Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Ready...Set...Go!
After years of what felt like living in preparation mode for our lives, everything has come together...Right NOW! A week and a half ago, Rob got a phone call telling him he got his dream job, flying choppers all day, no politics, no babysitting grown ups with an overblown sense of entitlement. He was overjoyed. I was overjoyed. The baby was overjoyed. Mostly we were relieved. We have prayed for this for a long, long time and finally, everything is coming together. We will finally have a place of our own, to raise our children, to plant a garden, to create our own sanctuary of peace on a little piece of land. And oh by the way, he starts in a month. I'm down to four weeks to find a place and move before Rob is commuting from Indianapolis to northern Indiana to work. So maybe we are just going to have one more month of absolute chaos before I can have my oasis of calm.
Monday, December 13, 2010
A New Reign of Terror
A new reign of terror has begun. In the week and a half since I installed baby gates, Gus has had to turn to his creative side to wreak havoc on this house...and my sanity. I'm trying really hard not to stifle his creativity and independence but I refuse to let him trash the house as a recreational activity.
He really is an agreeable baby..."You locked me out of all the fun places so I will adapt!" In the last week and a half he has learned to increase his reach. Since all the fun stuff is up high, he has learned to climb a little. He can now reach about eight inches of our dining room table by simultaneously doing a pull up and swing his feet over to catch a dining room chair to free up one hand for grabbing. Practical implications of this are...he can pull the high chair off the table onto his head, he can get to a beverage left on the table...or food...or coins...or paperclips...or mail...or books...or candles (luckily it wasn't lit!).
He has learned that walking has a lot of potential for increasing his speed and is diligently practicing that. He can now successfully string together about eight steps at a time.
He has learned to operate the radio in his room. He turns it on, blasts the volume and sits in front of it and wails along with the music.
He has learned the joys of smashing smashable foods with his sippy cup, mostly cheerios and animal crackers into little specks of edible powder. Once he has powdered his food he then has the option of licking his fingers and picking up the powder with his spit or sprinkling the carpet with the powder. The ants and cats are a big fan of this activity and we now get to vacuum a couple times a day.
He has earned the love of the cats who suffer so much abuse (I mean love!) at his hands by playing the you lick it, then I lick it, then you lick it, then I lick it game with his food. Gross.
He has figured out how to get around the babyproofing on the entertainment center. He also likes to chew on DVD's.
I had him in the office BRIEFLY with me and he managed to bite a glass ball Christmas ornament in two and lick all the paint off. No he didn't cut himself, yes I am glad I put the Christmas tree behind a gate.
He can open the front closet and dig your salt covered boots out and chew on the soles.
He likes to fold the pages of his books. This is a welcome change from the ripping the pages out and eating them phase but it is a little weird.
And of course, there is the very fun pull all the wipes out of the box one by one game, but again, compared to other things he could be doing, that is relatively easy to deal with so I just make sure there aren't more than an inch or so of wipes in the box in the living room.
The joy he gets from destruction is so real and infectious that it's hard to be mad. My current schedule goes something like this:
Wake up
Change a dirty diaper while setting boundaries about when it's okay to stick your hands in your diaper (wait till after I wipe).
Set boundaries about tooth brush etiquette (no, you can't put my toothbrush in your mouth, or the kitty's mouth).
Set boundaries about food behavior (taking food out of your mouth and throwing it at the cats is bad, especially when it is cereal).
Put him in the kitchen with me while I eat, clean the kitchen, do dishes and start dinner.
Empty the washer of all the recycling that he has transferred from the recycling bin to the washer.
Put him in the living room to play while I work for an hour.
Come survey the destruction.
That puts us up to about morning nap time. I would continue, but considering my morning, I think I will get too depressed if I think about the rest of the day in too much detail.
This is for those of you who have children who are a little older, who talk back, have attitudes and all the other fun stuff that is in store for us down the road. I hope you enjoy hearing about Gus's antics and remembering when your kids were this age and you would seriously pay a babysitter just so you could have a cup of coffee in peace without him trying to grab it and dump it on his head, or burn himself by sticking his hand in it and sloshing it all over the both of you. I hope you enjoy it when I tell you this morning, I put on my coat, hat and boots, took a dining room chair out on my porch that has six inches of snow on it so that I could enjoy my coffee in peace. I hope you remember, I hope that you laugh, and I hope that you take pity on me and volunteer to take him somewhere, anywhere, away from here. Should that ever happen, I have big plans...I'm gonna take a nap!
He really is an agreeable baby..."You locked me out of all the fun places so I will adapt!" In the last week and a half he has learned to increase his reach. Since all the fun stuff is up high, he has learned to climb a little. He can now reach about eight inches of our dining room table by simultaneously doing a pull up and swing his feet over to catch a dining room chair to free up one hand for grabbing. Practical implications of this are...he can pull the high chair off the table onto his head, he can get to a beverage left on the table...or food...or coins...or paperclips...or mail...or books...or candles (luckily it wasn't lit!).
He has learned that walking has a lot of potential for increasing his speed and is diligently practicing that. He can now successfully string together about eight steps at a time.
He has learned to operate the radio in his room. He turns it on, blasts the volume and sits in front of it and wails along with the music.
He has learned the joys of smashing smashable foods with his sippy cup, mostly cheerios and animal crackers into little specks of edible powder. Once he has powdered his food he then has the option of licking his fingers and picking up the powder with his spit or sprinkling the carpet with the powder. The ants and cats are a big fan of this activity and we now get to vacuum a couple times a day.
He has earned the love of the cats who suffer so much abuse (I mean love!) at his hands by playing the you lick it, then I lick it, then you lick it, then I lick it game with his food. Gross.
He has figured out how to get around the babyproofing on the entertainment center. He also likes to chew on DVD's.
I had him in the office BRIEFLY with me and he managed to bite a glass ball Christmas ornament in two and lick all the paint off. No he didn't cut himself, yes I am glad I put the Christmas tree behind a gate.
He can open the front closet and dig your salt covered boots out and chew on the soles.
He likes to fold the pages of his books. This is a welcome change from the ripping the pages out and eating them phase but it is a little weird.
And of course, there is the very fun pull all the wipes out of the box one by one game, but again, compared to other things he could be doing, that is relatively easy to deal with so I just make sure there aren't more than an inch or so of wipes in the box in the living room.
The joy he gets from destruction is so real and infectious that it's hard to be mad. My current schedule goes something like this:
Wake up
Change a dirty diaper while setting boundaries about when it's okay to stick your hands in your diaper (wait till after I wipe).
Set boundaries about tooth brush etiquette (no, you can't put my toothbrush in your mouth, or the kitty's mouth).
Set boundaries about food behavior (taking food out of your mouth and throwing it at the cats is bad, especially when it is cereal).
Put him in the kitchen with me while I eat, clean the kitchen, do dishes and start dinner.
Empty the washer of all the recycling that he has transferred from the recycling bin to the washer.
Put him in the living room to play while I work for an hour.
Come survey the destruction.
That puts us up to about morning nap time. I would continue, but considering my morning, I think I will get too depressed if I think about the rest of the day in too much detail.
This is for those of you who have children who are a little older, who talk back, have attitudes and all the other fun stuff that is in store for us down the road. I hope you enjoy hearing about Gus's antics and remembering when your kids were this age and you would seriously pay a babysitter just so you could have a cup of coffee in peace without him trying to grab it and dump it on his head, or burn himself by sticking his hand in it and sloshing it all over the both of you. I hope you enjoy it when I tell you this morning, I put on my coat, hat and boots, took a dining room chair out on my porch that has six inches of snow on it so that I could enjoy my coffee in peace. I hope you remember, I hope that you laugh, and I hope that you take pity on me and volunteer to take him somewhere, anywhere, away from here. Should that ever happen, I have big plans...I'm gonna take a nap!
Thursday, December 2, 2010
One of Those Mornings
I had this really deep blog planned that has been on my heart all week, then we had one of those mornings.
While pulling beef roast from the crock pot to put in freezer bags, I notice that Gus is too quiet. I go to investigate and find him happily unspooling an entire roll of toilet paper into the toilet with the cat's supervision. He looks up at me and squeals with glee. "Look mommy what I did! For you!" He throws his hands in the air in a very TA DA! fashion.
I sit him in my room and go back to the bathroom to scoop the toilet paper out of the toilet. Our bathroom is a construction zone and I don't really want to deal with an overflow today. I finish cleaning up that mess and go back to the kitchen where Gus is engaging in his new hobby, abstract trash montages which mostly involves removing every piece of trash from the trash can and connecting the themes with anything that has sufficient smearing properties. After the 3-D exhibit is complete he adds a performance art aspect to the show, which lately has involved holding a pop can with just a finger through the opening or some sort of garbage can urban beat scenario. Today was the pop can feat. I give him a pot to play with while I clean up that mess, finish up dealing with the contents of the crock pot, and banish him to the living room to play while I drink a Pepsi.
While I am sitting on the couch drinking my soda, I glance over and he is studiously pouring salt into every crevice of his piano entertainer and his little papasan chair. Where did he find that? I sit down my pop to go rescue the salt shaker and pull out the vacuum. I'm cleaning up that mess when it occurs to me that he isn't interfering with the vacuum. He loves vacuum cleaners. Loves chasing them and hitting them when he catches them. Loves unplugging them. Loves swinging the cord around. I look around and find him sitting on the floor drinking Pepsi by upending the can four inches above his upturned face and open mouth. He looks like he took a shower in Pepsi. He sees me, gives me that "What?" face and gives me the "Watch this cool trick face" as he holds the can off to the side upside down and watches it pour into the carpet. Seeing me coming, he pulls the can to his mouth sticks his tongue in the opening and cuts himself.
I strip down a still screaming bucking baby, wash him off, cuddle him for about 30 seconds, put him in his crib, shut the door and return to the living room. I vacuum and clean carpets with the sweet melody of childish outrage in the background. And that, is why there are no profound thoughts in this head today.
Thank you God for this child who has cured me of my laziness.
Thank you God for this house which shelters us from the cold despite the mess.
Thank you God for the salt that seasons our food.
Thank you God for the toilet paper to wipe our bums.
Thank you God for our garbage, because it means we have more than we need.
Thank you God for being here alone, because it means my husband has a job and I can be here with our baby, our blessing.
While pulling beef roast from the crock pot to put in freezer bags, I notice that Gus is too quiet. I go to investigate and find him happily unspooling an entire roll of toilet paper into the toilet with the cat's supervision. He looks up at me and squeals with glee. "Look mommy what I did! For you!" He throws his hands in the air in a very TA DA! fashion.
I sit him in my room and go back to the bathroom to scoop the toilet paper out of the toilet. Our bathroom is a construction zone and I don't really want to deal with an overflow today. I finish cleaning up that mess and go back to the kitchen where Gus is engaging in his new hobby, abstract trash montages which mostly involves removing every piece of trash from the trash can and connecting the themes with anything that has sufficient smearing properties. After the 3-D exhibit is complete he adds a performance art aspect to the show, which lately has involved holding a pop can with just a finger through the opening or some sort of garbage can urban beat scenario. Today was the pop can feat. I give him a pot to play with while I clean up that mess, finish up dealing with the contents of the crock pot, and banish him to the living room to play while I drink a Pepsi.
While I am sitting on the couch drinking my soda, I glance over and he is studiously pouring salt into every crevice of his piano entertainer and his little papasan chair. Where did he find that? I sit down my pop to go rescue the salt shaker and pull out the vacuum. I'm cleaning up that mess when it occurs to me that he isn't interfering with the vacuum. He loves vacuum cleaners. Loves chasing them and hitting them when he catches them. Loves unplugging them. Loves swinging the cord around. I look around and find him sitting on the floor drinking Pepsi by upending the can four inches above his upturned face and open mouth. He looks like he took a shower in Pepsi. He sees me, gives me that "What?" face and gives me the "Watch this cool trick face" as he holds the can off to the side upside down and watches it pour into the carpet. Seeing me coming, he pulls the can to his mouth sticks his tongue in the opening and cuts himself.
I strip down a still screaming bucking baby, wash him off, cuddle him for about 30 seconds, put him in his crib, shut the door and return to the living room. I vacuum and clean carpets with the sweet melody of childish outrage in the background. And that, is why there are no profound thoughts in this head today.
Thank you God for this child who has cured me of my laziness.
Thank you God for this house which shelters us from the cold despite the mess.
Thank you God for the salt that seasons our food.
Thank you God for the toilet paper to wipe our bums.
Thank you God for our garbage, because it means we have more than we need.
Thank you God for being here alone, because it means my husband has a job and I can be here with our baby, our blessing.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Where Has My Inspiration Gone?
Every night as I lay in bed, the hilarity of my day composes itself into a witty commentary that I make every resolution to post on my blog in the morning. Every morning I wake, my mind...blank. Nothing seems funny. Life is exhausting. The baby is crying. My eyes are full of sand. The cats have a desire to be kicked repeatedly (the only explanation I have for insisting on walking under my feet). By the time I wash up, feed and clothe the baby, feed and recaffeinate myself I have no idea what I was going to write about. This is the main reason I can't seem to post more than once a week. Gus is the light of my life. He fills my days with joy and laughter, then sucks it all back out when he falls asleep, leaving nothing for this blog.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Things Found In My Baby's Diaper (Part I)
For anyone who wished to know and even those who didn't but are reading this and therefore about to find out...
Gus is mobile. In the last couple weeks his diapers have kept a careful record of what he has gotten into for me. It is like a daily report on his activities. The last dirty diaper I changed had a treasure trove of foreign objects. This morning's diaper consisted of:
Standard baby poop
Undigested cat food
A feather from a cat toy
Grass (no idea how he got that)
Hair (mine from the length of it)
Five and a half year old packing tape
Just because it is interesting, I will add a fun one from a couple weeks ago. We opened it up and found little black threads saturating the poop. It took nearly a week and a half of head scratching to determine that it was threads from a bookmark tassel that he largely ingested before I got to it. Incidentally, that diaper also had tape in it but I didn't figure out till today where it came from.
More smelly news as it develops...
Gus is mobile. In the last couple weeks his diapers have kept a careful record of what he has gotten into for me. It is like a daily report on his activities. The last dirty diaper I changed had a treasure trove of foreign objects. This morning's diaper consisted of:
Standard baby poop
Undigested cat food
A feather from a cat toy
Grass (no idea how he got that)
Hair (mine from the length of it)
Five and a half year old packing tape
Just because it is interesting, I will add a fun one from a couple weeks ago. We opened it up and found little black threads saturating the poop. It took nearly a week and a half of head scratching to determine that it was threads from a bookmark tassel that he largely ingested before I got to it. Incidentally, that diaper also had tape in it but I didn't figure out till today where it came from.
More smelly news as it develops...
Monday, September 13, 2010
CART!
I fondly remember the days where I could just stop somewhere, run in and run out. My back has been acting up big time the last month and I am having a lot of difficulty with the car seat. This means that if I want to get a money order I have to unstrap Gus from his seat, carry his exuberant self to the nearest CART! hold him with one hand out of reach of said CART! while I dig for wipes which I never seem to have handy. Once I find the wipes, I pop the container one handed, pull out a string of 10 wipes (they never come out one at a time), use my teeth to separate one from its brothers, wipe the CART! handle down. Put the wipes somewhere till I can stuff them back in the container and prepare to wrestle the baby into the CART!
Now comes the fun part. I position Gus feet down and pointing in the direction of the leg openings in the CART! As I direct his legs towards the openings, he notices that he is going in a CART! and bends at the waist, grabbing the handle and smashing face first into the handhold. He glues his hands, lips and teeth to the handle, resisting mightily my efforts to pry him loose so I can get his feet in. Somewhere around six months his hands grew a layer of that goo that makes those weird hands on string stick to the wall. This has resulted in a new level of difficulty in separating him from undesirable objects. They aren't really stuck to his hands but there is this weird adhesion...anyway, I am getting off track. I give up, let him gnaw on the plastic while I wrestle with his butt and legs and freaky long toes that seems to get caught in every one of the little bars on the CART! I can't wait till winter when he is wearing socks. I get him in the CART! Detach his mouth long enough to buckle him in and let him smash face first back into the handle when released where he will most likely remain till we leave the store.
The last time I actually went for groceries I might as well have dropped breadcrumbs detailing where I had been. There was a trail of slobber everywhere I had gone...Have I hit the rice and pasta aisle yet? Hmm, the floor is dry, must not have been here yet.
This little routine is really exhausting when I am literally going to the store for one thing. Why bother with the CART! you ask? First, he can't stand so I can't just put him down for a second. Skip back up two paragraphs and read the part about sticky hands. Now let me add his propensity for maximum destruction in the minimum allowed time. Holding him in the store, I have to walk down the center of the aisle so he doesn't sweep all the product off the shelves. Even if you don't put him near anything easy to destroy he works an excellent game of subterfuge and manipulation by playing the disinterested baby till you let your guard down.
For example, I tell the lady I need a money order. She tells me the amount, I pull out my wallet, hand her the cash and wait for my receipt and money order. If I don't put my wallet out of reach immediately, it is in his hands either being coated in drool immediately (if I'm lucky) or he is taking everything out of it before I figure out where it went. While I am rescuing and drying my wallet, the lady has put the money order on the counter within reach of the child. By the time I notice the money order, it is balled up and stuffed into his mouth. If you hold the wallet out of reach, he is trying to eat the credit card reader. As one arm is holding him, you bring the hand holding the wallet to pry him loose and tada! he has the wallet and you are trying to wipe the credit card reader and apologize and he has scattered the contents of your wallet and grabbed their container of pens and you take a really really deep breath and vow that the next time you will make your husband get the stupid money order.
And if you need to sign anything forget it. Cashiers never hold the paper still, they just stand and smirk while you struggle so you are forced to use the hand on the arm that is holding the child. This puts the kid in reach of both pen and paper, two of their favorite toys.
I think it will be nice when he can stand, then all I will have to worry about it is chasing him when he takes off. Until then we will use the CART! the best teething toy ever invented and amazing for the sheer size of it and its way of putting a buffer between children and shelves.
Now comes the fun part. I position Gus feet down and pointing in the direction of the leg openings in the CART! As I direct his legs towards the openings, he notices that he is going in a CART! and bends at the waist, grabbing the handle and smashing face first into the handhold. He glues his hands, lips and teeth to the handle, resisting mightily my efforts to pry him loose so I can get his feet in. Somewhere around six months his hands grew a layer of that goo that makes those weird hands on string stick to the wall. This has resulted in a new level of difficulty in separating him from undesirable objects. They aren't really stuck to his hands but there is this weird adhesion...anyway, I am getting off track. I give up, let him gnaw on the plastic while I wrestle with his butt and legs and freaky long toes that seems to get caught in every one of the little bars on the CART! I can't wait till winter when he is wearing socks. I get him in the CART! Detach his mouth long enough to buckle him in and let him smash face first back into the handle when released where he will most likely remain till we leave the store.
The last time I actually went for groceries I might as well have dropped breadcrumbs detailing where I had been. There was a trail of slobber everywhere I had gone...Have I hit the rice and pasta aisle yet? Hmm, the floor is dry, must not have been here yet.
This little routine is really exhausting when I am literally going to the store for one thing. Why bother with the CART! you ask? First, he can't stand so I can't just put him down for a second. Skip back up two paragraphs and read the part about sticky hands. Now let me add his propensity for maximum destruction in the minimum allowed time. Holding him in the store, I have to walk down the center of the aisle so he doesn't sweep all the product off the shelves. Even if you don't put him near anything easy to destroy he works an excellent game of subterfuge and manipulation by playing the disinterested baby till you let your guard down.
For example, I tell the lady I need a money order. She tells me the amount, I pull out my wallet, hand her the cash and wait for my receipt and money order. If I don't put my wallet out of reach immediately, it is in his hands either being coated in drool immediately (if I'm lucky) or he is taking everything out of it before I figure out where it went. While I am rescuing and drying my wallet, the lady has put the money order on the counter within reach of the child. By the time I notice the money order, it is balled up and stuffed into his mouth. If you hold the wallet out of reach, he is trying to eat the credit card reader. As one arm is holding him, you bring the hand holding the wallet to pry him loose and tada! he has the wallet and you are trying to wipe the credit card reader and apologize and he has scattered the contents of your wallet and grabbed their container of pens and you take a really really deep breath and vow that the next time you will make your husband get the stupid money order.
And if you need to sign anything forget it. Cashiers never hold the paper still, they just stand and smirk while you struggle so you are forced to use the hand on the arm that is holding the child. This puts the kid in reach of both pen and paper, two of their favorite toys.
I think it will be nice when he can stand, then all I will have to worry about it is chasing him when he takes off. Until then we will use the CART! the best teething toy ever invented and amazing for the sheer size of it and its way of putting a buffer between children and shelves.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Adventures in Babyproofing
Apparently, I am not smarter than a seven month old.
Rob and I, trying not to be hovering overprotective parents, agreed to babyproof minimally as possible to ensure Gus's safety. Other than locking up the chemicals, we did nothing. We figured we would watch what he got into as he increased in mobility and we would address safety (or destruction) issues as they arose. Here is what we have learned we needed in the last month.
Sliding outlet covers for the outlets he has access to: he likes to try and stick his tongue in the sockets
All cords out of sight behind heavy furniture: he like to chew on them
Everything we don't want going in his mouth needs to be at least three feet off the ground
Gates needed for the office: he like to pull books off of shelves and chew on them and computer buttons are fun to push.
Lock for the freezer. It is fun to open and close, or open and not close
Gate for pet area: cat food is yummy
Need to keep doors closed to all the rooms and closets.
Basically he shows me something new he can get into everyday. Yesterday we pulled all the sheets out of the bottom 2.5 feet of the linen closet and unfolded them, got our self wedged between the cupboard and the toilet in the bathroom, pulled the drying rack over on ourselves, tried to rip down the curtains in the office. All this and he isn't even crawling or scooting yet. I am little baffled at how he manages to get around so efficiently. The bathroom feat was accomplished in the time it takes to switch laundry from the washer to the dryer, the linen closet while I went to grab the trash cans from the curb. Maybe we should just get over with and just babyproof the whole house.
Rob and I, trying not to be hovering overprotective parents, agreed to babyproof minimally as possible to ensure Gus's safety. Other than locking up the chemicals, we did nothing. We figured we would watch what he got into as he increased in mobility and we would address safety (or destruction) issues as they arose. Here is what we have learned we needed in the last month.
Sliding outlet covers for the outlets he has access to: he likes to try and stick his tongue in the sockets
All cords out of sight behind heavy furniture: he like to chew on them
Everything we don't want going in his mouth needs to be at least three feet off the ground
Gates needed for the office: he like to pull books off of shelves and chew on them and computer buttons are fun to push.
Lock for the freezer. It is fun to open and close, or open and not close
Gate for pet area: cat food is yummy
Need to keep doors closed to all the rooms and closets.
Basically he shows me something new he can get into everyday. Yesterday we pulled all the sheets out of the bottom 2.5 feet of the linen closet and unfolded them, got our self wedged between the cupboard and the toilet in the bathroom, pulled the drying rack over on ourselves, tried to rip down the curtains in the office. All this and he isn't even crawling or scooting yet. I am little baffled at how he manages to get around so efficiently. The bathroom feat was accomplished in the time it takes to switch laundry from the washer to the dryer, the linen closet while I went to grab the trash cans from the curb. Maybe we should just get over with and just babyproof the whole house.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
A Prickly Sort of Week
Gus STILL not sleeping. I thought he was just in a new habit with the late night wake ups but I checked his mouth today and lo and behold, three more teeth (or four, his patience for mouth prodding rapidly disappeared). So apparently this isn't just a desire to see me go completely nuts from sleep deprivation on his part. The last couple days have been of the fussy variety. It goes like this:
Gus: Wah!
Me: What's wrong baby? Are you hungry? Do you want to nurse?
Gus: Wah!
Me: What about food?
Gus: Wah!
Me: Are you tired?
Gus: Wah!
Me: Do you want to sit?
Gus: Wah!
Me: Do you want to lay down?
Gus: Wah!
Me: Here, how about a toy?
Gus: Wah!
Me: Do you want to be held?
Gus: Wah!
Me: Diaper?
Gus: Wah!
Me: Are you sure you don't want to sleep?
Gus: Wah!
Me: Oh, you want to lay in your crib and scream with door closed! Got it!
Gus: Wah!
Me: What's wrong baby? Are you hungry? Do you want to nurse?
Gus: Wah!
Me: What about food?
Gus: Wah!
Me: Are you tired?
Gus: Wah!
Me: Do you want to sit?
Gus: Wah!
Me: Do you want to lay down?
Gus: Wah!
Me: Here, how about a toy?
Gus: Wah!
Me: Do you want to be held?
Gus: Wah!
Me: Diaper?
Gus: Wah!
Me: Are you sure you don't want to sleep?
Gus: Wah!
Me: Oh, you want to lay in your crib and scream with door closed! Got it!
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Quick update
Rundown of the last couple weeks...
1. Joe got married, I got a new sister! Yay!
2. We all got sick in TN...not yay!
3. Gus turned six months old
4. Gus went on his first camping trip and handled the great outdoors like a champ!
5. Gus cut his first two teeth
6. We are all still sick...yuck
7. Gus is still in his not sleeping holding pattern
8. Gus hit 29 inches, the limit on the current car seat but I feel too yucky to go shopping for a bigger one
9. Spite family reunion where we got to eat lots of middle eastern food and meet all the new cousins that have entered the world in the last year or so
10. Four days back from camping and the laundry is still not caught up from camping (see no., 6 above)
11. Chana moved to Germany taking my favorite niece and brother-in-law with her...sad :(
12. I acknowledged defeat in the gardening sector
13. We are still in geographical limbo
14. We got Gus's six month photos done..Thanks Gail! He is adorable...as always
Well there is my five minute update. When things settle down and I feel better I will post more.
1. Joe got married, I got a new sister! Yay!
2. We all got sick in TN...not yay!
3. Gus turned six months old
4. Gus went on his first camping trip and handled the great outdoors like a champ!
5. Gus cut his first two teeth
6. We are all still sick...yuck
7. Gus is still in his not sleeping holding pattern
8. Gus hit 29 inches, the limit on the current car seat but I feel too yucky to go shopping for a bigger one
9. Spite family reunion where we got to eat lots of middle eastern food and meet all the new cousins that have entered the world in the last year or so
10. Four days back from camping and the laundry is still not caught up from camping (see no., 6 above)
11. Chana moved to Germany taking my favorite niece and brother-in-law with her...sad :(
12. I acknowledged defeat in the gardening sector
13. We are still in geographical limbo
14. We got Gus's six month photos done..Thanks Gail! He is adorable...as always
Well there is my five minute update. When things settle down and I feel better I will post more.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Two Months
We finally got the computer back yesterday after not having it for two months. All I want to do is be on the Internet, catching up. My son, however, decided that instead, we are going to baby-proof this week. That's right folks, he's mobile! He has mastered the scooting roll and can cover distances of ten feet or so in less than two minutes. What is a scooting roll you ask? The scooting roll is where you draw your knees to you chest as you roll from your back to your belly. As you complete the roll to the stomach, you launch yourself forward off your knees and face-plant in the carpet. If you do it right you can gain 3-6 inches on your forward distance with each roll. He is sporting his first goose egg from pulling the camera with a dangling cord down on himself so our days of leaving him unsupervised on the floor while we shower or cook dinner are over until I get this house baby-proofed at the lowest level.
It is amazing to me how each child discovers mobility in a different way. Each baby I have interacted with has learned to scoot and then crawl with a different technique: traditional crawl, stiff-legged crawl, one-leg-stiff-the-other-bent crawl, the army crawl, the frog scoot and plop, the drag-your-legs-behind-you crawl, the swimming crawl. I wonder if Gus will show me a new one.
It is amazing to me how each child discovers mobility in a different way. Each baby I have interacted with has learned to scoot and then crawl with a different technique: traditional crawl, stiff-legged crawl, one-leg-stiff-the-other-bent crawl, the army crawl, the frog scoot and plop, the drag-your-legs-behind-you crawl, the swimming crawl. I wonder if Gus will show me a new one.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Bad Mommy
Tomorrow is Gus's four month check up. I have been supposed to have been writing down my questions, of which I have had million over the last two months. Ummm...can we say last minute cramming. I feel like I'm in college. I remember a couple questions and I am sure that the rest will occur to me as soon as I get home. Bad mommy...bad bad mommy.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
I'm Over It
I have finally hit that point...
I have a houseful of company this weekend and I didn't clean...at all. Either that means that I am finally keeping my house in a semi-reasonable state, or that I know the people coming love me no matter what my house looks like, or that switch has finally flipped in me that just doesn't have the inclination or energy to care anymore. Or all of the above...
Anyway prepping for this visit was very easy...stock the fridge, wipe the bathrooms, hang out clean towels. Yay!
I have a houseful of company this weekend and I didn't clean...at all. Either that means that I am finally keeping my house in a semi-reasonable state, or that I know the people coming love me no matter what my house looks like, or that switch has finally flipped in me that just doesn't have the inclination or energy to care anymore. Or all of the above...
Anyway prepping for this visit was very easy...stock the fridge, wipe the bathrooms, hang out clean towels. Yay!
Monday, May 10, 2010
Sarah Vs the Stuff (Part III)
The great unstuffing continues...
I told Sarah I would scrapbook with her. Easy right? I dug out the boxes with my photos in them. Not only do I have pictures from when I was four mixed in with college photos mixed in with wedding photos, I have pictures of everyone in my dorm one year at church camp to some guys I had crushes on when I was eight. Needless to say I spent the evening looking through my life in photos and pitching a good deal of it. Pictures of houses I thought were cool looking to a million pictures of cats being cute...seriously. I am only about a third of the way through a rough sort. On the upside when I am done I will be ready to finally tackle getting my wedding pictures in an album. Seems like that was on the to do list from five years ago.
I told Sarah I would scrapbook with her. Easy right? I dug out the boxes with my photos in them. Not only do I have pictures from when I was four mixed in with college photos mixed in with wedding photos, I have pictures of everyone in my dorm one year at church camp to some guys I had crushes on when I was eight. Needless to say I spent the evening looking through my life in photos and pitching a good deal of it. Pictures of houses I thought were cool looking to a million pictures of cats being cute...seriously. I am only about a third of the way through a rough sort. On the upside when I am done I will be ready to finally tackle getting my wedding pictures in an album. Seems like that was on the to do list from five years ago.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Mommy's Here
I am standing in the midst of my living room, spit-up rags piled next to the couch from last night, the sink filled with stained clothing soaking, the washer's beeping letting me know the diapers are ready for another wash cycle, the same lullaby playing for the seventeenth time today. Somewhere in the midst of a crying bout triggered by the dual injustices of teething and a localized diaper rash it hit me.
I love my job.
All the education I have had could not have prepared me for a career as well as God and nature have equipped me to be a mother. How else would my arms know the exact way he needs to be held and patted to calm him. He looks at me with those teary eyes and our hearts speak. What hurts? Your bottom? Your teeth? Your belly? Do you just need to be held? Talked to? Smiled at? Do you just need to be here with me, sitting with me, breathing the same air as me? Mommy just stop. Take a second and stay with me.
What job could be more mundane? What job could be more significant?
In the end it doesn't matter that the house isn't perfect or that we are nuking something frozen for dinner or that I will be running laundry late into the night. It doesn't matter that most of the last three days were spent with his misery pouring out to cover us both. His smiles of joy and appreciation at my presence despite his pain make this job worth waking up for. As he lays his head against my shoulder I can't think of a single thing on my to do list more important and I hear the inane babble of moms everywhere coming out of mouth.
"Shhh...mommy's here, mommy's here."
Happy mother's day to all you amazing women out there, but especially to my mother who has been nothing short of amazing for 26 years! By your example, you have prepared me for motherhood, mentally and emotionally. Thank you!
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Three Months
Gus was three months old on Monday. My Mother's Day/Anniversary/Christmas present was a really, really awesome camera. Luckily he was having a very cooperative day and laid on his belly for almost twenty minutes while I played with my new toy.
I love that smile!
This is really the first time we have tolerated being on our belly for more that a couple minutes. The holding himself up on his arms in new too.
He looks like a little boy in so many pictures I love to see ones where he still looks like a baby.
This is his new face he makes all the time. He is teething and too little to hold onto stuff so he just chews his own gums.
Trying to sit up...
Watching...
Uh-Oh!Our naked session was cut short when he decided that now was the perfect time to have his once daily poo...
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Gus and the Bedtime Story
I told Gus a made up bedtime story tonight...practicing for when it will be in demand. For the record, I am a terrible story-maker-upper. After that terrible story about Gus and the Cat and the baby Kangaroo that lived on the moon, I read him some poems from 'Where the Sidewalk Ends.' One in particular he loved, just laughed and laughed and laughed.
Gus's favorite Silverstein poem:
The Dirtiest Man in the World
Oh I'm Dirty Dan, the world's dirtiest man,
I never have taken a shower.
I can't see my shirt--it's so covered with dirt,
And my ears have enough to grow flowers.
But the water is either a little too hot,
Or else it's a little too cold.
I'm musty and dusty and patchy and scratchy
And mangy and covered with mold.
But the water is always a little too hot,
Or else it's a little too cold.
I live in a pen with five hogs and a hen
And three squizzly lizards who creep in
My bed, and they itch as I squirm, and I twitch
In the cruddy old sheets that I sleep in.
If you looked down my throat with a flashlight, you'd note
That my insides are coated with rust.
I creak when I walk and I squeak when I talk,
And each time I sneeze I blow dust.
The thought of a towel and some soap makes me howl,
And when people have something to tell me
They don't come and tell it--they stand back and yell it.
I think they're afraid they might smell me.
The bedbugs that leap on me sing me to sleep,
And the garbage flies buzz me awake.
They're the best friends I've found and I fear they might drown
So I never go too near a lake.
Each evening at nine I sit down to dine
With the termites who live in my chair,
And I joke with the bats and have intimate chats
With the cooties who crawl through my hair.
I'd brighten my life if I just found a wife,
But I fear that that never will be
Until I can find a girl, gentle and kind,
With a beautiful face and a sensitive mind,
Who sparkles and twinkles and glistens and shines--
And who's almost as dirty as me.
Children have the best taste don't they...what a wonderful writer this man was!
Gus's favorite Silverstein poem:
The Dirtiest Man in the World
Oh I'm Dirty Dan, the world's dirtiest man,
I never have taken a shower.
I can't see my shirt--it's so covered with dirt,
And my ears have enough to grow flowers.
But the water is either a little too hot,
Or else it's a little too cold.
I'm musty and dusty and patchy and scratchy
And mangy and covered with mold.
But the water is always a little too hot,
Or else it's a little too cold.
I live in a pen with five hogs and a hen
And three squizzly lizards who creep in
My bed, and they itch as I squirm, and I twitch
In the cruddy old sheets that I sleep in.
If you looked down my throat with a flashlight, you'd note
That my insides are coated with rust.
I creak when I walk and I squeak when I talk,
And each time I sneeze I blow dust.
The thought of a towel and some soap makes me howl,
And when people have something to tell me
They don't come and tell it--they stand back and yell it.
I think they're afraid they might smell me.
The bedbugs that leap on me sing me to sleep,
And the garbage flies buzz me awake.
They're the best friends I've found and I fear they might drown
So I never go too near a lake.
Each evening at nine I sit down to dine
With the termites who live in my chair,
And I joke with the bats and have intimate chats
With the cooties who crawl through my hair.
I'd brighten my life if I just found a wife,
But I fear that that never will be
Until I can find a girl, gentle and kind,
With a beautiful face and a sensitive mind,
Who sparkles and twinkles and glistens and shines--
And who's almost as dirty as me.
Children have the best taste don't they...what a wonderful writer this man was!
Friday, April 30, 2010
Sarah Vs the Stuff (Part II)
Day Two of the great unstuffing...
I tackled the underwear drawer and dug out all the Outback stuff I had and took it in. Letting go of the Outback stuff was very sad for me. It made the whole leaving thing feel very permanent. It hit me finally that I'm really not going back. I was kinda bummed about it afterward and Kyle asked why I didn't keep my flair for the memories. I had had the same conversation with myself when deciding whether to take it in or not. Everything in my house has memories associated with it. How will we ever get rid of stuff if we hold on to everything that ever meant something to us? In twenty years will I be sad about getting rid of my flair collection? Probably not. Does it make me sad now? Absolutely.
Rob and I chatted last night about what we want for the house. We have come to the mutual understanding that our stuff is driving us crazy and he agreed to help me unstuff us. We want a simple life. Two or three hobbies that we can actually do because we can find the stuff for them, a really fabulous kitchen, serene and calm bedrooms, a living space that is easy to maintain, and a garage that doesn't kill you when you walk through it. How hard can this possibly be?
I tackled the underwear drawer and dug out all the Outback stuff I had and took it in. Letting go of the Outback stuff was very sad for me. It made the whole leaving thing feel very permanent. It hit me finally that I'm really not going back. I was kinda bummed about it afterward and Kyle asked why I didn't keep my flair for the memories. I had had the same conversation with myself when deciding whether to take it in or not. Everything in my house has memories associated with it. How will we ever get rid of stuff if we hold on to everything that ever meant something to us? In twenty years will I be sad about getting rid of my flair collection? Probably not. Does it make me sad now? Absolutely.
Rob and I chatted last night about what we want for the house. We have come to the mutual understanding that our stuff is driving us crazy and he agreed to help me unstuff us. We want a simple life. Two or three hobbies that we can actually do because we can find the stuff for them, a really fabulous kitchen, serene and calm bedrooms, a living space that is easy to maintain, and a garage that doesn't kill you when you walk through it. How hard can this possibly be?
How Does Your Garden Grow or: Sarah Vs. The Black Thumb (Part III)
I went out today to weed my garden and settled for admiring how many plants are coming up instead. I'm telling myself it will be easier to weed after the day and a half of rain we are supposedly going to get. So I didn't feel like it was a total loss, I did water the plants in the garage as I have a bad tendency to kill them a week or so before I end up planting them.
The daisies are blooming, I will have to post some pictures at some point to prove that I managed to grow something...
The daisies are blooming, I will have to post some pictures at some point to prove that I managed to grow something...
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Sarah Vs. the Black Thumb (Part II)
Status update:
Back flower bed ripped up, landlord planted shrubs, I planted bulbs which are coming up (yay!)
Front flower beds weeded, some plants relocated, lilac bush planted, daisies starting to bloom, roses pruned.
Garage flowers and veggie starters look pretty good, I had about a 70% success rate with the seedlings and will probably plant them next week.
I have green stuff that doesn't look sad!
Back flower bed ripped up, landlord planted shrubs, I planted bulbs which are coming up (yay!)
Front flower beds weeded, some plants relocated, lilac bush planted, daisies starting to bloom, roses pruned.
Garage flowers and veggie starters look pretty good, I had about a 70% success rate with the seedlings and will probably plant them next week.
I have green stuff that doesn't look sad!
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