I'm a terrible, horrible, awful mother. Yesterday, I did the unthinkable.
I fed my 8-month-old a Mint Oreo Cookie, and I'm not sorry I did it.
What led me to this madness? What terrible events could have occurred for me to do such a dastardly thing? Lack of sleep my friends. Extreme lack of sleep.
You see, Gracie was a little out of whack, sleeping-wise. It started about two weeks ago when she got a bit of a cold. She kept waking up in the night either with a coughing fit or because her poor little head was all plugged up and she couldn't breathe. If she was tired enough, we would rock in the rocking chair until she fell asleep again. But mostly, once she was awake there was no going back to sleep, no matter how hard I tried. So we would be up for a couple hours in the middle of the night until she could sleep again; and then she would need a big nap the next day.
Pretty soon, the daytime naps were getting longer and the night-time waking up time was getting longer too, until we got to the point where she was sleeping most of the day away, then waking up in the evening and not going to bed until 2 a.m., then waking up again at 6 a.m. And Denice was starting to get grumpy. I have a really hard time taking naps in the daytime because, well, I have things to do. And living on four hours of sleep just wasn't doing it for me.
By Sunday, I was at the end of my rope. I needed some sleep. I decided since Gracie was over her cold, I was going to keep her awake for most of the day. And as I was sitting next to her on the floor, eating a couple of Mint Oreo Cookies for a little sugar rush to keep me awake, a little thought quietly ran through my head: "If these cookies are keeping ME awake…"
I pulled another Oreo out of the package, took one of the cookie pieces off and hesitated for a moment as I contemplated if this really was a good idea, or if it was my sleep deprived brain trying to convince me it was a good idea -- and Gracie made the decision for me. She grabbed the cookie right out of my hand and stuffed it directly into her mouth. Well, mostly she just sucked on the icing because she doesn't have any teeth yet, but you get the idea.
So I let my Gracie have sugar for the first time, and boy did it work! She stayed awake most of the day, went to bed at the very reasonable hour of 10 p.m., and slept straight through until 8:30 a.m., just like she used to do.
And I'm not sorry. Incredibly guilt-ridden for feeding my child junk at such a young age -- you betcha. But sorry? Can't say that I am.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Snotty Kleenexes everywhere…
So tired. So very tired. Gracie sick, not sleeping. Mommy not sleeping either. No time to shower, let alone blog. Was I this tired when she was brand new and not sleeping? I don't remember -- so I guess I just answered my own question. Must sleep now. Will write later.
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
The sweetest word in the English language:
"Mum…Mum…Mum…Mum…," said quietly by your 8-month-old while she's snuggling into your arms as she drifts off to sleep.
Oh, I had the best afternoon with Gracie today. She was grumpy this morning, so I managed to get her to take her afternoon nap early, and she woke up in the best mood!
She giggled and she smiled and she played with me for hours. I gave her a soda cracker for a snack and she took one bite, then shoved it in my mouth so I could have a bite, then a bite for her and a bite for me until it was all gone. We've been working on kisses lately -- usually I ask her if I can have one and then she gives me one, but today she gave me many slobbery baby kisses without being asked. And then she snuggled in when it was time for sleep and just kept saying mum…mum…mum… until she was sound asleep in my arms.
Boy do I love my life. Crazy busy and tiring, yes, but I wouldn't trade it for the world.
Oh, I had the best afternoon with Gracie today. She was grumpy this morning, so I managed to get her to take her afternoon nap early, and she woke up in the best mood!
She giggled and she smiled and she played with me for hours. I gave her a soda cracker for a snack and she took one bite, then shoved it in my mouth so I could have a bite, then a bite for her and a bite for me until it was all gone. We've been working on kisses lately -- usually I ask her if I can have one and then she gives me one, but today she gave me many slobbery baby kisses without being asked. And then she snuggled in when it was time for sleep and just kept saying mum…mum…mum… until she was sound asleep in my arms.
Boy do I love my life. Crazy busy and tiring, yes, but I wouldn't trade it for the world.
Thursday, October 04, 2007
It's going by so fast…
So I'm shopping at the Real Canadian Superstore the other day, and it was totally New Baby Central. Everywhere I looked, bleary-eyed new mommies were wandering sleepily around the grocery store, and, as usual, I was trying to sneak a peek at all the teeny weeny babies sleeping in their infant seats. Not because I'm nosy, but because I just can't resist a teeny tiny baby.
Anyway, I'm looking at all these new mommies and I realized something very big: I'm no longer a member of the Bleary-Eyed New Mommy Club. My kid is big. Huge. Sitting up in the front of the shopping cart, eating the Gerber Graduates I'm doling out and trying to grab everything I take off the shelf so she can see what it is, then chew on it.
These days, unless she's having a particularly bad teething day and won't go to sleep, the only reason for me to be bleary-eyed is that I decided to stay up to watch the Colbert Report, which doesn't come on until 12:30 a.m. in our part of the country. I'm very well rested, most days I get to have a shower and put on make-up, and I hardly ever have to leave the house in a shirt that's been spit-up on.
And I didn't even notice it happening.
When Gracie was new, other new mommies and I would give each other the look as we passed each other. You know, the look that said, "I don't know you, but I understand that you are as tired as I am and I feel your pain." Then I would look at the mommies with big babies and think that that day was a lifetime away. Good Lord, it only took 8 months.
Where did the time go? And more importantly, is every year going to go by this fast?
Anyway, I'm looking at all these new mommies and I realized something very big: I'm no longer a member of the Bleary-Eyed New Mommy Club. My kid is big. Huge. Sitting up in the front of the shopping cart, eating the Gerber Graduates I'm doling out and trying to grab everything I take off the shelf so she can see what it is, then chew on it.
These days, unless she's having a particularly bad teething day and won't go to sleep, the only reason for me to be bleary-eyed is that I decided to stay up to watch the Colbert Report, which doesn't come on until 12:30 a.m. in our part of the country. I'm very well rested, most days I get to have a shower and put on make-up, and I hardly ever have to leave the house in a shirt that's been spit-up on.
And I didn't even notice it happening.
When Gracie was new, other new mommies and I would give each other the look as we passed each other. You know, the look that said, "I don't know you, but I understand that you are as tired as I am and I feel your pain." Then I would look at the mommies with big babies and think that that day was a lifetime away. Good Lord, it only took 8 months.
Where did the time go? And more importantly, is every year going to go by this fast?
Sunday, September 23, 2007
How to scare the crap out of your husband…
So, I'm rocking Gracie to sleep in our rocking chair in the living room, singing my song of choice, "You are my Sunshine." I usually just sing the first verse of the song a few times and skip the second one, since it's really rather depressing, and then once I'm sick of singing that one over and over I just start humming.
Anyway, I'm rocking and I'm singing, and I notice that over yonder on the couch, hubby is also starting to get some droopy eyes. So I decide to change the lyrics a little bit, just to be funny. So my next time around the same verse, I start singing: "You're my two sunshines, my only sunshines. You both make me happy, when skies are grey…"
"WHAT????" Says hubby, now sitting straight up on the couch, no longer sleepy at all.
"What do you mean, what?" I say, clearly not understanding what's wrong.
"What do you mean BOTH?" He says, getting a little bit panicky now.
"Gracie and you. I thought you were looking a little sleepy over there."
"Oh thank god! I thought you were pregnant again!"
Anyway, I'm rocking and I'm singing, and I notice that over yonder on the couch, hubby is also starting to get some droopy eyes. So I decide to change the lyrics a little bit, just to be funny. So my next time around the same verse, I start singing: "You're my two sunshines, my only sunshines. You both make me happy, when skies are grey…"
"WHAT????" Says hubby, now sitting straight up on the couch, no longer sleepy at all.
"What do you mean, what?" I say, clearly not understanding what's wrong.
"What do you mean BOTH?" He says, getting a little bit panicky now.
"Gracie and you. I thought you were looking a little sleepy over there."
"Oh thank god! I thought you were pregnant again!"
Monday, September 17, 2007
Best Thing Ever!
Wanna see the smiling-est baby that ever there was? Come on over to my house, and see the incredible transformation of the baby who last week wouldn't stop crying, and today won't stop smiling!
Yesterday we went to pick up the walker my hubby's parents bought us, and I tell you it's the best thing that ever happened to Gracie. My baby, who has never been a very smiley child, is now grinning ear to ear. I plunk her in that thing and she follows me wherever I go, grinning her big gummy grin and saying: "Mamamamamamama!"
Also fun: squealing with delight when she spots one of our cats, then chasing after them (and pretty fast!) until the kitty in question finds some place to go that the walker can't. Poor cats didn't know what hit them.
It's days like this I wish I had a digital camera so I could show you all the pure bliss on Gracie's face.
Boy, what a difference a day makes.
Yesterday we went to pick up the walker my hubby's parents bought us, and I tell you it's the best thing that ever happened to Gracie. My baby, who has never been a very smiley child, is now grinning ear to ear. I plunk her in that thing and she follows me wherever I go, grinning her big gummy grin and saying: "Mamamamamamama!"
Also fun: squealing with delight when she spots one of our cats, then chasing after them (and pretty fast!) until the kitty in question finds some place to go that the walker can't. Poor cats didn't know what hit them.
It's days like this I wish I had a digital camera so I could show you all the pure bliss on Gracie's face.
Boy, what a difference a day makes.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Thank you, thank you very much!
Thank you all so much for your kind words and suggestions this week. Boy did I need them. I was kind of getting a little nutsy, home all alone all day with a frustrated baby who doesn't understand why Mommy is so grumpy.
I tried a number of your suggestions. Jody, I tried putting her in my Peapod Cuddly Wrap to carry her around with me, but she hated it just as much as she did when she was teeny. So instead, I just carry her for awhile and do everything one handed. If I'm unloading the dishwasher I give her one of her plastic spoons to play with while I finish. And while doing the laundry I put her in the basket on top of the clothes and carry her up and down the two floors -- she thinks that's hilarious! The first day carrying a 22-pound seven-month-old around with one arm all day was a little tough, but boy you should feel my bicep now!
I also decided that she's probably bored with playing with the same toys and hanging out doing the same things all day long. I'm a bit of a homebody, and staying home for 4 or 5 days at a stretch really doesn't bother me. But I think Gracie needs a little extra stimulation. So I signed us up for the public library's BabyTime (she cried through the entire first session), and I'm looking into taking her to the pool (Julie will be proud). Since I'm currently on foot while Nate's truck is getting fixed, I've also taken her on a walk every day this week, and she really seemed to like that.
Also, shortly after I wrote that post, my inlaws called to say they bought us a walker while they were down in the States! Yayyy! We will be going to pick it up in a few days, but just knowing that it is coming is making me a happy lady. We do have an exersaucer and a jolly jumper, but she's been in them since she was three months old and is sick of them. Hopefully this walker will make things better.
So thank you all very much. All those things helped, but I also got to the bottom of WHY I was getting so nutsy and grumpy. Because honestly, this last 7 months have been the best 7 months of my life. Turns out, I really love being a stay-at-home Mom. For the first time in so many years I can't remember, I actually want to get out of bed in the morning. I spend all day playing with a sweet little cutie pie who seems to like my singing voice and loves it when I tickle her and flip her upside down. When she's sleeping I do some housework, bake some cookies, water my flowers, do a little redecorating -- all the things I wanted to do when I was working but didn't have time.
So when all the other women around me are talking about how they can't wait to get back to work, I always wonder why on earth you would WANT to go back to never-ending stress and 60 hour weeks. And that's when it hit me: other people don't have jobs with never-ending stress and 60 hour weeks. And for the first time I realized how much I was dreading going back to work -- even if it will be in my own home working for myself. And the whole time Gracie's been going through this grumpy phase, all I can think about is this: I have to start up my home-based business in 3 months, and what on earth will I do if she's still like this when I have to get some work done?
But I have decided I will cross that bridge when I get to it, and not worry about it until then. Three months is a long time in the life of Gracie -- a lot can change between now and then, and I'm probably worrying myself sick over nothing. So until then, I will change my expectation of how much I can get done in a day, and just enjoy my walking time with Gracie.
P.S. This may be a bit too much info for some, but I also decided that my birth control patch was making me a bit loopy. Anybody else try it and have trouble with it? I went to the doctor on Thursday and she's recommending an IUD. I think I will try it.
I tried a number of your suggestions. Jody, I tried putting her in my Peapod Cuddly Wrap to carry her around with me, but she hated it just as much as she did when she was teeny. So instead, I just carry her for awhile and do everything one handed. If I'm unloading the dishwasher I give her one of her plastic spoons to play with while I finish. And while doing the laundry I put her in the basket on top of the clothes and carry her up and down the two floors -- she thinks that's hilarious! The first day carrying a 22-pound seven-month-old around with one arm all day was a little tough, but boy you should feel my bicep now!
I also decided that she's probably bored with playing with the same toys and hanging out doing the same things all day long. I'm a bit of a homebody, and staying home for 4 or 5 days at a stretch really doesn't bother me. But I think Gracie needs a little extra stimulation. So I signed us up for the public library's BabyTime (she cried through the entire first session), and I'm looking into taking her to the pool (Julie will be proud). Since I'm currently on foot while Nate's truck is getting fixed, I've also taken her on a walk every day this week, and she really seemed to like that.
Also, shortly after I wrote that post, my inlaws called to say they bought us a walker while they were down in the States! Yayyy! We will be going to pick it up in a few days, but just knowing that it is coming is making me a happy lady. We do have an exersaucer and a jolly jumper, but she's been in them since she was three months old and is sick of them. Hopefully this walker will make things better.
So thank you all very much. All those things helped, but I also got to the bottom of WHY I was getting so nutsy and grumpy. Because honestly, this last 7 months have been the best 7 months of my life. Turns out, I really love being a stay-at-home Mom. For the first time in so many years I can't remember, I actually want to get out of bed in the morning. I spend all day playing with a sweet little cutie pie who seems to like my singing voice and loves it when I tickle her and flip her upside down. When she's sleeping I do some housework, bake some cookies, water my flowers, do a little redecorating -- all the things I wanted to do when I was working but didn't have time.
So when all the other women around me are talking about how they can't wait to get back to work, I always wonder why on earth you would WANT to go back to never-ending stress and 60 hour weeks. And that's when it hit me: other people don't have jobs with never-ending stress and 60 hour weeks. And for the first time I realized how much I was dreading going back to work -- even if it will be in my own home working for myself. And the whole time Gracie's been going through this grumpy phase, all I can think about is this: I have to start up my home-based business in 3 months, and what on earth will I do if she's still like this when I have to get some work done?
But I have decided I will cross that bridge when I get to it, and not worry about it until then. Three months is a long time in the life of Gracie -- a lot can change between now and then, and I'm probably worrying myself sick over nothing. So until then, I will change my expectation of how much I can get done in a day, and just enjoy my walking time with Gracie.
P.S. This may be a bit too much info for some, but I also decided that my birth control patch was making me a bit loopy. Anybody else try it and have trouble with it? I went to the doctor on Thursday and she's recommending an IUD. I think I will try it.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Welcome to Frustration City!
Oh, we've been having some fun down at the denice-isms household lately. Gracie is a frustrated, frustrated little girl. She wants to move around so very badly, but she just refuses to crawl. Nope, no crawling for Gracie. What she would like to do is just stand and walk around all day please. But since she can't actually do that on her own, and I can't hold her up so she can play all day long, Gracie and I are at an impasse.
Three weeks ago, things were going just fine. She was well on her way to starting to crawl, and life was going well. And then she fell and whacked her head on one of her toys. And I'm not talking a small little bump to the noggin; she whacked it good. There was a bruise and a bump and everything. So now she refuses to even try to crawl. She reaches as far forward as she dares without falling over and then she's done. If something she wants is out of her reach, she just cries. And cries, and cries and cries some more.
Also, no longer can I leave her playing nicely in the living room. I used to be able to plunk her down on a blanket in the living room, give her some toys, and spend the next hour or so doing my chores while she played. Not anymore. Now she must be in the room I am in or she screams. Actually, first she screams, then the screams turn into piteous sobs accompanied by giant crocodile tears. Anyone listening might think I have packed her up and left her on someone else's doorstep never to return, so sad are the sobs that come out of that girl's mouth.
And since I am the world's biggest softie, after about five minutes of the sobs, I give in. I try to leave her there to work it out for herself so she will learn that she has to entertain herself. But I just can't do it. After awhile the sobs get the best of me and I go pick her up. And put her down on the floor in the room I am currently in, give her some toys and hope that makes her happy. Nope. She will scream the entire time I unload the dishwasher, or make supper, or fold the laundry. Because what she really wants to do is walk.
So, when I am done what I am doing, we walk. And walk, and walk, and walk. We go from the kitchen to the patio door in the living room and back again. And when mommy gets tired of that, we go outside and walk on the grass. This kid is getting pretty good at it too, if I do say so myself. The only time she is happy now is when I hold onto her two little hands and we walk. She grins the world's biggest grin, makes happy little screeching noises and gurgles and talks and looks up and smiles at me with that big gummy smile that melts my heart; and every once in awhile we stop to take a little rest and she gives me a big wet slobbery baby kiss.
The ENTIRE REST OF THE DAY she is fussing and crying and screaming for me to come and get her and let her walk. And Mommy is getting frustrated. I yelled at her this morning. After trying several different things to entertain her and she was still screeching, I yelled "FINE!!!!!", picked her up kind of roughly and stood her on her feet to walk some more. So of course she cried because Mommy has never done that before, and I cried because I'd never treated her that way before, and now I just want to crawl into a hole and die. I'm supposed to be the Mommy with infinite patience, and today mine ran out.
I know this is just a phase, and soon she will be more mobile and happy. But it's just such a long day when she gets up at 8 a.m. and only takes a short afternoon nap and doesn't go to bed until 11 p.m. Someone please tell me she will be happier soon!
Three weeks ago, things were going just fine. She was well on her way to starting to crawl, and life was going well. And then she fell and whacked her head on one of her toys. And I'm not talking a small little bump to the noggin; she whacked it good. There was a bruise and a bump and everything. So now she refuses to even try to crawl. She reaches as far forward as she dares without falling over and then she's done. If something she wants is out of her reach, she just cries. And cries, and cries and cries some more.
Also, no longer can I leave her playing nicely in the living room. I used to be able to plunk her down on a blanket in the living room, give her some toys, and spend the next hour or so doing my chores while she played. Not anymore. Now she must be in the room I am in or she screams. Actually, first she screams, then the screams turn into piteous sobs accompanied by giant crocodile tears. Anyone listening might think I have packed her up and left her on someone else's doorstep never to return, so sad are the sobs that come out of that girl's mouth.
And since I am the world's biggest softie, after about five minutes of the sobs, I give in. I try to leave her there to work it out for herself so she will learn that she has to entertain herself. But I just can't do it. After awhile the sobs get the best of me and I go pick her up. And put her down on the floor in the room I am currently in, give her some toys and hope that makes her happy. Nope. She will scream the entire time I unload the dishwasher, or make supper, or fold the laundry. Because what she really wants to do is walk.
So, when I am done what I am doing, we walk. And walk, and walk, and walk. We go from the kitchen to the patio door in the living room and back again. And when mommy gets tired of that, we go outside and walk on the grass. This kid is getting pretty good at it too, if I do say so myself. The only time she is happy now is when I hold onto her two little hands and we walk. She grins the world's biggest grin, makes happy little screeching noises and gurgles and talks and looks up and smiles at me with that big gummy smile that melts my heart; and every once in awhile we stop to take a little rest and she gives me a big wet slobbery baby kiss.
The ENTIRE REST OF THE DAY she is fussing and crying and screaming for me to come and get her and let her walk. And Mommy is getting frustrated. I yelled at her this morning. After trying several different things to entertain her and she was still screeching, I yelled "FINE!!!!!", picked her up kind of roughly and stood her on her feet to walk some more. So of course she cried because Mommy has never done that before, and I cried because I'd never treated her that way before, and now I just want to crawl into a hole and die. I'm supposed to be the Mommy with infinite patience, and today mine ran out.
I know this is just a phase, and soon she will be more mobile and happy. But it's just such a long day when she gets up at 8 a.m. and only takes a short afternoon nap and doesn't go to bed until 11 p.m. Someone please tell me she will be happier soon!
Monday, September 03, 2007
Oh, to be a rich woman…
Before you read on, go to www.potterybarnkids.com and look at all the super cute Halloween stuff.
Aren't they the cutest costumes you've ever seen? If I was rich, (and I'm definitely not), and if they actually shipped this stuff to Canada, I would be ordering a whole butt-load of Halloween fun! (I bet rich people don't say "butt-load" either.)
If I could afford it, Gracie would have one of those adorable little costumes (devil? flower? tiger? bee? ladybug?…I can't decide!), and I would be the Sorcerer. I also want most of the decorations, the cute plates, placemats and tablecloth, the neat games, and the banner for my front door.
Anybody know what the Lotto 6/49 jackpot is this week?
Aren't they the cutest costumes you've ever seen? If I was rich, (and I'm definitely not), and if they actually shipped this stuff to Canada, I would be ordering a whole butt-load of Halloween fun! (I bet rich people don't say "butt-load" either.)
If I could afford it, Gracie would have one of those adorable little costumes (devil? flower? tiger? bee? ladybug?…I can't decide!), and I would be the Sorcerer. I also want most of the decorations, the cute plates, placemats and tablecloth, the neat games, and the banner for my front door.
Anybody know what the Lotto 6/49 jackpot is this week?
Friday, August 31, 2007
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Seven things about me…
Because I know I'm so important to you all (heeheehee), I've decided that I had better offer up a post to keep you all coming back, just in case you decide to abandon me due to lack of posting. The only problem is nothing worthy of an entire post has happened to me lately.
You see, it's summer, so I'm naturally distracted from anything that requires much brain power (throwback to childhood summer vacation I guess). And I'm still (STILL!) cleaning my house from top to bottom, and baby is it getting organized! But I've still got a bit more to do so I'm spending every spare minute doing that.
So, to keep you all interested until I am done cleaning and back to my usual self, here are some random things in my life from the past few weeks:
1. I am totally in love with the new Tide laundry detergent that smells like white lilac. Makes my clothes smell so nice, I actually WANT to do laundry.
2. I am addicted to the new Peek Frean Cranberry Citrus Oat Crunch cookies. Yummy!!! Dip them in a little vanilla yogurt: even yummier!
3. I just found out that my next door neighbor and her teenage daughter have been going to the food bank to get them through some tough times. Now all I want to do is bake for them and do whatever else I can for them.
4. Gracie has decided to be a night owl like mommy and daddy. She goes to bed at 1 a.m. and sleeps until 10 a.m. She can sit up on her own now too. Well, most of the time. When she's bored of sitting she just falls backwards, which is fine when she's sitting on my bed while I fold laundry, but not so fine when we are in the living room on the padded foam tile thingies. Or at the Superstore getting family photos taken and you have to sit on the cement floor.
5. I have been watching Little House on the Prairie every day at 5 p.m. while Gracie naps and I make supper. Embarassing, but true. Did you know that Jason Bateman and Shannen Doherty were on that show when they were little kids? It's kinda funny to watch.
6. I had my first "I can do it myself Mommy!" moment with Gracie the other day. It was only the third time I've let her sit up while she takes a bath, and since I'm trying to be a responsible adult and not let her drown, I kept holding onto her. And she kept grabbing my hand and pushing it away. The fifth? time, she looked right into my eyes and started baby-babbling in a very annoyed voice, her little face all scrunched and mad. I'm pretty sure she was telling me off in her own little language.
7. Speaking of language, she's getting very close to saying "Mommy." Whenever she is upset, scared, crying, or just generally annoyed with something, I get an "Uhhh-meeee!" At first I thought it was just coincidental baby babble, but she's doing it pretty consistently now. I have to say I'm kinda surprised. The way she's been trying to get the cats, I was certain her first word was going to be Kitty.
Well, that's me in a nutshell these days. As soon as I get a minute, I'll scan the family photos we had taken and post them here.
You see, it's summer, so I'm naturally distracted from anything that requires much brain power (throwback to childhood summer vacation I guess). And I'm still (STILL!) cleaning my house from top to bottom, and baby is it getting organized! But I've still got a bit more to do so I'm spending every spare minute doing that.
So, to keep you all interested until I am done cleaning and back to my usual self, here are some random things in my life from the past few weeks:
1. I am totally in love with the new Tide laundry detergent that smells like white lilac. Makes my clothes smell so nice, I actually WANT to do laundry.
2. I am addicted to the new Peek Frean Cranberry Citrus Oat Crunch cookies. Yummy!!! Dip them in a little vanilla yogurt: even yummier!
3. I just found out that my next door neighbor and her teenage daughter have been going to the food bank to get them through some tough times. Now all I want to do is bake for them and do whatever else I can for them.
4. Gracie has decided to be a night owl like mommy and daddy. She goes to bed at 1 a.m. and sleeps until 10 a.m. She can sit up on her own now too. Well, most of the time. When she's bored of sitting she just falls backwards, which is fine when she's sitting on my bed while I fold laundry, but not so fine when we are in the living room on the padded foam tile thingies. Or at the Superstore getting family photos taken and you have to sit on the cement floor.
5. I have been watching Little House on the Prairie every day at 5 p.m. while Gracie naps and I make supper. Embarassing, but true. Did you know that Jason Bateman and Shannen Doherty were on that show when they were little kids? It's kinda funny to watch.
6. I had my first "I can do it myself Mommy!" moment with Gracie the other day. It was only the third time I've let her sit up while she takes a bath, and since I'm trying to be a responsible adult and not let her drown, I kept holding onto her. And she kept grabbing my hand and pushing it away. The fifth? time, she looked right into my eyes and started baby-babbling in a very annoyed voice, her little face all scrunched and mad. I'm pretty sure she was telling me off in her own little language.
7. Speaking of language, she's getting very close to saying "Mommy." Whenever she is upset, scared, crying, or just generally annoyed with something, I get an "Uhhh-meeee!" At first I thought it was just coincidental baby babble, but she's doing it pretty consistently now. I have to say I'm kinda surprised. The way she's been trying to get the cats, I was certain her first word was going to be Kitty.
Well, that's me in a nutshell these days. As soon as I get a minute, I'll scan the family photos we had taken and post them here.
Thursday, August 09, 2007
My kid's bigger than your kid…
I took Gracie to her 6-month check-up this afternoon, and after the nurse did the preliminary height and weight check, this is what I overheard just outside the door of the little room they stuck us in:
Doctor: This can't be right.
Nurse: But it is. I checked twice. Her mother helped me hold her still.
Doctor: But she can't be 74 cm tall. She's only 6 months old.
Nurse: You can measure her again yourself, but she's 74 cm tall.
Doctor: Then I guess the weight must be right too. 9.43 kg? That's over the 100th percentile. Holy crap, that's one big kid.
So apparently, my kid's bigger than your kid, and your kid, and your kid too. Not unhealthy -- the doctor said she's quite proportional -- just big.
And nobody is more surprised than me. For those of you who don't know me in the flesh, I'm only 5'3" tall. So when I got pregnant I just assumed that I was going to have me a nice little 6 pound baby, because seriously, where would a bigger baby than that fit? And even when presented with ultrasound results that told me Gracie was at least 7 pounds and probably more, I didn't really believe it. Induce me today? But it's only my due date! Let's not be hasty. If Gracie doesn't really want to come out, then I don't think we should force her just yet…
Then a week later, when they told me I shouldn't wait any longer and made me come in for an induction, I still didn't really believe the baby could be that big. When asked if I wanted some morphine or an epidural, I naively said no, I thought that I could probably get by just fine with some of that nice laughing gas I had read about. And I did get by just fine -- until my giant baby got stuck and they had to do some nasty things to get her out. FYI, laughing gas is NOT effective when they need to reach in and rip out a baby who is going into distress. I won't go into details, but when all was said and done, Gracie's collarbone was broken and I didn't walk so well for quite awhile…
Where was I? Oh yes - my big baby weighed in at a whopping 8 pounds, 10.75 ounces, and she's been big ever since. At this rate, she's going to outgrow me sometime next year. And that's just fine with me. Maybe she will grow up to be one of those lucky ladies who doesn't have to shop in the petites section. Sigh…a mother can dream, can't she?
Doctor: This can't be right.
Nurse: But it is. I checked twice. Her mother helped me hold her still.
Doctor: But she can't be 74 cm tall. She's only 6 months old.
Nurse: You can measure her again yourself, but she's 74 cm tall.
Doctor: Then I guess the weight must be right too. 9.43 kg? That's over the 100th percentile. Holy crap, that's one big kid.
So apparently, my kid's bigger than your kid, and your kid, and your kid too. Not unhealthy -- the doctor said she's quite proportional -- just big.
And nobody is more surprised than me. For those of you who don't know me in the flesh, I'm only 5'3" tall. So when I got pregnant I just assumed that I was going to have me a nice little 6 pound baby, because seriously, where would a bigger baby than that fit? And even when presented with ultrasound results that told me Gracie was at least 7 pounds and probably more, I didn't really believe it. Induce me today? But it's only my due date! Let's not be hasty. If Gracie doesn't really want to come out, then I don't think we should force her just yet…
Then a week later, when they told me I shouldn't wait any longer and made me come in for an induction, I still didn't really believe the baby could be that big. When asked if I wanted some morphine or an epidural, I naively said no, I thought that I could probably get by just fine with some of that nice laughing gas I had read about. And I did get by just fine -- until my giant baby got stuck and they had to do some nasty things to get her out. FYI, laughing gas is NOT effective when they need to reach in and rip out a baby who is going into distress. I won't go into details, but when all was said and done, Gracie's collarbone was broken and I didn't walk so well for quite awhile…
Where was I? Oh yes - my big baby weighed in at a whopping 8 pounds, 10.75 ounces, and she's been big ever since. At this rate, she's going to outgrow me sometime next year. And that's just fine with me. Maybe she will grow up to be one of those lucky ladies who doesn't have to shop in the petites section. Sigh…a mother can dream, can't she?
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
PMS Day. Need I say more?
I am grumpy and frustrated beyond measure today. Gracie is being a crying, whining, teething 6-month-old (which I know she can't help), and all the things I usually do to cheer her up are not working and all she does is cry if I don't hold her, so I've been holding her and walking around the house for three hours straight. I'm PMS-ing and there is no chocolate left in my house, and hubby will not be home until midnight tonight so I'm all alone all day with a baby who won't stop crying and if it wouldn't wake her up (she finally fell asleep) I would be screaming in a pillow right now so I'm doing this instead.
Okay. Better now. Maybe I have time to make some cookies…
Postscript: It's now midnight. After I posted this afternoon, Gracie had a 2 hour nap and woke up a different baby. And after she went to bed Mommy had a Smirnoff Ice and some popcorn and she feels MUCH better now. Damn it, I guess Scott Reid was right: we parents do squander our money on beer and popcorn.
Okay. Better now. Maybe I have time to make some cookies…
Postscript: It's now midnight. After I posted this afternoon, Gracie had a 2 hour nap and woke up a different baby. And after she went to bed Mommy had a Smirnoff Ice and some popcorn and she feels MUCH better now. Damn it, I guess Scott Reid was right: we parents do squander our money on beer and popcorn.
Monday, August 06, 2007
Things I didn't know before I got pregnant #274
When I got pregnant, I knew that my body would suffer some irreparable damage. I knew that I would gain weight, acquire a spare tire that would never really go away, and that I would likely lose a large percentage of my hair.
But no one ever told me that one of my boobs would end up bigger than the other. That's right: one of my boobs is bigger than the other. And not just a little bit bigger. Waaaay bigger. I discovered this this morning, trying on my old bras.
You see, I'm fortunate enough to have lost about half of my pregnancy weight, and since I'm no longer breastfeeding, my breasts have returned to close to their original size. Not their original perkiness of course, but size wise, pretty close to normal. So, I hauled out a bunch of my old bras, hoping that perhaps some of the push-up variety I used to wear might make me look a little bit better. I figured that I could probably squeeze back into my good ol' 36C's if I did up the very last hook instead of the first hook that I USED to use…
And that's when I discovered that one of my lovely ladies is bigger than the other. The right side fits quite nicely, thank you very much. But the left side? Refused to stay in the cup. Popped right out every time I tried to stuff it back in.
How does this happen? Will it go back to the right size eventually? How on earth am I ever going to find a bra that fits me, ever, ever again?
Only me. Something like this would only happen to me, I swear.
But no one ever told me that one of my boobs would end up bigger than the other. That's right: one of my boobs is bigger than the other. And not just a little bit bigger. Waaaay bigger. I discovered this this morning, trying on my old bras.
You see, I'm fortunate enough to have lost about half of my pregnancy weight, and since I'm no longer breastfeeding, my breasts have returned to close to their original size. Not their original perkiness of course, but size wise, pretty close to normal. So, I hauled out a bunch of my old bras, hoping that perhaps some of the push-up variety I used to wear might make me look a little bit better. I figured that I could probably squeeze back into my good ol' 36C's if I did up the very last hook instead of the first hook that I USED to use…
And that's when I discovered that one of my lovely ladies is bigger than the other. The right side fits quite nicely, thank you very much. But the left side? Refused to stay in the cup. Popped right out every time I tried to stuff it back in.
How does this happen? Will it go back to the right size eventually? How on earth am I ever going to find a bra that fits me, ever, ever again?
Only me. Something like this would only happen to me, I swear.
Saturday, August 04, 2007
Bestest Toy Ever!
Sorry I haven't posted much lately. You know how a few weeks ago I wrote about how I was going to re-organize my house and turn myself into a neat freak? Turns out that re-organizing can create a bigger mess than you had in the first place. Nobody told me that part. And, when you are spending all your time re-organizing, it gives you less time for silly things like vacuuming and doing the laundry, which you end up doing at 2 a.m. because it still has to get done. So, writing on my blog (which I would rather be doing than ANY of those aforementioned things) has become a bit of a lower priority.
But I'm almost done. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. My house will be neat and tidy and presentable in no time (or, alternatively, just in time for Gracie to crawl, which looks like could be any minute now).
But I gotta tell you all about this cool thing I bought yesterday, in honor of Gracie's first grocery shopping trip without the infant car seat. She's pretty good at sitting up on her own but is a teeny tiny bit wobbly still, so I needed something to, um, hold her up a bit while I spend and hour and half shopping. (If any of you can get out of the Real Canadian Superstore in under an hour and half, please tell me how).
Anyway, I bought an Infantino shopping cart cover. It has toys on it for her to play with, a little pillow for a head rest, and a handy-dandy strap to put through the back of the shopping cart to hold her up. And she LOVED it. I put her in the shopping cart, strapped her in, then told her: "Look! You're sitting up all by yourself like a big girl!" I tell you, you've never seen a smile so big. She grinned for a half an hour. She looked at EVERYTHING with such intensity, as if she had never seen any of these things before. She played with all the little toys, and when she got tired, the little strap kept her upright and the bone-shaped pillow was the perfect little head-rest.
Try it! I highly recommend it. Now, back to the giant mess…
But I'm almost done. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. My house will be neat and tidy and presentable in no time (or, alternatively, just in time for Gracie to crawl, which looks like could be any minute now).
But I gotta tell you all about this cool thing I bought yesterday, in honor of Gracie's first grocery shopping trip without the infant car seat. She's pretty good at sitting up on her own but is a teeny tiny bit wobbly still, so I needed something to, um, hold her up a bit while I spend and hour and half shopping. (If any of you can get out of the Real Canadian Superstore in under an hour and half, please tell me how).
Anyway, I bought an Infantino shopping cart cover. It has toys on it for her to play with, a little pillow for a head rest, and a handy-dandy strap to put through the back of the shopping cart to hold her up. And she LOVED it. I put her in the shopping cart, strapped her in, then told her: "Look! You're sitting up all by yourself like a big girl!" I tell you, you've never seen a smile so big. She grinned for a half an hour. She looked at EVERYTHING with such intensity, as if she had never seen any of these things before. She played with all the little toys, and when she got tired, the little strap kept her upright and the bone-shaped pillow was the perfect little head-rest.
Try it! I highly recommend it. Now, back to the giant mess…
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
A small request…
Can I please freeze time to the very moment in this picture? I would like Gracie to stay almost 6 months old forever, and I would like every day to end like in this picture: going to the park at sunset, pushing Gracie in her toddler swing for 20 minutes while she laughs and hubby and I smile and hug and kiss in the warm summer night breeze, and all is right with the world.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Four years and 30 pounds ago…
Today is hubby and my fourth anniversary. Four years of wedded bliss, filled with moving to Airdrie, buying 20 per cent of an independent newspaper, buying our first home, and best of all, having our first child.
It's been the best four years of my life, bar none.
Although, the three years we lived together prior to getting married were pretty damn awesome too. Which (awkwardly) brings me to today's topic: Is an anniversary less special when you've lived together before getting married?
Last year, a slightly more religious acquaintance of mine insinuated that since hubby and I had lived in sin for so long before we got married, our anniversary didn't really mean anything. That since it wasn't really the beginning of our life together, it wasn't really the celebration of anything other than "making it legal."
After I got over wanting throw her over the nearest cliff (which is pretty hard to find on the prairies), I started thinking about what she had to say. I mean, I guess, in a way, she was a teeny, tiny bit correct. Our wedding day was not the beginning of our lives together. But the more I thought about it, the more I thought it made the day MORE special, not less.
You see, by the time you've shared an abode with someone for three years, you've learned pretty much everything about them. You've moved past the "crazy in love" phase, and entered the "this is real life" phase. You know, the phase where you ask your sweetie why the hell he has to take his socks off and just leave them on the floor in front of the couch, and he answers by saying: "I don't know. Why the hell does it take you an hour to get ready to go anywhere?"
We knew each other's likes and dislikes, pet peeves and peccadillos. We knew each other inside and out, warts and all. We knew better than a brand new couple exactly what we were getting ourselves into. And we still stood up in front of all of our family and friends and spilled tears of happiness as we promised to love each other until death do we part.
Now, come on, isn't that romantic?
Monday, July 23, 2007
Update to the Instruction Manual:
Since I wrote that post on Friday, it has been pointed out to me that I'm doing two stupid things:
1. Boiling water before I make formula.
2. Sterilizing the bottles every night.
So here is my lame defence for each point:
#1: I've been boiling the water for the formula because, well, it says to in bold, all caps letters on the side of the can; and being the polite and obedient Canadian that I am, I followed the instructions. It has since been pointed out to me both online and in person that only new Moms like me follow that instruction. Apparently, most of you all buck the system and just use hot tap water. So, I've been using hot tap water for the last couple of days and sweet Gracie still seems to be alive and well, so I've eliminated that step from my night time routine.
#2: I've been sterilizing the nipples to her bottle every night since she got thrush three months ago. I didn't use to. I used to just put them in the dishwasher and then sterilze them once a week like it said on the instructions. (I'm a real follow-the-instructions kind of gal). But the first time she got thrush it didn't go away until I started sterilizing every night. Once the thrush cleared up I went back to sterilizing once a week, but by the end of the week the thrush was back. I did that three times. The third time she got thrush I had to give her a super strong prescription medicine, throw away all of the bottle nipples, throw away all of her soothers, throw away all of the gripe water that I had dipped a soother in, and take away a number of toys that she had chewed on and sterilize them too. I didn't want that thrush to come back ever, ever again, so I just got into the habit of boiling all the bottles nipples for a half hour every night before I went to bed so they would be ready for morning.
But she hasn't had thrush in two months now, so I could probably be safe in going back to once a week. And I've decided that this is the week. So thanks everybody! Maybe with all the extra time I'll have, I'll see if I can get my hands on a copy of the new Harry Potter book…
1. Boiling water before I make formula.
2. Sterilizing the bottles every night.
So here is my lame defence for each point:
#1: I've been boiling the water for the formula because, well, it says to in bold, all caps letters on the side of the can; and being the polite and obedient Canadian that I am, I followed the instructions. It has since been pointed out to me both online and in person that only new Moms like me follow that instruction. Apparently, most of you all buck the system and just use hot tap water. So, I've been using hot tap water for the last couple of days and sweet Gracie still seems to be alive and well, so I've eliminated that step from my night time routine.
#2: I've been sterilizing the nipples to her bottle every night since she got thrush three months ago. I didn't use to. I used to just put them in the dishwasher and then sterilze them once a week like it said on the instructions. (I'm a real follow-the-instructions kind of gal). But the first time she got thrush it didn't go away until I started sterilizing every night. Once the thrush cleared up I went back to sterilizing once a week, but by the end of the week the thrush was back. I did that three times. The third time she got thrush I had to give her a super strong prescription medicine, throw away all of the bottle nipples, throw away all of her soothers, throw away all of the gripe water that I had dipped a soother in, and take away a number of toys that she had chewed on and sterilize them too. I didn't want that thrush to come back ever, ever again, so I just got into the habit of boiling all the bottles nipples for a half hour every night before I went to bed so they would be ready for morning.
But she hasn't had thrush in two months now, so I could probably be safe in going back to once a week. And I've decided that this is the week. So thanks everybody! Maybe with all the extra time I'll have, I'll see if I can get my hands on a copy of the new Harry Potter book…
Friday, July 20, 2007
Instruction Manual for being Gracie's Mommy
You know the saying that babies don't come with instruction manuals, but it sure would be nice if they did? Well, today I decided to start a new feature here at Denice-isms. I call it: Instruction Manual for being Gracie's Mommy. Every time I stumble upon something very important to Gracie's upkeep and general well-being, I'll add it to the manual.
Today's inaugural entry:
Rule #1: Never, ever, under any circumstances, wake her up in the morning before she is ready to be awake -- or suffer the consequences!
I could write a really long blog about how much she cried and how frustrated I was last week, but I'll keep it to the basics.
For the past couple of weeks, Gracie has been going to bed later, and later, and later, to the point where all last week she didn't go to bed until well after midnight. Which isn't that bad, really, considering her Dad and I are night owls and we probably wouldn't go to bed before then anyway. But since she's formula-fed now, after she goes to bed I have to wash and sterilize all the bottles, boil enough water for the formula for the next day and then mix the formula -- plus do a couple of loads of laundry, clean up the kitchen, tidy the living room -- you get the idea. So when Gracie goes to bed at midnight, I don't go to bed until 2:30 a.m.
Now, when she goes to bed at midnight, sweet Gracie will usually sleep until at least 10 a.m., maybe even 11 a.m. if I'm really, really lucky. But one day last week, I heard her stirring a bit at 9 a.m. and instead of just going into her room and sticking the soother back in her mouth and fixing the blankets so she could instantly drift back off to sleep, I got the brilliant idea that I would instead turn on the lights and wake her up, so that tonight she would go to bed earlier.
Let's just say that didn't go over well. And she punished me for the whole rest of the day. She was grumpy all day, and even though she was clearly tired, she absolutely refused to go to sleep. And she still didn't go to bed until well after midnight.
So in the future, if it doesn't look like she is ready to get up, I will not, under any circumstances, try to wake her up. It's just easier that way. Who needs to go anywhere at 11 a.m. anyway? Stores stay open pretty late here…
Today's inaugural entry:
Rule #1: Never, ever, under any circumstances, wake her up in the morning before she is ready to be awake -- or suffer the consequences!
I could write a really long blog about how much she cried and how frustrated I was last week, but I'll keep it to the basics.
For the past couple of weeks, Gracie has been going to bed later, and later, and later, to the point where all last week she didn't go to bed until well after midnight. Which isn't that bad, really, considering her Dad and I are night owls and we probably wouldn't go to bed before then anyway. But since she's formula-fed now, after she goes to bed I have to wash and sterilize all the bottles, boil enough water for the formula for the next day and then mix the formula -- plus do a couple of loads of laundry, clean up the kitchen, tidy the living room -- you get the idea. So when Gracie goes to bed at midnight, I don't go to bed until 2:30 a.m.
Now, when she goes to bed at midnight, sweet Gracie will usually sleep until at least 10 a.m., maybe even 11 a.m. if I'm really, really lucky. But one day last week, I heard her stirring a bit at 9 a.m. and instead of just going into her room and sticking the soother back in her mouth and fixing the blankets so she could instantly drift back off to sleep, I got the brilliant idea that I would instead turn on the lights and wake her up, so that tonight she would go to bed earlier.
Let's just say that didn't go over well. And she punished me for the whole rest of the day. She was grumpy all day, and even though she was clearly tired, she absolutely refused to go to sleep. And she still didn't go to bed until well after midnight.
So in the future, if it doesn't look like she is ready to get up, I will not, under any circumstances, try to wake her up. It's just easier that way. Who needs to go anywhere at 11 a.m. anyway? Stores stay open pretty late here…
Friday, July 13, 2007
Neat-Freak in the Making
My house is a total disaster. And I'm not just being one of those people who SAY "please excuse my messy house" when you come over, and really, the only thing that is messy is there are a couple of bills and flyers on the kitchen counter that haven't been filed neatly away somewhere.
My house really is a total disaster. Every thing is totally disorganized. We moved into this house three days before Christmas in 2004, so in order to get everything unpacked quickly, things just got put where they got put. There was no real thought put into whether it was a GOOD place to put it. If it fit there, that's where it went. At the time, I just figured that I would reorganize everything later, when I had more time. But life got busy and now it's how many years later? and it's still disorganized. Plus, it doesn't really help that I'm the worlds' biggest pack rat. I hate to throw things away, because I'm sure that if I throw that item away, in one week I will need said item. Also, I'm terribly sentimental. I have a whole box of left over wedding invitations and the materials I used to make them. Do I need 50 extra invitations for a wedding that was 4 years ago? No. But can I throw them away? No! They were our wedding invitations!!!
See what we're dealing with here?
In my wildest dreams, I live in one of those perfectly organized houses you see in the Ikea catalogue. A perfect place for everything, and everything in it's perfect place. Sleek, modern furniture, perfectly organized kitchen…everything they are, I want to be. But until recently, I had absolutely no idea how to do it.
I've been watching this show on HGTV called Neat, where a professional organizer comes to your house, helps you clean it out, and then shows you how to organize all your stuff so that it never gets super-scary messy ever again. (I tried to apply to get them to come to MY house, but apparently HGTV thinks the only messy people in the country live in Toronto.)
I have been learning a lot from Neat. And I think, for the very first time, I might just be able to organize this house and keep it that way. Apparently, according to the host Helen, messy people like me have just never learned how to make a system for keeping their house clean. Apparently all of you neat-freak people out there have systems for exactly where everything will go when it enters your house -- instead of sitting on the kitchen table until you can decide what to do with it.
And you also have schedules for cleaning -- like Monday is vacuuming day, Tuesday is laundry day, etc. You see, I didn't know this. I thought that most people just vacuumed when the floor was starting to look dirty. Apparently not. Apparently, most people vacuum the house on Monday, Wednesday and Friday whether it needs it or not.
You learn something new every day.
So, armed with several great ideas I've gotten from her show, I have decided that over the next couple of months, I am going to re-organize my house from the bottom up. Maybe I'll take some before pictures, and when I'm done I'll post the after ones next to it.
Wish me luck! Or, if it's been like a week and I haven't posted anything, please send someone to the basement to dig me out from under the giant pile of stuff…
My house really is a total disaster. Every thing is totally disorganized. We moved into this house three days before Christmas in 2004, so in order to get everything unpacked quickly, things just got put where they got put. There was no real thought put into whether it was a GOOD place to put it. If it fit there, that's where it went. At the time, I just figured that I would reorganize everything later, when I had more time. But life got busy and now it's how many years later? and it's still disorganized. Plus, it doesn't really help that I'm the worlds' biggest pack rat. I hate to throw things away, because I'm sure that if I throw that item away, in one week I will need said item. Also, I'm terribly sentimental. I have a whole box of left over wedding invitations and the materials I used to make them. Do I need 50 extra invitations for a wedding that was 4 years ago? No. But can I throw them away? No! They were our wedding invitations!!!
See what we're dealing with here?
In my wildest dreams, I live in one of those perfectly organized houses you see in the Ikea catalogue. A perfect place for everything, and everything in it's perfect place. Sleek, modern furniture, perfectly organized kitchen…everything they are, I want to be. But until recently, I had absolutely no idea how to do it.
I've been watching this show on HGTV called Neat, where a professional organizer comes to your house, helps you clean it out, and then shows you how to organize all your stuff so that it never gets super-scary messy ever again. (I tried to apply to get them to come to MY house, but apparently HGTV thinks the only messy people in the country live in Toronto.)
I have been learning a lot from Neat. And I think, for the very first time, I might just be able to organize this house and keep it that way. Apparently, according to the host Helen, messy people like me have just never learned how to make a system for keeping their house clean. Apparently all of you neat-freak people out there have systems for exactly where everything will go when it enters your house -- instead of sitting on the kitchen table until you can decide what to do with it.
And you also have schedules for cleaning -- like Monday is vacuuming day, Tuesday is laundry day, etc. You see, I didn't know this. I thought that most people just vacuumed when the floor was starting to look dirty. Apparently not. Apparently, most people vacuum the house on Monday, Wednesday and Friday whether it needs it or not.
You learn something new every day.
So, armed with several great ideas I've gotten from her show, I have decided that over the next couple of months, I am going to re-organize my house from the bottom up. Maybe I'll take some before pictures, and when I'm done I'll post the after ones next to it.
Wish me luck! Or, if it's been like a week and I haven't posted anything, please send someone to the basement to dig me out from under the giant pile of stuff…
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)