Happy Halloween
« September 2006 | Main | November 2006 »
October 31, 2006
October 30, 2006
Month Four – or – Immunizations Seriously Suck
I know the “month four” part is a bit late. I was waiting to include her four month check-up with the monthly update. I thought I could type it up as she slept after her appointment. No such luck. She had a very, very rough weekend. So now it’s Monday and she’s technically 4 months and like 2.5 weeks almost 3 and I am just getting around to this now.
Yeah – four month immunizations are not fun. I gave in Friday and called the doctor’s office because she was having such a hard time and the nurse said, “I usually tell all my patients that the 4-month shots are the worst.” Great. Too bad she wasn’t my nurse that day. No one said a word. So a mild fever and lots of sleeping and crying later… she’s back to her normal ways. Though I can’t say the experience was all bad. She actually slept for almost SEVEN hours in a row Thursday night. SEVEN. Let me say that again: SEVEN hours IN A ROW. The baby who barely goes two. While it was wonderful and amazing and great, no I don’t wish her to get nasty shots more often so she’ll sleep.
So four months… Good grief. She’s grown like a weed – cuz that’s what kids do. She weighs 12.9 pounds now and I don’t dare pick up the dogs anymore because they weigh nothing and I am afraid I will break them. And yes, that includes Jordan. Jordan suddenly is so light and small – go figure. She is almost 25 inches long which – okay – she’s two feet tall. That’s not bad, that’s not weird, or strange or odd but I gotta tell yah – the other night I had a dream she started walking like RIGHT NOW and that? That is weird and strange and odd. You picture a little tiny two foot tall, 12 pound itty-bitty thing walking around on her feet. That’s just nasty. It gave me the creeps.
She is constantly getting more and more animated. She’s learning how to use her face and she can make some funny ones. She’s also learning her voice a little more. She was making this very strange throaty “khgeeeee” noise that she just thought was the funniest thing on the planet. She stopped making that noise though and graduated to other – more ear-piercing – noises. (More on that in month five though, I don’t want to get ahead of myself since I’m such a procrastinator.) And along the lines of noises – when she was itty-bitty she would make the cutest, silliest little clucking noise when she would get hungry. I wanted to save that, to get it recorded somehow because it was so funny. But it seems as soon as she learns a new noise, the old ones just aren’t nearly as cool anymore. So I missed the cluck, I missed the alien noises (the one I described above) but, by god, I am getting the squeals!
She’s still flailing about everywhere. Her limbs are always moving and man! Does that girl have a kick! It’s one thing when she kicks the floor or her changing table or her wipes case on her table or her toys but when it’s my face or my gut – ugh – ouch! But it’s hilarious to watch because she gets so very behind every one of them.
Random things I’ve learned during the fourth month:
-Holy cripes! There’s an actual person inside there!
-Babies like to grab lips. Babies like to grab lips with their sharp little fingernails. And pinch. Then pull.
-There’s such a wide variety of baby-smiles and every single one of them is the very cutest EVER.
-Not being able to produce enough milk seriously sucks.
-Trying to do this thousands of miles away from your family also seriously sucks. Not only because you don’t have the support you so desperately need but also because they don’t get to see the faces and hear the noises and see the movements and get kicked in the face and listen to the squeal of delight afterward.
-If you think you want to get something on camera (whether still or video) – DO IT NOW! Because as soon as you realize you want it, they won’t do it anymore.
-Buying diapers still sucks but it’s so wonderful to only be down to jumbo-sized packages once or twice a month as opposed to twice a week!
-What sucks the most – post-partum depression. Yep, that sucks the very most.
-Once they start interacting with you, there’s no going back. They are now the coolest thing in the whole entire universe and they OWN you!
-Always have infant Tylenol in your house. Especially once they have to go through their four-month immunizations, cuz rumor has it, “they’re the worst of the bunch.”
-When your baby doesn’t feel good, your heart doesn’t feel good.
October 24, 2006
Company Always Welcome!
We had some Utah friends come stay with us over the weekend. It was so nice to get to see familiar faces, ones I can actually talk with and do things with and geeze – know. I feel so isolated out here at times but it’s hard to make friends – at least friends to hang out with – when we live so far from where we work so we have no time for anything. Unless we want to drive for even more hours and hours a day and um - no thanks.
Kim and Vic came in late Thursday night. Friday afternoon we went up to Hershey Park to do their Halloween “Hershey Park in the Dark” thing. We took turns riding rides and staying with the baby. It wasn’t nearly as cold as we had expected and the baby was so much more well-behaved than I had expected. She hung out in her stroller, slept a lot, smiled a lot and had all sorts of people ogling over her cute little outfit.
See? Your turn to ogle.
On Saturday, we went in to DC to the Holocaust Museum. We finally worked it out to get tickets to the permanent exhibit after having been there a number of times and missing it. It was very overwhelming. And I wouldn’t even know how to begin to describe it in a format like this so I’m not going to try. We spent much longer there than we had anticipated so we skipped the other sites we had planned for DC (which means they just have to come back and visit again so we can finish).
Sunday was a lazy day, which is nice when you spend hours every day in the car and have people around with whom you’d like to just sit and chat. Dan and Vic stayed home and watched racing and football (go figure) and Kim and I took the baby to the park to take pictures of the fall colors.
They went home Monday afternoon. It always makes me homesick to have visitors come stay with us. I forget how much I enjoy actually having friends and people to talk with. It’s not uncommon for me to go an entire day without talking to anyone but Dan. And, I love him, really, but come on! I know I drive him crazy. I know he loves when there's someone else for me to go on and on with about crafty stuff and baby stuff and girlie stuff and my "lame" TV shows. Dan’s so patient that he listens, but does he care? No. Does he have input on the matter, or an opinion? Not really. Does he wish I had someone else to bore with my insanity? Hell yes. So it’s nice to get that every once in a while and always sad when it goes away. I’m sure it’s a very nice break for him too.
October 18, 2006
I Knew it was Coming
Before I put the baby in day care, I had a conversation with a friend about missing “firsts.” How sad it is and how unfair it is and how ripped off you're bound to feel. When kids spend most of their time in day care, there are things the parents inevitably miss. There was no disillusionment about her holding on to her tricks to show me first. I had a hard time coming to terms with that. Someone else will get to experience the excitement of the first time she does something and not me. Well that’s just not fair. Geeze!
So, yeah, obviously I knew it was coming. Who wouldn’t? Doesn’t mean it hurt any less.
We picked her up from day care yesterday and one of the ladies was telling us how well she was doing with tummy time. “Praise praise - holds her head up strong blah blah. Praise praise - looks around everywhere blah blah. Praise praise - finds us when we say her name...”
Excuse me? WHAT?
So she knows her name. Great. She could have fooled me. Apparently at the young age of four months she has mastered the art of deliberately ignoring her mother. Great.
But it gets better. (In the sense that better really means much much worse!)
She rolled over yesterday. Tummy to back. Twice.
Twerp.
Could she do it for us when we got home? Of course not.
October 17, 2006
Man of the Year
Well it certainly wasn’t Movie of the Year. Or Month. Or Week. Maybe “Day” - since it was the only movie I watched that day.
I wanted to see Man of the Year and figured since it was Robin Williams, Dan would too. I need to trust my husband just a tad more.
I can say it was more entertaining than the last movie we went to see. It was funny, but nothing at all like what I had expected from the previews. The previews conveniently left out half of the storyline. The half that was actually the story. I really like Laura Linney and I really, really like Robin Williams. I don’t know that I necessarily even mind them together. But not here.
It seems like this movie was made to ride the Jon Stewart 2008 wave, to run with the popularity of the comedic take of political commentary. Sure, that’s what movies do – immortalize pop culture on the big screen. Movies are pop culture, I get it. Really. But they’re only good when they pull it off, when they do it well. This one? Not so much. It felt too contrived. They knew they had to do something with this piece of pop culture but didn’t have a clue as to what.
Robin Williams was Robin Williams. (Okay, a very cleaned-up version of himself.) And that was good, he did that well. But the conspiracy theory …. Gakhkk. And I’m all over that stuff! Come on.
I’m just bitter because I feel mislead, that's all. The previews present it as a comedian becoming president and it has all the great lines and the funny-funny. And sure, while that’s kind of what happens, it’s not at all what the movie is about. And the funny, when thrown in with the story, isn’t really all that funny.
And when did Jeff Goldblum get so old???
Did it entertain me for a couple of hours on a Saturday afternoon? Sure. It served its purpose. Am I glad I chose to see it instead of other movies out there? Not really. Do I really care that much about it to blather on and on? Dear God, no. I’m shutting up now.
Take That!
Remember how I wasn't sleeping because of my deep-seeded childhood fears of giants coming in and eating me in my sleep? Well, now I'm back to placing all that "oh my god I haven't slept at all!" blame on the baby.
Woohoo! Giants - DENIED.
Now I just need to get up the energy (and get the baby to sleep for longer than seven whole minutes at a time) to paint it. Yeah, check back in another two months to be updated that it just barely happened...
October 12, 2006
16 Weeks
Shouldn't it get easier to leave her in the mornings? Or at least stay only as difficult as it's yet been? It seems it's getting increasingly difficult to leave her every morning. And I only have to do it three times a week. What in the world am I going to do when I have to go back to work five days a week? I never expected to be this kind of mother... Although, the idea of staying at home with her still scares the hell out of me too. I guess I just spend the next 18 years torn between the two and feeling bad wanting to do either one. But seriously, I thought it would get easier. Geeze.
October 10, 2006
Fears of a Five-Year Old
Reading this entry took me back to a very traumatic day in my life. I believe it was the first day of kindergarten. (If not, it was one of the first few days of kindergarten.)
I came in the door from riding the bus home from school and started to cry. I told my mom I never wanted to ride the bus again and I couldn’t ever go back to school. Being the loving mom that she is, she looked at me like I was nuts and then kindly asked why. So, my little five-year old self told her -
I rode the bus home sitting next to a boy in my class at school and he told me he was going to marry me! I don’t want to get married! I’m only five years old! I can’t get married, Mom. I’m too young and I’d have to move away and live with a boy. Mommmm! Please don’t make me get married. I can’t go back to school! Ever again. He’ll marry me. I – can’t – get – married.
Yes, I was a drama queen even at five. As you can imagine, my mom didn’t have a whole lot of sympathy for me. I did go back to school and I did ride the bus again (but very consciously choosing where I sat for a very long time). I went through the next twelve grades with him and never had to get married to him.
I reminded my mom of this story the other day, who laughed just as hard this time as she did twenty-six years ago. Turns out he recently became an FBI agent. And even still – I am so glad I didn’t have to get married and move away WITH A BOY! at age five.
Silly Dog
She got pissed off at me because I made her get off the pillow that I had dropped on the floor. Somehow climbing in her toybox and falling asleep is supposed to make me feel guilty. Yeah, right - it makes me laugh and take pictures.
October 6, 2006
My daughter, the goofball
I know, I know. "Would you shutup already? Where's the baby? We want pictures of the baby!" Well here you go:
And here she is, doing what she loves to do most, playing with spit bubbles:
Musings at the Mall
I spent some time wandering the mall after having picked up Madeleine’s three-month pictures. (I know! She actually let me leave the house. Can you believe it? …Me neither!) While looking in store windows and at items on shelves and at the clothes hanging on racks, taking in all that is fall, there were a number of things that drove me nuts popped in my head.
First: How the hell am I supposed to decide on ONE perfect holiday dress for the baby? Come on! Do I pick the cutesy red one, the elegant black one, the fancy-schmancy green one, or the girlie cream one? There are too many choices and too many damn cute dresses out there. Every store had a selection of adorable little dresses. Not just one or two, but geeze! - one or two in each color! Could I justify buying more than one? Really? What would the point be in that? Especially when they're $40 a pop! But, just one? I can’t do it. Decisions like that are just cruel.
Second: Stupid hormones. When are they ever going to normalize again? (Ha! I’m a girl and wondering when my hormones are going to normalize. That’s a laugh.) I was in Hallmark looking for birthday gifts and the sappiness of their stuff had tears streaming down my face. Stupid sentimental crap. Sheesh.
Third: When the hell was it okay to skip right from summer clothes to Christmas clothes? Where are the fall clothes? The browns and the greens and the oranges and the sweaters and the layers and the autumn?? It went from pink and white and yellow to navy and red and green in a week! I’m looking for a cute, fall outfit for Madeleine’s October pictures and all I am finding is Christmas crap already. It’s barely October. What? Did the fall stuff come out in July and I missed it already? (Shutup, I’m sure it did. Remember – I haven’t left the house in months?!)
Fourth: Fall. The colors, the smells, the weather, the decorations – I love it all. In Utah, I loved only the winter. And I still love the winter, but being out here I have gained a new appreciation for all of the seasons. The colors on the trees in spring and fall, the complete blanketing of everything (because there are things other than dirt and sagebrush to blanket) with snow in the winter, and even the heat and humidity of the summer are so much more out here than anything in Utah. There is something very calming about fall and winter to me so walking through smelling the smells and seeing the colors with the gloomy sky outside made the quiet baby in the stroller even better.
October 4, 2006
You knew it was coming
It’s well known that I have, on occasion, tormented my dogs for the sake of funny pictures. I’ve put them in the dryer, in boxes, on shelves, atop piles, put endless ridiculous things on the tops of their heads, and so on and so on. So now that I have a child, one could assume I would do the same to her. Well, I haven’t… yet. However, the other night I was trying to change out laundry with her in my arms and it just wasn’t working. So I turned around, leveled out the pile, and sat her on top of the clean clothes in the laundry room. I didn’t do it for the pictures like with the dogs, but it was so cute I had to take a picture. Poor thing. I’m sure it’s only downhill from here…
Does it ever get easier?
I’m doing it all wrong. I just know it. Every where I look I feel like the world is screaming I’m a bad mother. No, my baby is not an unhappy baby. She doesn’t cry all the time (really, she doesn’t). She’s not unhealthy. She’s never put in any threatening situation or certainly isn’t neglected. But the things I do, the decisions I make, the ways I react and the feelings I have all make me feel like a horrible mother.
Reading books and magazines make me think I am doing all the wrong things. Reading the blogs of new mothers and talking to my new-mom friends just makes me think, “What the HELL am I doing so wrong?” and “Why can’t I be better at this?!”
It’s not like I’ve had anyone tell me I’m a bad mom, or point out anything I am doing wrong, or question my decisions or actions. I just feel like maybe I’m really no good at this and wasn’t cut out for it. It’s really hard. I knew it would be – I never expected it to be a walk in the park. But no one tells you how you will never again feel confident in anything you do. I would like to say it’s just the post-partum depression talking, I really would. And who knows, maybe it is. I know it’s normal for mom’s to constantly question and doubt and that it never ends no matter how old the child gets. But this bad? To seriously doubt the simple capability that you will ever do anything right no matter how hard you try?
Maybe I’m just projecting everything else in my life into the one thing I know I want to be good at and putting that under a microscope where nothing is ever safe. Why can’t I be better at it? Why can’t I do it right? Do I just feel like I have a lack of support? Do I just need reaffirmation that I really am doing okay?
I don’t know how to make it better or make it right. But that certainly doesn’t mean I am going to stop trying.
October 2, 2006
I've Been Tamed
Years ago (what often seems like a lifetime ago), I was kind of, well, insane. (I know, you’re thinking, “Years ago??? Woman, you need a reality check, you’re still insane!” But let me finish…) I used to have a bit of a knack – for lack of a better word – for getting noticed. I would wear the craziest things, do the craziest things, say the craziest things. All for attention – for the shock factor. All too often, it worked – it worked very, very well. Debate tournaments, concerts, dances, school newspaper articles, speeches, stories, anything that could allow a chance for a reaction, I took it. And to the extreme on a number of occasions.
Like I said, a lifetime ago. Now I’m Nancy Normal who wouldn’t go out in a knee-length skirt let alone a mini-skirt, a tank top let alone something strapless, say anything that might be remotely attention-catching, do anything that could possibly be considered “egdy” and my hair? Oh no! My hair must be as normal as normal can be. Who the hell is this person is what I want to know!
Dan and I went to a Tool concert over the weekend. A while ago, I would have felt right at home. I would have been one of the people I looked at and thought, “Oh? My God.” Granted, there was a wider variety of people there than you could probably find anywhere else and we weren’t anywhere near the youngest (no surprise there) and no where near the oldest (which was extremely surprising. 60 years-old and listening to Tool? Something is wrong with that picture), we were among the most plain and normal. And while I wasn’t the most conservative looking person there (ew? Me and conservative in the same sentence, what is the world coming to?), I was sad to realize that I am nowhere near as daring as I once was. And it’s not even because I’m a mom now. Over the last few years I have mellowed out something fierce. I’ve gotten boring. It’s so sad. To throw on a corset, a little black skirt and some thigh high boots? Oh God, not on your life! And yet I’m sad that I’m not that person anymore. That I care what others’ perception of me is. That I no longer have the confidence to pull it off (or the body anymore for that matter) even if I wanted to.
While seeing some of the girls there, knowing I used to be one of them – with the insane hair and the barely there clothes and the intense attitude – I realized my time for it really is gone. That’s okay, I’m old, I had my turn and I did have my fun. But now? NOW?! Oh good lord, now I’m going to have to go through it with my daughter! Let’s just say: Mom? Dad? I am sooo sorry! Even she’s half the nut I was, I am in for it. And yet, even if she is as bad as I was, I will be so lucky. Because while I may have been a bit crazy, I knew what I was doing, I knew who I was and I knew where the boundaries were. So while it scares the holy living hell out of me that my daughter just might be the girl with the purple hair, half-shaven head, ripped clothes, pierced god only knows what, knee high boots out with people ten times scarier than that – I will have a small sense of comfort in a: knowing she really is MY daughter and b: she is confident enough in herself to do it and pull it off and strong enough to not care that people look at her and think, “Oh? My God!”