That’s right, growing brains, not pains, because I think that I might be losing my mind. I’m combining real life, blog life and TV. Plus, I’ve been weepy. Is this some sort of condition?
Just now, my colleague said she was going downstairs to pick up a DHL package that had arrived for her. Immediately I thought, “Are they the frozen butterflies that you’ve been waiting for?” I’m so glad that I kept my mouth shut, because the whole butterfly incident was a part of yesterday’s Two and a Half Men episode.
Sadly, I’ve also been intertwining the innerweb with my own life. I find myself drumming my fingers and wondering which friend/relative/coworker just went on vacation or just started a new job, only to realize that I read it on a blog. The feeling is kind of like when you completely black out on what you had for dinner the night before and then, all of sudden, the neurons in your brain make the appropriate connection and, bam! – pork chops and green beans.
These days, so much seems sureal. I think it is because time is going too fast. My mind literally can’t keep up. When I pick The Baby up in the afternoon, my eyes scan right over him. I panic, but there he is. He’s a toddler now. I think that I am sometimes still looking for a little baby to bundle up in his carrier. Instead I have to pull my little guy off whatever it is he is trying to scale (he’s a climber!). We go home where his swing, bouncer, baby toys and my pump are neatly packed away waiting for another little baby who will grow out of them way to fast.
*sniff*
Uh-oh
The Baby actually said this a long time ago, but forgot it (much like he learned and promptly forgot how to high five). He has rediscovered “uh-oh.” Nowadays, he likes to spend time dropping his Cheerios one-by-one on the floor and saying, “uh-oh.” It’s the first word, okay exclamation, that he’s used in context. We’re very proud.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Thursday 13: Teeth
This week's Thursday Thirteen is a bit unconventional. Typically, it's a list, but I chose to focus on The Baby's teeth instead. As you'll note from my last post, The Baby just turned one. Despite having both sets of grandparents, fun new toys and a hunk of cake as big as his head to eat, throw, smear and stuff in his ear, The Baby was pretty miserable. In fact, he almost missed his own party due to exhausting himself by being a crank.
Why so miserable? Well, in the space of one week he went from having 9 teeth to having 13 teeth. Most are in, but still sore and one is still working its way out. OUCH. The poor kid starts salivating upon site of the Baby Orajel and has his mouth wide open before we're even in arm's reach.
Now, if anyone has any advice as to how I get a one-year old to open his mouth so that I can brush his teeth, do tell... I'm at a loss. My husband and I have been basically letting him chew on his brush because he won't open his mouth for us.
Tooth-growing genius
I hoped The Baby would excel at something, who knew it would be growing teeth?!Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Happy Birthday, Baby!
The Baby is one. I can hardly believe it!
Sorry for the lack of posts lately. I generally post, or at least write them, on my lunch break, but I've been so busy in the last week that I have been working though my lunch. I don't miss the pump room, but that time made it a lot easier for a working mom to blog!
Anyway, I couldn't resist putting some photos together to brag for your viewing pleasure. Happy Hump Day and Happy Birthday, Baby!
Sorry for the lack of posts lately. I generally post, or at least write them, on my lunch break, but I've been so busy in the last week that I have been working though my lunch. I don't miss the pump room, but that time made it a lot easier for a working mom to blog!
Anyway, I couldn't resist putting some photos together
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Me vs. The Cat
I was so mad on Sunday that I could have shoved The Cat out the door without a second thought. We’ve had our differences. He walks around the house and caterwauls (how about that word? I learned it from MommyK). He hates his food regardless of what kind we try. He hates his litter, though we are always trying “better” brands and even bought a self-cleaning litter box. Still, he often poops on the floor (in the unfinished basement). We recently made him a cat door so that he can go in and out of the basement as he pleases.
Now that The Baby is older, I feel comfortable NOT watching him like a hawk every second. Don’t get me wrong, I am always in the room; I just no longer hover over him as he walks or crawls around. If he’s playing with his ball in the entry or dining room and I’m in the living room, that’s okay. We have our home baby proofed and we have security gates so that he only really has access to the living room and dining room. Aside from the table and chairs, which are tethered together so The Baby can’t knock them over (I’m serious), there is nothing in the dining room besides a rug. I let The Baby roam out there as it’s attached to the living room and because it’s pretty much empty.
On Sunday, he pushed a toy to the dining room and was babbling. I was reading “Baby Laughs,” and feeling all motherly and whatnot. Then it happened. I heard nothing. Really, to a mother is there anything as loud as the sound of nothing? I threw the book aside and ran to the dining room. There on the corner of the rug was a pile of cat crap. Also on the corner of the rug was my son. There was poo on his fingers and on his MOUTH. I had a wet paper towel in my hand and the poop cleaned off my son and off the floor in six and a half seconds. I grabbed The Baby and washed his hands and face at the sink for a really, really long time. I think I might have actually been going “puh, puh” every time I tried to splash water into his mouth.
I felt guilty. I should have been watching. But I never factored poop into the equation. I wanted to kill The Cat. I collected myself and assured myself that, well, shit happens. Then I brushed the cat crap out of my son’s teeth.
Now that The Baby is older, I feel comfortable NOT watching him like a hawk every second. Don’t get me wrong, I am always in the room; I just no longer hover over him as he walks or crawls around. If he’s playing with his ball in the entry or dining room and I’m in the living room, that’s okay. We have our home baby proofed and we have security gates so that he only really has access to the living room and dining room. Aside from the table and chairs, which are tethered together so The Baby can’t knock them over (I’m serious), there is nothing in the dining room besides a rug. I let The Baby roam out there as it’s attached to the living room and because it’s pretty much empty.
On Sunday, he pushed a toy to the dining room and was babbling. I was reading “Baby Laughs,” and feeling all motherly and whatnot. Then it happened. I heard nothing. Really, to a mother is there anything as loud as the sound of nothing? I threw the book aside and ran to the dining room. There on the corner of the rug was a pile of cat crap. Also on the corner of the rug was my son. There was poo on his fingers and on his MOUTH. I had a wet paper towel in my hand and the poop cleaned off my son and off the floor in six and a half seconds. I grabbed The Baby and washed his hands and face at the sink for a really, really long time. I think I might have actually been going “puh, puh” every time I tried to splash water into his mouth.
I felt guilty. I should have been watching. But I never factored poop into the equation. I wanted to kill The Cat. I collected myself and assured myself that, well, shit happens. Then I brushed the cat crap out of my son’s teeth.
Monday, March 31, 2008
The Baby speaks!
Well, he’s finally done it. He’s uttered a word that I feel comfortable enough to write down as his first in the baby book.
For a month or so The Baby has been saying “uh, oh,” here and there. But he never really applied it to anything and we weren’t quite sure if he was really even trying to say it, or if it was just a coincidence that some of the monosyllables in his repertoire came together in such a way as to make sense.
He also will say “mamamamama” or “dadadadada” but it doesn’t seem to mean anything to him, nor does he mimic the sound if you say it first. As far as we can tell, he doesn’t associate those sounds with us at all. If you ask The Baby where his sock is, he knows. He knows his shoes, he can find his spoon or even point to my nose. Heck, if you tell him to put his sock on the table, he’ll do it! But if you say, “Show me Dada. Where is Dada?” he just looks blankly at you. If I ask him to “Show me Mama’s nose,” he’ll cheerfully point to my nose. But ask him “Where’s Mama?” and you’ll be greeted by the sound of silence, or, better yet, he will divert the entire question by pointing at something else and making a noise. Oh, he’s smart.
He obviously has a vocabulary. For about two weeks he’s regularly been saying “ats,” sometimes he’s quite vehement. It means something to him, we just don’t know what. During the Easter service, he repeated the word several times causing much anxiety between me and my husband. To the untrained ear “ats” sounds a lot like “ass” and I’m sure the people in a four-pew radius think we are unfit parents.
Anyway, so Saturday I was playing with The Baby and I tickled him and said “tickle, tickle, tickle,” which, by the way, I never do. Wouldn’t you know it, the little bugger said, “dickle, dickle, dickle!” I thought, no way. Certainly he’ll say “Mama,” or at least “Cat” before he bursts into three-word phrases (I know it's the same word repeated three times, but please don't take this away from me). So I repeated it and sure enough, so did he! I’m not sure that he knows what it means, but he repeats it on cue, so we’re going with it!
In the realm of possibilities, he went with the fun, awwwwwwww-inspiring phrase. There are phrases he hears a lot more often, “Eww, stinky baby” or “Get away from the cord,” for example. While I guess I’m bummed that “Dada” or “Mama” means nothing to our little cherub, I’m secretly relieved to be able to write “tickle” as his first word. I was starting to think it was going to be “ass.”
For a month or so The Baby has been saying “uh, oh,” here and there. But he never really applied it to anything and we weren’t quite sure if he was really even trying to say it, or if it was just a coincidence that some of the monosyllables in his repertoire came together in such a way as to make sense.
He also will say “mamamamama” or “dadadadada” but it doesn’t seem to mean anything to him, nor does he mimic the sound if you say it first. As far as we can tell, he doesn’t associate those sounds with us at all. If you ask The Baby where his sock is, he knows. He knows his shoes, he can find his spoon or even point to my nose. Heck, if you tell him to put his sock on the table, he’ll do it! But if you say, “Show me Dada. Where is Dada?” he just looks blankly at you. If I ask him to “Show me Mama’s nose,” he’ll cheerfully point to my nose. But ask him “Where’s Mama?” and you’ll be greeted by the sound of silence, or, better yet, he will divert the entire question by pointing at something else and making a noise. Oh, he’s smart.
He obviously has a vocabulary. For about two weeks he’s regularly been saying “ats,” sometimes he’s quite vehement. It means something to him, we just don’t know what. During the Easter service, he repeated the word several times causing much anxiety between me and my husband. To the untrained ear “ats” sounds a lot like “ass” and I’m sure the people in a four-pew radius think we are unfit parents.
Anyway, so Saturday I was playing with The Baby and I tickled him and said “tickle, tickle, tickle,” which, by the way, I never do. Wouldn’t you know it, the little bugger said, “dickle, dickle, dickle!” I thought, no way. Certainly he’ll say “Mama,” or at least “Cat” before he bursts into three-word phrases (I know it's the same word repeated three times, but please don't take this away from me). So I repeated it and sure enough, so did he! I’m not sure that he knows what it means, but he repeats it on cue, so we’re going with it!
In the realm of possibilities, he went with the fun, awwwwwwww-inspiring phrase. There are phrases he hears a lot more often, “Eww, stinky baby” or “Get away from the cord,” for example. While I guess I’m bummed that “Dada” or “Mama” means nothing to our little cherub, I’m secretly relieved to be able to write “tickle” as his first word. I was starting to think it was going to be “ass.”
Friday, March 28, 2008
Haiku Friday: Spring Things
March Madness
I hate basketball.
Squeaky sneakers, dumb brackets.
Will March never end?
I hate basketball.
Squeaky sneakers, dumb brackets.
Will March never end?
Pretty Purple
Crocuses peek out
from the cold Earth and shiver
in the pale sunshine.
Crocuses peek out
from the cold Earth and shiver
in the pale sunshine.
Winter Coat
Goodbye, oppressor.
I don't care if I get cold,
I'll wear you no more.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
