted to screw the signing, I'll just learn the word! Some of them tend to sound the same, but there's just enough differentiation to be able to try to get what she is screeching at you. But she's still pretty darn cute. Not that anyone asked (or cares, but hey, this is MY sandbox after all) here's what she can say at one year, one month:
- uh-oh
- all done
- more
- kitty (both the two that patrol the house and her stuffed amur leopard from the zoo)
- doggie
- ducky (her favorite stuffed one)
- b-byl (for the cat, Cybl)
- juice
- shoes (her favorites)
- apple
- purple
- night night
- bye bye
- Amber (otherwise known around here as yellow dog)
- mama
- dada
- out
- up
We're at that point where we identify everything, but it's not that much of a chore, since she'll make an honest effort to try to say it. I wish that she would try the signing, but she's just not that into it. The new head teacher of her room isn't that into it either; the previous one really was (she was the one that taught Son when he was this age). The prime example was that I was feeding BabyA some applesauce during lunch one day. I had the audacity to try to eat my own lunch at the same time (we're working on patience here people). She kept reaching and grunting at the applesauce on the table. I signed and said "more?" She pointed, face all scrunched up, and said "apple." Got it. Pretty clear communication there.
She's still the most amazing little bug-I can't imagine not having her here.
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
crappy day. too much, not enough hours; not enough to get it all done, not enough in one stretch with my eyes closed.
miss my kids, worried about the boy, worried about my choices hurting him. happy until I tell him that he has to get ready for school (daycare/preschool). cries every morning. the drama of being three or something else? conferences next week.
little girl is literally running away from babyhood, and not looking back. learned two new words this weekend; apple and purple. loves her purple stripey socks and my ginormous striped umbrella in the rain this morning. sang all the way to daycare; didn't want to let her go and leave. still did, but still not happy about it.
strange dreams lately; last one was of a view of two embryos, perfectly dividing, in some sort of xray/MRI view of me. I was happy-twins! no fear. sad when I woke up and realized that there was no chance of the dream being a way of my body trying to tell me something. lots of baby dreams. we can't-no space, no money, too little time. I'm old, he's old, and they are still so small. I worry about being there for them when they need us the most.
husband's cardiologist appointment tomorrow; i'm terrified. the cardio MRI wasn't good, and he doesn't seem to comprehend how bad it all could be. he says he's worried about me. I don't have time to worry about me, i've got the three others. i'm avoiding the pixie-sized endocrinologist who keeps calling to get me to make an appointment-it's been a year after all. because it's always fun to pay someone to beat me up about what I already do.
just stop for a day world-just let me stop.
miss my kids, worried about the boy, worried about my choices hurting him. happy until I tell him that he has to get ready for school (daycare/preschool). cries every morning. the drama of being three or something else? conferences next week.
little girl is literally running away from babyhood, and not looking back. learned two new words this weekend; apple and purple. loves her purple stripey socks and my ginormous striped umbrella in the rain this morning. sang all the way to daycare; didn't want to let her go and leave. still did, but still not happy about it.
strange dreams lately; last one was of a view of two embryos, perfectly dividing, in some sort of xray/MRI view of me. I was happy-twins! no fear. sad when I woke up and realized that there was no chance of the dream being a way of my body trying to tell me something. lots of baby dreams. we can't-no space, no money, too little time. I'm old, he's old, and they are still so small. I worry about being there for them when they need us the most.
husband's cardiologist appointment tomorrow; i'm terrified. the cardio MRI wasn't good, and he doesn't seem to comprehend how bad it all could be. he says he's worried about me. I don't have time to worry about me, i've got the three others. i'm avoiding the pixie-sized endocrinologist who keeps calling to get me to make an appointment-it's been a year after all. because it's always fun to pay someone to beat me up about what I already do.
just stop for a day world-just let me stop.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Disappearing Act
Yes, it's been a while. The only thing that I ask is that I get a dispensation for being horrendously busy, and sucking at the whole work/life balance thing. Work gets half, kids get half, and then there is that Husband guy, and the fuzzy occupants of our house. Me? Um yeah, I'll get to her someday. Maybe.
That being said, we had another milestone in our house a couple of weeks ago; BabyA turned 1! She's a walking, almost running, starting to talk, little whirlwind of a girl. She's been taking steps unassisted since she was about 10 months, two or three here, five or eight there. But in the past couple of weeks, she's started traversing entire rooms. A couple of nights ago we were playing and I was chasing her, and she tried to run! It was so cute and funny. The song "Drunken Sailor" came to mind. I'll give her this, she's a very determined little creature.
She can say "mama", "dada", "kitty", "b-byl" (the cat, Cybl), and, get this, "all done." We've been working on signing, and since she has pretty good fine motor control for her age, I've been trying to get her to do her thing. She looked up at me, and clear as day said "all done." With a big smile. She brings something to our family that is so uniquely her-her smiles and giggles, her stubbornness, her insistence on being heard and paid attention to. I don't think that I'll have to worry about her being a wallflower.
I do admit that I worry about her-not for any concrete reason that I can point at, but I know what it's like to be a girl, and I'm really trying to not pass on my hangups to her. It certainly would be a gift; my mom did a dozy on me. I just want her to grow up and be sure of herself, to not question every little thing; to be confident that she is good enough. Good enough to do whatever she wants, good enough to be treated well, good enough to be happy and comfortable in her own skin. Its reduced me to tears more than once. I just want so much for her. I don't want her to have to deal with what I did.
Regardless, I'm still quite smitten. Son is too; although now that she's mobile and as squawky as a grumpy parrot at times, there have been some instances of "mine!!!!" MOM!!! Which I expected at this point. He's still so great at trying to make her happy when she cries, he'll go and find a binky (I know, I know, but she's a junky-one step at a time folks), or give her one of his blankets. He's more than I had ever hoped for.
As for me, we're still nursing, and I'm not quite sure when I want to bring that to an end. This is very likely my last baby, and I don't want to lost that last link to having a baby. She seems OK with it as well, and hasn't shown any sign of wanting to wean. We may just see where it goes. I'm looking at nothing past 18 months, but we'll see. Some days I really wish that I didn't have to pump, but when I get my 20 minutes with her before she goes to bed, it's all worth it. It's the only time that she stops moving.
I've got to get back to being productive-no rest for the wicked!
That being said, we had another milestone in our house a couple of weeks ago; BabyA turned 1! She's a walking, almost running, starting to talk, little whirlwind of a girl. She's been taking steps unassisted since she was about 10 months, two or three here, five or eight there. But in the past couple of weeks, she's started traversing entire rooms. A couple of nights ago we were playing and I was chasing her, and she tried to run! It was so cute and funny. The song "Drunken Sailor" came to mind. I'll give her this, she's a very determined little creature.
She can say "mama", "dada", "kitty", "b-byl" (the cat, Cybl), and, get this, "all done." We've been working on signing, and since she has pretty good fine motor control for her age, I've been trying to get her to do her thing. She looked up at me, and clear as day said "all done." With a big smile. She brings something to our family that is so uniquely her-her smiles and giggles, her stubbornness, her insistence on being heard and paid attention to. I don't think that I'll have to worry about her being a wallflower.
I do admit that I worry about her-not for any concrete reason that I can point at, but I know what it's like to be a girl, and I'm really trying to not pass on my hangups to her. It certainly would be a gift; my mom did a dozy on me. I just want her to grow up and be sure of herself, to not question every little thing; to be confident that she is good enough. Good enough to do whatever she wants, good enough to be treated well, good enough to be happy and comfortable in her own skin. Its reduced me to tears more than once. I just want so much for her. I don't want her to have to deal with what I did.
Regardless, I'm still quite smitten. Son is too; although now that she's mobile and as squawky as a grumpy parrot at times, there have been some instances of "mine!!!!" MOM!!! Which I expected at this point. He's still so great at trying to make her happy when she cries, he'll go and find a binky (I know, I know, but she's a junky-one step at a time folks), or give her one of his blankets. He's more than I had ever hoped for.
As for me, we're still nursing, and I'm not quite sure when I want to bring that to an end. This is very likely my last baby, and I don't want to lost that last link to having a baby. She seems OK with it as well, and hasn't shown any sign of wanting to wean. We may just see where it goes. I'm looking at nothing past 18 months, but we'll see. Some days I really wish that I didn't have to pump, but when I get my 20 minutes with her before she goes to bed, it's all worth it. It's the only time that she stops moving.
I've got to get back to being productive-no rest for the wicked!
Friday, August 08, 2008
The true mom chronicles
Lots has been going on in chronicle land, but as I've plead earlier, I've been up to my eyeballs trying to get this new job of mine under control, and either I am in the midst of a sleep-deprived delusion (damn style channel) or it is really getting better. I am by no means out of the woods on this one, and may not be for quite some time, but it hasn't been even remotely as heinous as predicted. However, the reality need not be known publicly; from the people that I've talked to at my old site, I'm up for sainthood. How cool is that? I just had to move to a different location, but no horrible death. Hmmm....
Son has been doing extremely well on the potty training front. In the two weeks that I have been sending him to DC in underwear, he's only had a couple of accidents. I asked the teachers if they thought that we were pushing things, and they said that they thought he was doing great, and to change anything would probably cause things to backslide. We're still struggling with the whole poop thing-he'll do it at home, but it's iffy at daycare. He's been a little constipated-yes, I know that y'all really needed to know that-but I think that may be causing some of our problems. He does fine with getting in enough fluids, but I'll need to make up another batch of Husband's fantastic bran muffins to help things out. I'm not kidding, they are really, really good.
Anyway, he's been doing so well, that he's been "visiting" the pre-school room, and has been handling it pretty well. I can tell that the change is on his mind-he wants to re-join his old friends that are older than he is, most of whom he has been with since he was a baby-but yet he's not so sure about this whole big boy thing. It helps that one of the teachers that he loved in the toddler room is now in one of the pre-school rooms. This whole development, however, has raised quite a question on our part however. Since my job location has changed, and the current daycare is actually quite a way out of the way now, do we move him before he gets too settled into the pre-school environment (which he should be ready for by the start of the "school" year after Labor Day), or, since I still have to cover my old site for a while, leave him there until we absolutely have to move? Part of me thinks that it is worth the extra time and miles because he is comfortable and is doing so well. He knows most of his letters, and I heard him sounding something out a couple of days ago. He didn't get it quite right, but he was working on it based on what he knew. Oh, and did I mention that my tuition would go down again? Probably enough to justify the gas? But then again, winter is coming, and if they close, neither Husband or I are very close. I really don't want to deal with this, but I know that I will have to eventually.
On happier news, BabyA took her first steps this week. And I missed them. One of the sucky things about being a working mom. I appreciate that the daycare ladies wrote it down on her report to let me know. However, the little stinker hasn't repeated her feat at home yet. She can stand independently for a long time, but just isn't quite certain that forward movement is a good thing. She does this weird little plie type of move, like she's trying to wind up or something, but usually all that results in is that her legs get tired and she plunks down on her diapered bottom. She's still my light-her smiles are worth everything. She even has decided to grow some hair! Not as much as Son had at this age, but she isn't a cue ball anymore!
There is certainly more that I need to prattle on about, like how much longer I plan on nursing, Husband's run in with my dad (he's now 2-2 with pissing off my parents), and all sorts of other fun stuff. However, I do need to get some work done so I can possibly entertain the thought of sneaking out for a quick shopping excursion before I pick up the kids. Happy Friday!
Son has been doing extremely well on the potty training front. In the two weeks that I have been sending him to DC in underwear, he's only had a couple of accidents. I asked the teachers if they thought that we were pushing things, and they said that they thought he was doing great, and to change anything would probably cause things to backslide. We're still struggling with the whole poop thing-he'll do it at home, but it's iffy at daycare. He's been a little constipated-yes, I know that y'all really needed to know that-but I think that may be causing some of our problems. He does fine with getting in enough fluids, but I'll need to make up another batch of Husband's fantastic bran muffins to help things out. I'm not kidding, they are really, really good.
Anyway, he's been doing so well, that he's been "visiting" the pre-school room, and has been handling it pretty well. I can tell that the change is on his mind-he wants to re-join his old friends that are older than he is, most of whom he has been with since he was a baby-but yet he's not so sure about this whole big boy thing. It helps that one of the teachers that he loved in the toddler room is now in one of the pre-school rooms. This whole development, however, has raised quite a question on our part however. Since my job location has changed, and the current daycare is actually quite a way out of the way now, do we move him before he gets too settled into the pre-school environment (which he should be ready for by the start of the "school" year after Labor Day), or, since I still have to cover my old site for a while, leave him there until we absolutely have to move? Part of me thinks that it is worth the extra time and miles because he is comfortable and is doing so well. He knows most of his letters, and I heard him sounding something out a couple of days ago. He didn't get it quite right, but he was working on it based on what he knew. Oh, and did I mention that my tuition would go down again? Probably enough to justify the gas? But then again, winter is coming, and if they close, neither Husband or I are very close. I really don't want to deal with this, but I know that I will have to eventually.
On happier news, BabyA took her first steps this week. And I missed them. One of the sucky things about being a working mom. I appreciate that the daycare ladies wrote it down on her report to let me know. However, the little stinker hasn't repeated her feat at home yet. She can stand independently for a long time, but just isn't quite certain that forward movement is a good thing. She does this weird little plie type of move, like she's trying to wind up or something, but usually all that results in is that her legs get tired and she plunks down on her diapered bottom. She's still my light-her smiles are worth everything. She even has decided to grow some hair! Not as much as Son had at this age, but she isn't a cue ball anymore!
There is certainly more that I need to prattle on about, like how much longer I plan on nursing, Husband's run in with my dad (he's now 2-2 with pissing off my parents), and all sorts of other fun stuff. However, I do need to get some work done so I can possibly entertain the thought of sneaking out for a quick shopping excursion before I pick up the kids. Happy Friday!
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Nine months
BabyA turned nine months last week. As I've worried before, my baby is disappearing.
However, due to some scheduling difficulties, she had her nine month appointment yesterday. Of all the things in my life, I tend to be the most punctual about my children's respective well baby/child appointments. Well, at least the scheduling part. Getting there at the appointed time, or, as I've heard that some people do, getting there prior to the appointed time, is a different story.
Regardless, we made it there in one piece, and she was fairly happy. She's been sleeping pretty rotten during the day lately, and I was a little worried that my choice of a 3:30 appointment wasn't all that wise. For once she cut me some slack (she really is a little taskmaster), and was happy and charming, except for the nurse who did the blood draw for her lead screen and hemoglobin. Big bottom lip, one dainty and dramatic tear down the cheek, looking piteously up at Daddy. Such a princess.
Everything seems to be clipping along with her. She's a bit over 18 lbs (49th) and 28ish inches (88th). Her ears are still OK, and all of the other important parts seemed ok. I did raise my concerns about the near constant runny nose, now approaching three months worth, and the rash that she seemed to have developed overnight. I appreciate that babies have sensitive skin, but I seem to have a sensitive sensitive baby. She's also been running a low-grade fever off and on for quite a while, which has been worrying me about a compromised immune system, or some infection that we were missing. The pediatrician's verdict? Teething. I have a hard time with that, since the next set are nowhere on the horizon/gumline. However, she has been a drool machine lately, so that may be it. I'm just worried about her. I'm going through Motrin like it's going out of style. She always seems to feel so much better with it, it just seems to me like there may be something else in the background. I'll give her another month or so, so we'll see.
Other than her medical status, she's a pretty happy little girl. She has become more brave in her adventures in the crawling arena, and has started to track me down when I plunk her down with her toys and disappear to do something extravagant like go to the bathroom or get ready for work. Very rarely does she complain, she just sets out, little fuzzy head down, and grins up at me with I'm found. She adores her brother, plain and simple. She pulls up on anything remotely vertical, and has only had a couple of good bumps. Funny thing is, most of them have been her toppling over while sitting and managing to miss the rug and hit the hardwood. I hate that little thump noise. She's also bound and determined to be walking before she's a year. Right now she is cruising up and down the couch or ottoman, and will hold on with just one hand, more for stability than anything, sort of like a dancer at the bar. She can stand on her own for a couple of seconds, but that is about it.
She has a ready smile, with or without the binky. She likes her Daddy an awful lot, but just likes to play with him across the room. If I am around, she likes for me to be close, which means that she wants me to hold her while she is flirting with someone else. She loves Cybl the cat, and thinks that Dracie is pretty darn cool too. Whenever she hears Cybl, she looks all over excitedly to try to find her. While Cybl complains a lot, she won't leave when BabyA yanks on fur or gets hold of a tail. We're working on "gentle," but overall she's pretty good with her.
She is terrified of the dogs, which I can't understand. She was subjected to a small bath from Yellow Dog once while she was in the carrier, which didn't seem to bother her too much at the time. However, Yellow Dog did startle her not too long ago and she has been scared ever since. Its not a matter of just giving the poor creature dirty looks from my arms, its clinging to me and being near tears. It makes me upset that its this way, since I had always imagined that the dogs would be integrated into our lives more than they are right now. It really is a case of too small of an interior space for two adults, two small children, and two bigger dogs. Outside is a different story, since the dogs can then reach speed and run over the small children. They aren't being mean or aggressive, just being big dogs. Sigh.
All in all, she's still my little light, even though she still occasionally requires me to burn the midnight oil. I can't imagine our world without her.
However, due to some scheduling difficulties, she had her nine month appointment yesterday. Of all the things in my life, I tend to be the most punctual about my children's respective well baby/child appointments. Well, at least the scheduling part. Getting there at the appointed time, or, as I've heard that some people do, getting there prior to the appointed time, is a different story.
Regardless, we made it there in one piece, and she was fairly happy. She's been sleeping pretty rotten during the day lately, and I was a little worried that my choice of a 3:30 appointment wasn't all that wise. For once she cut me some slack (she really is a little taskmaster), and was happy and charming, except for the nurse who did the blood draw for her lead screen and hemoglobin. Big bottom lip, one dainty and dramatic tear down the cheek, looking piteously up at Daddy. Such a princess.
Everything seems to be clipping along with her. She's a bit over 18 lbs (49th) and 28ish inches (88th). Her ears are still OK, and all of the other important parts seemed ok. I did raise my concerns about the near constant runny nose, now approaching three months worth, and the rash that she seemed to have developed overnight. I appreciate that babies have sensitive skin, but I seem to have a sensitive sensitive baby. She's also been running a low-grade fever off and on for quite a while, which has been worrying me about a compromised immune system, or some infection that we were missing. The pediatrician's verdict? Teething. I have a hard time with that, since the next set are nowhere on the horizon/gumline. However, she has been a drool machine lately, so that may be it. I'm just worried about her. I'm going through Motrin like it's going out of style. She always seems to feel so much better with it, it just seems to me like there may be something else in the background. I'll give her another month or so, so we'll see.
Other than her medical status, she's a pretty happy little girl. She has become more brave in her adventures in the crawling arena, and has started to track me down when I plunk her down with her toys and disappear to do something extravagant like go to the bathroom or get ready for work. Very rarely does she complain, she just sets out, little fuzzy head down, and grins up at me with I'm found. She adores her brother, plain and simple. She pulls up on anything remotely vertical, and has only had a couple of good bumps. Funny thing is, most of them have been her toppling over while sitting and managing to miss the rug and hit the hardwood. I hate that little thump noise. She's also bound and determined to be walking before she's a year. Right now she is cruising up and down the couch or ottoman, and will hold on with just one hand, more for stability than anything, sort of like a dancer at the bar. She can stand on her own for a couple of seconds, but that is about it.
She has a ready smile, with or without the binky. She likes her Daddy an awful lot, but just likes to play with him across the room. If I am around, she likes for me to be close, which means that she wants me to hold her while she is flirting with someone else. She loves Cybl the cat, and thinks that Dracie is pretty darn cool too. Whenever she hears Cybl, she looks all over excitedly to try to find her. While Cybl complains a lot, she won't leave when BabyA yanks on fur or gets hold of a tail. We're working on "gentle," but overall she's pretty good with her.
She is terrified of the dogs, which I can't understand. She was subjected to a small bath from Yellow Dog once while she was in the carrier, which didn't seem to bother her too much at the time. However, Yellow Dog did startle her not too long ago and she has been scared ever since. Its not a matter of just giving the poor creature dirty looks from my arms, its clinging to me and being near tears. It makes me upset that its this way, since I had always imagined that the dogs would be integrated into our lives more than they are right now. It really is a case of too small of an interior space for two adults, two small children, and two bigger dogs. Outside is a different story, since the dogs can then reach speed and run over the small children. They aren't being mean or aggressive, just being big dogs. Sigh.
All in all, she's still my little light, even though she still occasionally requires me to burn the midnight oil. I can't imagine our world without her.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
A new milestone
BabyA, like her brother, has a flair for the dramatic. Son started walking on the day of his first birthday party. By the end of the day, he was walking across the dining room, rather steadily. However, it was almost a week after the party that he did it again. With no audience other than mom and dad, where was the motivation?
BabyA started to crawl about a week ago, just little moves. A couple of feet, stop, rest, and sit up, grump, crawl some more. Husband's mom was up on Sunday, along with his sister and two girls. Having four under the age of four in my house was an experience to behold. It also taught me that having three may be a bit more raucous than I had bargained for. (Just for the record, it doesn't scare me, but may cool my baby lust a bit, at least for a while).
Anyway, BabyA put on a crawling symposium. All over the place, little head down with the concentration of effort to move forward. She is a little funny in that every third or fourth set she has to lift her left leg so her foot helps to propel her along, as if she needs a little turbo. She takes really small "steps." Son would make these large, grand movements, but my little flower takes her time, rather petitely. Nevertheless, just like Son, she turned on the charm for the crowd.
However, unlike Son, she has continued on. Yesterday she crawled to me across the play area in her daycare room, motivated by the glint and jingle of my keys. What can I say, the girl likes the shiny stuff! Her main focus usually is to get to something vertical so she can try to pull up. Fortunately for me, she hasn't done it yet. She can get to her knees, and even manages to get one foot under her, but she doesn't have the leg strength yet to get all of the way up. Once she does though, we are done for. She's too tall to leave the crib where it is, so that will have to go down, and I'll have to the balance on the front rail act to put her down at night (yes, I still nurse her to sleep, and no, I don't plan on stopping anytime soon).
She's leaving babydom behind so quickly. One of her daycare ladies told her to slow down and not grow up quite yet. She's a stubborn little thing, so I don't think that she'll be honoring that request anytime soon. I sure wish that she would.
BabyA started to crawl about a week ago, just little moves. A couple of feet, stop, rest, and sit up, grump, crawl some more. Husband's mom was up on Sunday, along with his sister and two girls. Having four under the age of four in my house was an experience to behold. It also taught me that having three may be a bit more raucous than I had bargained for. (Just for the record, it doesn't scare me, but may cool my baby lust a bit, at least for a while).
Anyway, BabyA put on a crawling symposium. All over the place, little head down with the concentration of effort to move forward. She is a little funny in that every third or fourth set she has to lift her left leg so her foot helps to propel her along, as if she needs a little turbo. She takes really small "steps." Son would make these large, grand movements, but my little flower takes her time, rather petitely. Nevertheless, just like Son, she turned on the charm for the crowd.
However, unlike Son, she has continued on. Yesterday she crawled to me across the play area in her daycare room, motivated by the glint and jingle of my keys. What can I say, the girl likes the shiny stuff! Her main focus usually is to get to something vertical so she can try to pull up. Fortunately for me, she hasn't done it yet. She can get to her knees, and even manages to get one foot under her, but she doesn't have the leg strength yet to get all of the way up. Once she does though, we are done for. She's too tall to leave the crib where it is, so that will have to go down, and I'll have to the balance on the front rail act to put her down at night (yes, I still nurse her to sleep, and no, I don't plan on stopping anytime soon).
She's leaving babydom behind so quickly. One of her daycare ladies told her to slow down and not grow up quite yet. She's a stubborn little thing, so I don't think that she'll be honoring that request anytime soon. I sure wish that she would.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
4 Month Appointment
BabyA had her four-month appointment (a week late, but oh well) and all is well.
She was 24 1/2 inches long (99th percentile) and 13lbs, 10oz (66th). I was only partially kidding when I said that I married Husband for his genetics. So far, I have two kids that are above the 95th for height-but then again, I was in the gigantor category up until I was 13, and then, well, things ground to a startlingly quick halt. All 5'2" of me is hoping and praying that BabyA leans towards Husband in that regard.
She had four big, scary, shots and the second of her rotavirus doses. The shots were not at all enjoyable. She started to cry prior to even getting stuck, and after the first one went in, all we got was the silent, purple-faced, howl. I felt so bad for her, knowing how much they must have hurt. I can guarantee that the tylenol will be flowing pretty freely tonight for her poor little legs.
Son was with for this excursion, and contrary to everything that I thought would happen, had a grand old time, and didn't even react to her crying over the shots. He still freaks out when another kid or adult gets too close to her, but a nurse carrying a tray of needles didn't even cause an eyelash to bat. Silly kid.
There's a bunch of other things that I want/need to get down and out of my head, but after being out all last week on jury duty and being selected for a trial, I'm in the weeds trying to get out.
She was 24 1/2 inches long (99th percentile) and 13lbs, 10oz (66th). I was only partially kidding when I said that I married Husband for his genetics. So far, I have two kids that are above the 95th for height-but then again, I was in the gigantor category up until I was 13, and then, well, things ground to a startlingly quick halt. All 5'2" of me is hoping and praying that BabyA leans towards Husband in that regard.
She had four big, scary, shots and the second of her rotavirus doses. The shots were not at all enjoyable. She started to cry prior to even getting stuck, and after the first one went in, all we got was the silent, purple-faced, howl. I felt so bad for her, knowing how much they must have hurt. I can guarantee that the tylenol will be flowing pretty freely tonight for her poor little legs.
Son was with for this excursion, and contrary to everything that I thought would happen, had a grand old time, and didn't even react to her crying over the shots. He still freaks out when another kid or adult gets too close to her, but a nurse carrying a tray of needles didn't even cause an eyelash to bat. Silly kid.
There's a bunch of other things that I want/need to get down and out of my head, but after being out all last week on jury duty and being selected for a trial, I'm in the weeds trying to get out.
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