And she meant it, too. It’s no longer a fluke; she knows what she’s saying.
When Punky is ready for bed, she lets us know. She’ll be playing one minute, smiling and happy, and the next minute she is cranky and crying. This sudden transformation in mood usually occurs between eight and nine p.m., depending on how/when the day’s naps were (or weren’t in some cases). Saturday night was no different. Happy one minute, crying and clinging to me the next.
As I rushed to get her bottle ready, something caught my ear. In her cries, it sounded like she was intentionally calling out for me. I asked my mom if she heard what I heard and she agreed. I took Punky in her room for a final diaper change and all the while she was crying “mmaa mmmaaa” in such a heart wrenching, pitiful tone. It brought tears to my eyes.
She took her bottle and fell asleep in my arms. I absolutely hate putting her down when she does that. I just want to stay on the rocker and hold her all night. I fought the urge and put her in her crib. I still wasn’t fully convinced she really meant what she was saying, until she woke up crying a half hour later.
There she was, standing up in her crib, staring at the door, and yelling “mama” as clear as a bell. That sealed the deal for me. It also made me decide it is a touch of separation anxiety she is experiencing at night. She wanted me and she knew how to call for me. It is real; she can say mama. I waited nine and a half months to hear it, and it was the sweetest sound I ever heard and more precious than I ever imagined. I have heard it several times since, and my eyes fill with tears each time.
Mama.
That’s me.
Somehow, hearing her say it created a whole new reality. I’ve felt like her mother since the moment I found out she was cooking. Now I feel like her mom.
Her mama.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Friday, October 9, 2009
We Have a Mmmmaaaaa!
And a ba, da, la, bla, and gra, all in additional to the original ga that started about two weeks ago. It was so exciting to finally hear a mmmmaaaaaa! I was in the other room when she first did it, and I went running!
It’s so cute the way she rambles on and on sometimes. She talks to her toys, and her books, and her hands. The other night at bedtime, she had a conversation with her stuffed frog before she threw him out of the crib and fell asleep. Right now I know she isn’t really connecting the sounds she is making with the things they may represent. She has let out a few ma’s, but not purposely to get my attention. She’ll connect the dots soon enough I’m sure.
She has been waking up crying the past few nights. Sometimes I can get her back to sleep in a matter of minutes; other times I’m not so lucky. I read that separation anxiety really sets in around this age and can disrupt her sleeping through the night. Now, when she wakes in the middle of the night, she is fully aware that I exist somewhere outside her crib and she wants me, thus the crying. I suppose it’s logical and could very well be the reason, but I can’t help wondering if her still swollen gums have anything to do with it.
Her newest trick is giving a high five. I really didn’t try to teach her that, I just happened to do it once while she had her pattie up and she didn’t forget. As soon as she hears “high five” and sees your hand go up, she puts her little pattie up and even moves it toward you. Smarty pants. She also really loves to be chased now, and she goes like hell when you tell her you’re going to get her. Every few feet she stops and turns around to see how close you are, then it’s full speed ahead again for the next few feet. Of course, she still flashes her adorable smile all the time. She is such a happy baby!
In other news, my nephew is a very sick little boy. He’s been dealing with colds and ear infections almost continually the past few years. Finally, a specialist determined the root of the problem is his tonsils. They need to be removed, along with the adenoids, and hopefully he will no longer be sick every couple of weeks.
The surgery is scheduled for this coming Monday. He has really been suffering the past two weeks, and the surgery is still days away. My heart just aches for him. He can’t eat. I imagine it also burns his throat to drink since he isn’t too keen on that either. He can’t sleep for long stretches because he wakes up crying from the pain. He suddenly burns up with fever and sweats like crazy. Continuous doses of antibiotics, Tylenol, and Motrin don’t appear to be helping one bit. Even a visit to the emergency room yielded no relief for him. All the doctors simply agree that it’s all his tonsils, and they can’t do anything for him except the surgery.
So…why not move up the surgery then? Morons. I just can’t believe these doctors are all content with letting a three year old suffer like this for weeks on end. His tonsils are covered in puss. He is crying more often than not. He is starving. He is exhausted. He is probably not far from dehydration at this point. He’s lucky if he has the strength to play for ten minutes before he ends up back on the couch, crying and holding his throat.
I am somewhat glad I am over two hours away. The whole scenario makes me so damn mad. If I were there, I don’t know if I could handle seeing him. I think I would be on the phone with someone… anyone… demanding the surgery be done immediately. It’s just not humane to let him suffer and it’s already gone on too long.
I wish I could take his pain away, even if just for a while. Long enough for him to fill his belly with all the food he wants, drink to quench his thirst and rehydrate himself, play with his toys uninterrupted by pain, and get some solid sleep.
Get better soon, little man. We love you.
It’s so cute the way she rambles on and on sometimes. She talks to her toys, and her books, and her hands. The other night at bedtime, she had a conversation with her stuffed frog before she threw him out of the crib and fell asleep. Right now I know she isn’t really connecting the sounds she is making with the things they may represent. She has let out a few ma’s, but not purposely to get my attention. She’ll connect the dots soon enough I’m sure.
She has been waking up crying the past few nights. Sometimes I can get her back to sleep in a matter of minutes; other times I’m not so lucky. I read that separation anxiety really sets in around this age and can disrupt her sleeping through the night. Now, when she wakes in the middle of the night, she is fully aware that I exist somewhere outside her crib and she wants me, thus the crying. I suppose it’s logical and could very well be the reason, but I can’t help wondering if her still swollen gums have anything to do with it.
Her newest trick is giving a high five. I really didn’t try to teach her that, I just happened to do it once while she had her pattie up and she didn’t forget. As soon as she hears “high five” and sees your hand go up, she puts her little pattie up and even moves it toward you. Smarty pants. She also really loves to be chased now, and she goes like hell when you tell her you’re going to get her. Every few feet she stops and turns around to see how close you are, then it’s full speed ahead again for the next few feet. Of course, she still flashes her adorable smile all the time. She is such a happy baby!
In other news, my nephew is a very sick little boy. He’s been dealing with colds and ear infections almost continually the past few years. Finally, a specialist determined the root of the problem is his tonsils. They need to be removed, along with the adenoids, and hopefully he will no longer be sick every couple of weeks.
The surgery is scheduled for this coming Monday. He has really been suffering the past two weeks, and the surgery is still days away. My heart just aches for him. He can’t eat. I imagine it also burns his throat to drink since he isn’t too keen on that either. He can’t sleep for long stretches because he wakes up crying from the pain. He suddenly burns up with fever and sweats like crazy. Continuous doses of antibiotics, Tylenol, and Motrin don’t appear to be helping one bit. Even a visit to the emergency room yielded no relief for him. All the doctors simply agree that it’s all his tonsils, and they can’t do anything for him except the surgery.
So…why not move up the surgery then? Morons. I just can’t believe these doctors are all content with letting a three year old suffer like this for weeks on end. His tonsils are covered in puss. He is crying more often than not. He is starving. He is exhausted. He is probably not far from dehydration at this point. He’s lucky if he has the strength to play for ten minutes before he ends up back on the couch, crying and holding his throat.
I am somewhat glad I am over two hours away. The whole scenario makes me so damn mad. If I were there, I don’t know if I could handle seeing him. I think I would be on the phone with someone… anyone… demanding the surgery be done immediately. It’s just not humane to let him suffer and it’s already gone on too long.
I wish I could take his pain away, even if just for a while. Long enough for him to fill his belly with all the food he wants, drink to quench his thirst and rehydrate himself, play with his toys uninterrupted by pain, and get some solid sleep.
Get better soon, little man. We love you.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Did She Eat It?
I looked. And I looked. And I looked some more.
On everything. The toys she was playing with all evening. The inside of her clothes. My clothes. The bottoms of my feet. My eyes scanned the carpet a hundred times. Nothing. It was nowhere to be found. She must have eaten it.
I gently pulled it off her baby-soft skin. She gave a little whine; I'm sure the spot was sore from the needle. I figured I may as well take the one off her left thigh and get it over with all at once. I lifted the other side of her dress. The bandaid was gone.
I casually glanced around the floor. Looked at the inside of her dress. Picked up a few toys to check. Didn't see it anywhere. But, she had spent some time playing with her dad while I washed bottles, and I figured he had probably taken it off then.
He was napping before having to work third shift. By the time he got up to get ready for work, Punky was already sleeping. I asked him about the bandaid. He didn't touch it. Damn.
I knew that once I changed her into the dress, she was not in her bedroom or the kitchen. She stayed in the living room and dining room area, and I was confident I would find that bandaid in that vicinity with little effort. I didn't want it left somewhere so she could find it and try to eat it. Everything goes in her mouth these days. The search was on...
A half hour passed and I still hadn't located the missing bandaid. Suddenly, the realization popped in my head...She could have already eaten it! I was even more determined to find it. It had to be there somewhere, it just had to be! I retraced all her steps, the toys she played with, the places she sat, the furniture she climbed on...I even pulled her clothes out of the hamper to check them again.
No bandaid. She ate it, I know she did. Add another "F" to my parenting report card. I can't believe neither one of us noticed her chewing on a bandaid...
I then spent the next half hour searching the web for all possible complications that could arise from swallowing a bandaid the size of a nickel. Apparently, it's a common item for a baby to swallow. Glad to know I'm not the only one who stinks at this mom stuff.
At any rate, I finally managed to convince myself that if she ate it, she would poop it out in a day or so and be none the wiser. I listened to her breathing while she slept. No wheezing. No gasping. No shortness of breath. There was nothing stuck in her airway. If she managed to get it in her mouth, it was most likely safely in her stomach and should travel through her system with no problems...at least that was the case with the cyber babies...but there was always that chance... What if it gets stuck somewhere?
I got to sleep around two a.m., after checking Punky a million times. The alarm went off at six this morning. I stumbled out of bed and headed to the kitchen to start the coffee, then continued through the dining room on my way to the bathroom.
Something caught my eye. I don't know how since it was barely open, and the only light was coming from the hood over the stove. Just as I saw it, I stepped right on it. No...it can't be...not after all my searching...
Yep. There it was. Under my left foot. A tan bandaid on a dark green rug. It wasn't even folded over; it was a perfect little circle as if it floated down from her leg like a leaf in the autumn wind. Right out in the open. Dammit.
I looked at that carpet over and over last night. With all the lights on. I swear on my life, that bandaid was NOT there. I couldn't have missed it. No way in hell.
It's almost like someone was playing a cruel practical joke. I thought I let her eat a friggin' bandaid...all sticky and rubbery...with dried blood and all. I felt awful, I was worried sick, I barely got any sleep...
As mad as I was when I found it, I am so relieved she didn't eat it.
On everything. The toys she was playing with all evening. The inside of her clothes. My clothes. The bottoms of my feet. My eyes scanned the carpet a hundred times. Nothing. It was nowhere to be found. She must have eaten it.
 |
| Nine Months |
I remember seeing them both when I changed her into a cute little dress to take her nine month photo. About an hour or so later, as we sat on the floor playing, her dress bunched up and I noticed the little bandaid on her right thigh was starting to peel. It was still on from her vaccinations earlier that day. I could have removed them sooner, but...I just didn't. Dumb ass.
I gently pulled it off her baby-soft skin. She gave a little whine; I'm sure the spot was sore from the needle. I figured I may as well take the one off her left thigh and get it over with all at once. I lifted the other side of her dress. The bandaid was gone.
I casually glanced around the floor. Looked at the inside of her dress. Picked up a few toys to check. Didn't see it anywhere. But, she had spent some time playing with her dad while I washed bottles, and I figured he had probably taken it off then.
He was napping before having to work third shift. By the time he got up to get ready for work, Punky was already sleeping. I asked him about the bandaid. He didn't touch it. Damn.
I knew that once I changed her into the dress, she was not in her bedroom or the kitchen. She stayed in the living room and dining room area, and I was confident I would find that bandaid in that vicinity with little effort. I didn't want it left somewhere so she could find it and try to eat it. Everything goes in her mouth these days. The search was on...
A half hour passed and I still hadn't located the missing bandaid. Suddenly, the realization popped in my head...She could have already eaten it! I was even more determined to find it. It had to be there somewhere, it just had to be! I retraced all her steps, the toys she played with, the places she sat, the furniture she climbed on...I even pulled her clothes out of the hamper to check them again.
No bandaid. She ate it, I know she did. Add another "F" to my parenting report card. I can't believe neither one of us noticed her chewing on a bandaid...
I then spent the next half hour searching the web for all possible complications that could arise from swallowing a bandaid the size of a nickel. Apparently, it's a common item for a baby to swallow. Glad to know I'm not the only one who stinks at this mom stuff.
At any rate, I finally managed to convince myself that if she ate it, she would poop it out in a day or so and be none the wiser. I listened to her breathing while she slept. No wheezing. No gasping. No shortness of breath. There was nothing stuck in her airway. If she managed to get it in her mouth, it was most likely safely in her stomach and should travel through her system with no problems...at least that was the case with the cyber babies...but there was always that chance... What if it gets stuck somewhere?
I got to sleep around two a.m., after checking Punky a million times. The alarm went off at six this morning. I stumbled out of bed and headed to the kitchen to start the coffee, then continued through the dining room on my way to the bathroom.
Something caught my eye. I don't know how since it was barely open, and the only light was coming from the hood over the stove. Just as I saw it, I stepped right on it. No...it can't be...not after all my searching...
Yep. There it was. Under my left foot. A tan bandaid on a dark green rug. It wasn't even folded over; it was a perfect little circle as if it floated down from her leg like a leaf in the autumn wind. Right out in the open. Dammit.
I looked at that carpet over and over last night. With all the lights on. I swear on my life, that bandaid was NOT there. I couldn't have missed it. No way in hell.
It's almost like someone was playing a cruel practical joke. I thought I let her eat a friggin' bandaid...all sticky and rubbery...with dried blood and all. I felt awful, I was worried sick, I barely got any sleep...
As mad as I was when I found it, I am so relieved she didn't eat it.
Lesson learned. In the future, the bandaids will be removed as soon as we get home from the doctor. Duh.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Three-Fourths of a Year
Nine months today! And a great doctor appointment to boot!
I can't believe it's been nine months already. Punky is growing up way too fast. I no longer have a tiny little baby, although she is still a runt by medical standards. She remains in the 5th percentile, only 15 lbs 10 ounces and 27 inches long. No wonder she still wears some 0-3 month clothes and size 2 diapers. But she is maintaining the normal curve of growth, so there is no concern from the doctor about her size.
She got a hepatitis vaccine in one leg, the first half of the flu shot in the other, and they pricked her finger to check her hemoglobin for anemia and also for a lead test. All levels are normal, thankfully, and she screamed her head off when she felt the needles. She has to go back in a month for the second half of the flu shot, and possibly the first half of the H1N1 vaccine if they have it by then. I know it is so controversial, but I think I am leaning towards going ahead with that vaccine. We'll see what develops over the next month as they continue to test it.
The doctor was also pleased with her development thus far. She may be small, but she's mighty and definitely hitting most milestones ahead of schedule. I was beginning to worry about her language development. She hadn't really begun to babble hard consonant sounds, and from what I read, she should have been doing that already. She coos all of the vowel sounds, and even seems to say "hi" once in a while, but no mama, dada, or baba yet. Then, this past week, she finally started with gaga gaga gaga...so now it begins. I think she'll progress quickly from here. Once she learns something new, there's no stopping her.
She still eats whatever you give her, and wants everything you put in your mouth. I started giving her some of the stage 3 baby food this week; so far so good, although she did spit up the spaghetti and meat sauce kind. For whatever reason, it didn't agree with her and now she has a stain on her cute, purple pants. I've been trying to give her more table food when I can, but it's hard sometimes since she is still toothless.
She is doing well now with feeding herself puffs and mum-mums, although she seems to prefer to drop them on the floor first and then pick them up along with whatever fuzz or hair is on the carpet. She likes to put her hand in the jar and pull out a fist full, and if she's lucky, one gets in her mouth and the rest hit the floor.
She is now able to walk by herself behind the car push-toy we bought her. She does it so nonchalantly as if it's no big deal, while we clap and cheer like there's no tomorrow. She must think we're nuts. Perceptive baby.
She waves bye-bye, but not always at the exact moment she's supposed to do it. She also has gotten the hang of clapping her patties, and now whenever we say "Yay!" and clap at her many awesome achievements, she smiles and claps her patties along with us. It's too adorable...my heart just melts every time. And when I sing songs with hand motions that she's seen time and time again, she attempts to do some of them on her own.
She is still a total monkey, climbing over everything and never sitting still for a second. When she sees something she wants, she'll go to the ends of the earth to get it, and sometimes it is hard to distract her. She focuses on the prize and is down right determined to reach it. Subborn baby. It's a toss up where that came from; we both can be bull-headed at times.
She still insists on trying to stand up in front of the TV, and we still tell her "No!" and drag her little hiney away from it a thousand times a day. She hears you say "no", she stops what she's doing, turns to look at you, smiles, lets out a giggle, and then goes for it in the blink of an eye. She knows what we are saying, I'm fully convinced she understands, she just chooses not to listen...yet. In order to stop her, we have to divert her attention to something else...and repeat the process five minutes later when she realizes she's doing something different than what she planned on doing.
When I read to her now, the pictures in the books hold her attention for a few minutes. Before, all she wanted to do was chew on them; now I get through a few pages before the chomping begins. I hope someday she loves to read as much as I did as a kid. There are so many great books that I loved, and I can't wait to share them with her.
I want to try to get a good picture of her today on her nine-month birthday, but she no longer sits still like she did when we had the six months photo shoot so this ought to be a challenge. She is napping now, sleeping off those horrible shots, and will hopefully wake up her usual smiley self and not a crankpot.
I can't believe it's been nine months already. Punky is growing up way too fast. I no longer have a tiny little baby, although she is still a runt by medical standards. She remains in the 5th percentile, only 15 lbs 10 ounces and 27 inches long. No wonder she still wears some 0-3 month clothes and size 2 diapers. But she is maintaining the normal curve of growth, so there is no concern from the doctor about her size.
She got a hepatitis vaccine in one leg, the first half of the flu shot in the other, and they pricked her finger to check her hemoglobin for anemia and also for a lead test. All levels are normal, thankfully, and she screamed her head off when she felt the needles. She has to go back in a month for the second half of the flu shot, and possibly the first half of the H1N1 vaccine if they have it by then. I know it is so controversial, but I think I am leaning towards going ahead with that vaccine. We'll see what develops over the next month as they continue to test it.
The doctor was also pleased with her development thus far. She may be small, but she's mighty and definitely hitting most milestones ahead of schedule. I was beginning to worry about her language development. She hadn't really begun to babble hard consonant sounds, and from what I read, she should have been doing that already. She coos all of the vowel sounds, and even seems to say "hi" once in a while, but no mama, dada, or baba yet. Then, this past week, she finally started with gaga gaga gaga...so now it begins. I think she'll progress quickly from here. Once she learns something new, there's no stopping her.
She still eats whatever you give her, and wants everything you put in your mouth. I started giving her some of the stage 3 baby food this week; so far so good, although she did spit up the spaghetti and meat sauce kind. For whatever reason, it didn't agree with her and now she has a stain on her cute, purple pants. I've been trying to give her more table food when I can, but it's hard sometimes since she is still toothless.
She is doing well now with feeding herself puffs and mum-mums, although she seems to prefer to drop them on the floor first and then pick them up along with whatever fuzz or hair is on the carpet. She likes to put her hand in the jar and pull out a fist full, and if she's lucky, one gets in her mouth and the rest hit the floor.
She is now able to walk by herself behind the car push-toy we bought her. She does it so nonchalantly as if it's no big deal, while we clap and cheer like there's no tomorrow. She must think we're nuts. Perceptive baby.
She waves bye-bye, but not always at the exact moment she's supposed to do it. She also has gotten the hang of clapping her patties, and now whenever we say "Yay!" and clap at her many awesome achievements, she smiles and claps her patties along with us. It's too adorable...my heart just melts every time. And when I sing songs with hand motions that she's seen time and time again, she attempts to do some of them on her own.
She is still a total monkey, climbing over everything and never sitting still for a second. When she sees something she wants, she'll go to the ends of the earth to get it, and sometimes it is hard to distract her. She focuses on the prize and is down right determined to reach it. Subborn baby. It's a toss up where that came from; we both can be bull-headed at times.
She still insists on trying to stand up in front of the TV, and we still tell her "No!" and drag her little hiney away from it a thousand times a day. She hears you say "no", she stops what she's doing, turns to look at you, smiles, lets out a giggle, and then goes for it in the blink of an eye. She knows what we are saying, I'm fully convinced she understands, she just chooses not to listen...yet. In order to stop her, we have to divert her attention to something else...and repeat the process five minutes later when she realizes she's doing something different than what she planned on doing.
When I read to her now, the pictures in the books hold her attention for a few minutes. Before, all she wanted to do was chew on them; now I get through a few pages before the chomping begins. I hope someday she loves to read as much as I did as a kid. There are so many great books that I loved, and I can't wait to share them with her.
I want to try to get a good picture of her today on her nine-month birthday, but she no longer sits still like she did when we had the six months photo shoot so this ought to be a challenge. She is napping now, sleeping off those horrible shots, and will hopefully wake up her usual smiley self and not a crankpot.
Monday, September 21, 2009
The Wonderful Weekend
It truly was. And I’m sad it’s Monday again.
He worked from 3 p.m. to 3 a.m. all weekend, so it was pretty much just me and Punky Lee. And we did…nothing really. Just enjoyed hanging out at home and spending time together. And she was so good; she even took great naps for me. That’s a rarity when mama’s home with her.
Her gums are really hurting now. They are all bumpy, and in the right light you can see the white teeth inside them. She is having such a hard time. She’ll be nine months a week from today, and still not one single tooth has broken through. She was a bit whiny and clingy off and on all weekend, but I attribute it all to her sore mouth.
We played, and played, and played. She is really fun now. Things catch her attention and fascinate her. The simplest little things can keep her amused for a very long time. And when she discovers something that tickles her fancy, she wants to do it over, and over, and over, and over.
She’s taken a liking to our basket chair in the living room. She loves to lay back on it while someone spins it (slowly) around in circles. She’ll sit an hour if you are willing to keep turning it. Grammy started it, and now Punky can’t get enough of it.
She also has a fascination for the water in the sink. Whether I am washing bottles in the kitchen sink or brushing my teeth in the bathroom, if she hears running water she comes over and whines until I pick her up and let her put her patties in and splash. Grammy apparently started this also. I’m detecting a pattern here…
It is absolutely impossible to eat anything these days without Punky at your side wanting some. I don’t know if she’s hungry, or if she is just amused with the taste of the real food she’s been sampling lately. I feed her dinner before I eat, so I find it hard to believe she is still starving, yet she carries on if I don’t share my food with her. I don’t mind if it is something she can have, but sometimes it’s not and then I need to give her some of her puffs or some nibbles of bread while I finish eating. I need to talk to the doctor next Monday. Maybe she is still hungry. I’m just cautious about what I give her; there is only so much you can eat toothless.
She was awake at 5 a.m. yesterday so when she napped, mama napped with her. I can’t remember the last time I did that. It’s been months I’m sure. I never have time to nap. But, yesterday I was exhausted so I made time. And it was worth it.
We took a nice walk last night and sat outside for a while. It was the last weekend of summer, and it went out in style with beautiful weather. Then it was bath time, and she loved it as usual.
There really wasn’t much excitement, no big news or achievements, but after Punky went to bed last night I got to thinking about how wonderful the weekend was. We really had quality time together…and a nice quantity, too.
She giggled. I laughed. I read stories. I sang songs. We danced. We played. We cuddled. We rolled around the floor. We bonded. It amazes me how I love her more each and every day; the feeling just grows and grows.
He worked from 3 p.m. to 3 a.m. all weekend, so it was pretty much just me and Punky Lee. And we did…nothing really. Just enjoyed hanging out at home and spending time together. And she was so good; she even took great naps for me. That’s a rarity when mama’s home with her.
Her gums are really hurting now. They are all bumpy, and in the right light you can see the white teeth inside them. She is having such a hard time. She’ll be nine months a week from today, and still not one single tooth has broken through. She was a bit whiny and clingy off and on all weekend, but I attribute it all to her sore mouth.
We played, and played, and played. She is really fun now. Things catch her attention and fascinate her. The simplest little things can keep her amused for a very long time. And when she discovers something that tickles her fancy, she wants to do it over, and over, and over, and over.
She’s taken a liking to our basket chair in the living room. She loves to lay back on it while someone spins it (slowly) around in circles. She’ll sit an hour if you are willing to keep turning it. Grammy started it, and now Punky can’t get enough of it.
She also has a fascination for the water in the sink. Whether I am washing bottles in the kitchen sink or brushing my teeth in the bathroom, if she hears running water she comes over and whines until I pick her up and let her put her patties in and splash. Grammy apparently started this also. I’m detecting a pattern here…
It is absolutely impossible to eat anything these days without Punky at your side wanting some. I don’t know if she’s hungry, or if she is just amused with the taste of the real food she’s been sampling lately. I feed her dinner before I eat, so I find it hard to believe she is still starving, yet she carries on if I don’t share my food with her. I don’t mind if it is something she can have, but sometimes it’s not and then I need to give her some of her puffs or some nibbles of bread while I finish eating. I need to talk to the doctor next Monday. Maybe she is still hungry. I’m just cautious about what I give her; there is only so much you can eat toothless.
She was awake at 5 a.m. yesterday so when she napped, mama napped with her. I can’t remember the last time I did that. It’s been months I’m sure. I never have time to nap. But, yesterday I was exhausted so I made time. And it was worth it.
We took a nice walk last night and sat outside for a while. It was the last weekend of summer, and it went out in style with beautiful weather. Then it was bath time, and she loved it as usual.
There really wasn’t much excitement, no big news or achievements, but after Punky went to bed last night I got to thinking about how wonderful the weekend was. We really had quality time together…and a nice quantity, too.
She giggled. I laughed. I read stories. I sang songs. We danced. We played. We cuddled. We rolled around the floor. We bonded. It amazes me how I love her more each and every day; the feeling just grows and grows.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Punky Needs a Helmet
Seriously. She does.
I am thankful she didn't have a doctor appointment this past week. One look at her head/face may have warranted a call to CPS. No joke.
It's unreal how many times she bangs her head these days. I can't help but feel like the worst mom ever, and it's even worse if it happens on someone else's watch.
Last Monday night, she flipped the TV remote off the end table and cracked herself in the forehead. Of course, she got hit with the heavier end that has the battery compartment. One black and blue mark, left forehead.
Tuesday night, she fell and somehow hit her face on her music table she loves so much. Over the past few months, she has pulled herself up at that table and then sat herself back down literally thousands of times with no problems. I have no clue what made this time different, but she had a nice cut just outside of her right eye and developed a puffy, partial shiner under it.
On Wednesday, she was playing with a toy on the floor and decided it would be fun to lay on her back and hold it straight up in the air above her head. Then let it fall. It wasn't a stuffed animal; we're not that lucky. It was a large, hard, plastic toy. One black and blue mark, right forehead.
Thursday morning, she woke up with a little cut under her other eye. I presume it was a self-inflicted scratch and have since cut her nails. Anyway, one nickel size red blotch with a cut in the center under the left eye.
By that point, Monday's remote control injury had turned that puke green color that all black and blues morph into eventually...
She was a mess, and I wouldn't blame anyone for assuming the worst. I get so frustrated sometimes. I'm her mama, I'm supposed to protect her.
I know, "kids get hurt...blah,blah,blah..." I've heard it many times now and I get it, really I do, but exactly how often is my concern.
Is this normal, or do I have the klutziest baby on the planet? I've been known to be a bit accident prone myself, so maybe it's in the genes...
Do I seriously just suck at this? Come on, I can take it even if the truth hurts.
I was sitting right next to her when the first two occured. I looked at the TV for one second when the remote flew up and hit her. When she fell by her table, I was sitting on one side and her dad was on the other. Only twelve inches from her and neither one of us caught her. Truth be told, I saw her go down on her hiney, but didn't even realize she hit her face until she started crying and I saw the cut.
The third happened while I was at work. Again, I feel responsible because I wasn't there to watch her. Although, given the previous days' track records, I probably wouldn't have caught the damn toy anyhow, or even thought to stop her from holding it over her head in the first place.
The fourth happened while she was sleeping, so I guess I am partially off the hook; however, I knew her nails needed to be cut and I hadn't gotten around to doing it. Yeah, my fault again.
The next few days were quiet, a minor bump here or there as she crawled into things but nothing hard enough to cause a tear. I began to think maybe we just hit a rough patch and it was over now.
Last night, the three of us were in her bedroom. I was standing on the bed, hanging her freshly washed valance on her window. Dad was holding her fleshly washed sheet and matress cover (she keeps waking up soaked and that is aggravating enough to deserve it's own post down the road). Punky was on her crib matress, which was out of the crib and laying on the floor.
When I caught sight of her out of the corner of my eye, I said out loud that she was going to roll off of it and crack her face. The words were still hanging in the air when it happened. Again, neither of us had a chance to grab her. Face met floor once again, thankfully soft carpet, but the tears came and lasted a few minutes. Her cheek was red for a bit but she escaped another black and blue.
She is fast, really fast, and it's impossible to have my eyes planted on her every second. And she's so curious and has absolutely no fear. She does something, gets hurt, cries, and two minutes later she's right back at it again.
I hope she gets out of this stage quickly, for the sake of her poor little head and my sanity. Her nine month doctor appointment is scheduled for the 28th of this month. Let's see if I can manage to keep her boo-boo free for that visit. Short of duct taping her to the carpet, I have no idea how to accomplish it.
I am thankful she didn't have a doctor appointment this past week. One look at her head/face may have warranted a call to CPS. No joke.
It's unreal how many times she bangs her head these days. I can't help but feel like the worst mom ever, and it's even worse if it happens on someone else's watch.
Last Monday night, she flipped the TV remote off the end table and cracked herself in the forehead. Of course, she got hit with the heavier end that has the battery compartment. One black and blue mark, left forehead.
Tuesday night, she fell and somehow hit her face on her music table she loves so much. Over the past few months, she has pulled herself up at that table and then sat herself back down literally thousands of times with no problems. I have no clue what made this time different, but she had a nice cut just outside of her right eye and developed a puffy, partial shiner under it.
On Wednesday, she was playing with a toy on the floor and decided it would be fun to lay on her back and hold it straight up in the air above her head. Then let it fall. It wasn't a stuffed animal; we're not that lucky. It was a large, hard, plastic toy. One black and blue mark, right forehead.
Thursday morning, she woke up with a little cut under her other eye. I presume it was a self-inflicted scratch and have since cut her nails. Anyway, one nickel size red blotch with a cut in the center under the left eye.
By that point, Monday's remote control injury had turned that puke green color that all black and blues morph into eventually...
She was a mess, and I wouldn't blame anyone for assuming the worst. I get so frustrated sometimes. I'm her mama, I'm supposed to protect her.
I know, "kids get hurt...blah,blah,blah..." I've heard it many times now and I get it, really I do, but exactly how often is my concern.
Is this normal, or do I have the klutziest baby on the planet? I've been known to be a bit accident prone myself, so maybe it's in the genes...
Do I seriously just suck at this? Come on, I can take it even if the truth hurts.
I was sitting right next to her when the first two occured. I looked at the TV for one second when the remote flew up and hit her. When she fell by her table, I was sitting on one side and her dad was on the other. Only twelve inches from her and neither one of us caught her. Truth be told, I saw her go down on her hiney, but didn't even realize she hit her face until she started crying and I saw the cut.
The third happened while I was at work. Again, I feel responsible because I wasn't there to watch her. Although, given the previous days' track records, I probably wouldn't have caught the damn toy anyhow, or even thought to stop her from holding it over her head in the first place.
The fourth happened while she was sleeping, so I guess I am partially off the hook; however, I knew her nails needed to be cut and I hadn't gotten around to doing it. Yeah, my fault again.
The next few days were quiet, a minor bump here or there as she crawled into things but nothing hard enough to cause a tear. I began to think maybe we just hit a rough patch and it was over now.
Last night, the three of us were in her bedroom. I was standing on the bed, hanging her freshly washed valance on her window. Dad was holding her fleshly washed sheet and matress cover (she keeps waking up soaked and that is aggravating enough to deserve it's own post down the road). Punky was on her crib matress, which was out of the crib and laying on the floor.
When I caught sight of her out of the corner of my eye, I said out loud that she was going to roll off of it and crack her face. The words were still hanging in the air when it happened. Again, neither of us had a chance to grab her. Face met floor once again, thankfully soft carpet, but the tears came and lasted a few minutes. Her cheek was red for a bit but she escaped another black and blue.
She is fast, really fast, and it's impossible to have my eyes planted on her every second. And she's so curious and has absolutely no fear. She does something, gets hurt, cries, and two minutes later she's right back at it again.
I hope she gets out of this stage quickly, for the sake of her poor little head and my sanity. Her nine month doctor appointment is scheduled for the 28th of this month. Let's see if I can manage to keep her boo-boo free for that visit. Short of duct taping her to the carpet, I have no idea how to accomplish it.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
25 Random Things
I have to admit, this is something I've seen on other blogs I've been reading, and I thought it might be fun for me to write. Honestly, I think it will be challenging to come up with 25 random things about me...this post may take a week or more to publish...
Here goes, in no particular order:
1. I cannot live without mint chapstick. Those who know me can attest to my insane addiction. And it is definitely an addiction.
2. I think the hardest thing to cope with in my daily life is my allergy to animals...and the asthma attack that follows shortly afterwards. Without it, I'd probably be a crazy cat lady.
3. Currently I am struggling to decide if I want to try for another baby or just be happy and satisfied with the perfect one I have. I am really stuck exactly in the middle, and I feel like I need a resolution. Now.
Geez, I am only three things in, and I can already see how each of these "things" could be an entire post on its own. Yikes. Maybe I am thinking too deeply...maybe I should stay in the shallow end of the pool.
4. I love ice cream.
5. I find jigsaw puzzles relaxing.
6. I have had one car accident.
Gosh, how dull. Utterly boring. Completely blah. Simple just isn't my style, I guess. Let me try those again:
4. I used to love ice cream, but the more I think about it, I'm not that wild about it now. And I don't know when that happened.
5. One of the very best memories I have involves a jigsaw puzzle. Actually, I would say two of my best memories...
6. At age 17, I totaled my parents' brand new Chevy S10 Blazer. Rolled it. Spun it. Blew all the windows right out of it. In the middle of town. In four lanes of traffic. Going about 15 mph. Now that's talent...
Better. Much, much better. Now to continue...
7. If I could go back and do it over, I would join the drama club in high school.
8. I believe in guardian angels and I imagine them holding the plane in the air every time I fly.
9. I don't do scary movies. I believe it can all really happen and I'd rather not miss several nights of sleep waiting for the ax-waving, chainsaw-revving, blood-sucking, bone-crushing, vampire / zombie / werewolf / psychopath / serial killer / rabid dog / alien / ghost to jump out of my closet and eat me.
10. I have absolutely nothing in common with the girl I have considered to be my best friend for the last thirty years. Truly, we are complete opposites.
So far that wasn't so tough. Maybe this won't be a difficult as I thought. Let's see, what else have I got?
11. My greatest phobia is a fear of sharks. A college professor of mine (Environmental Geology...don't ask why) commented that if you've ever been in the ocean up to your waist, you've been within three feet of a shark. That was it for me; I haven't been in the ocean since.
12. Most of the time I am lonely. Even when I'm with people, sometimes I still feel alone inside. I don't know why.
13. I can't seem to remain standing if there is even the slightest bit of snow/ice on the ground. I've had more falls than I can count or remember. Always in front of others, of course.
14. I don't play nice when I am hungry. I getcranky miserable quickly, and the only solution is to find food fast. Just ask those who were on the march in Vegas.
15. I have had the same cell phone number for almost seventeen years now. Not many people can say that. Damn, just made myself feel old.
I seem to be slowing down a bit here...these last ten may take a while...
16. I love music. All kinds of music. It has the power to turn my bad day into a good one. It can turn my sadness into joy. It can turn chaos into tranquility. For this, I would credit my mom, who is still constantly singing something or another...
17. I think the fact that wisdom comes with age is one of life's greatest injustices. I think you should know everything while you're young and have enough energy to do things right. What good is wisdom if you've already wasted years of your life screwing it up and now it's too late to fix it?
18. If I had my choice, I would rather work for a man than a woman any day. Women in business can be spiteful, demanding, controlling, manipulative bitches. Myself included.
19. I worry way too much about what others think. It's definitely a flaw. I wasted a lot of precious time not acting for fear of others' opinions. And I still haven't learned not to care.
20. My favorite color is green.
Okay, that last one was a bit lame, but it's starting to get rough. Only five more to go... I think I can, I think I can...
21. I would be happier sitting in a room that was dirty but arranged symmetrically, than in a clean room with random object placement.
22. I have a strong sixth sense. I trust my gut over logic or reason every time. It hasn't failed me yet.
23. I love standup comedy. I admire anyone who can make people laugh. George Carlin was my favorite.
24. The best thing I have ever felt in life is a hug from my baby girl. It is a feeling like no other and it can't be put into words.
25. For the future, I am most excited about watching Punky discover the world. There is an endless number of "firsts" on the horizon, and I can't wait to see her experience each one.
There! Done! I was right, it was fun. And it only took two days, not a week.
Here goes, in no particular order:
1. I cannot live without mint chapstick. Those who know me can attest to my insane addiction. And it is definitely an addiction.
2. I think the hardest thing to cope with in my daily life is my allergy to animals...and the asthma attack that follows shortly afterwards. Without it, I'd probably be a crazy cat lady.
3. Currently I am struggling to decide if I want to try for another baby or just be happy and satisfied with the perfect one I have. I am really stuck exactly in the middle, and I feel like I need a resolution. Now.
Geez, I am only three things in, and I can already see how each of these "things" could be an entire post on its own. Yikes. Maybe I am thinking too deeply...maybe I should stay in the shallow end of the pool.
4. I love ice cream.
5. I find jigsaw puzzles relaxing.
6. I have had one car accident.
Gosh, how dull. Utterly boring. Completely blah. Simple just isn't my style, I guess. Let me try those again:
4. I used to love ice cream, but the more I think about it, I'm not that wild about it now. And I don't know when that happened.
5. One of the very best memories I have involves a jigsaw puzzle. Actually, I would say two of my best memories...
6. At age 17, I totaled my parents' brand new Chevy S10 Blazer. Rolled it. Spun it. Blew all the windows right out of it. In the middle of town. In four lanes of traffic. Going about 15 mph. Now that's talent...
Better. Much, much better. Now to continue...
7. If I could go back and do it over, I would join the drama club in high school.
8. I believe in guardian angels and I imagine them holding the plane in the air every time I fly.
9. I don't do scary movies. I believe it can all really happen and I'd rather not miss several nights of sleep waiting for the ax-waving, chainsaw-revving, blood-sucking, bone-crushing, vampire / zombie / werewolf / psychopath / serial killer / rabid dog / alien / ghost to jump out of my closet and eat me.
10. I have absolutely nothing in common with the girl I have considered to be my best friend for the last thirty years. Truly, we are complete opposites.
So far that wasn't so tough. Maybe this won't be a difficult as I thought. Let's see, what else have I got?
11. My greatest phobia is a fear of sharks. A college professor of mine (Environmental Geology...don't ask why) commented that if you've ever been in the ocean up to your waist, you've been within three feet of a shark. That was it for me; I haven't been in the ocean since.
12. Most of the time I am lonely. Even when I'm with people, sometimes I still feel alone inside. I don't know why.
13. I can't seem to remain standing if there is even the slightest bit of snow/ice on the ground. I've had more falls than I can count or remember. Always in front of others, of course.
14. I don't play nice when I am hungry. I get
15. I have had the same cell phone number for almost seventeen years now. Not many people can say that. Damn, just made myself feel old.
I seem to be slowing down a bit here...these last ten may take a while...
16. I love music. All kinds of music. It has the power to turn my bad day into a good one. It can turn my sadness into joy. It can turn chaos into tranquility. For this, I would credit my mom, who is still constantly singing something or another...
17. I think the fact that wisdom comes with age is one of life's greatest injustices. I think you should know everything while you're young and have enough energy to do things right. What good is wisdom if you've already wasted years of your life screwing it up and now it's too late to fix it?
18. If I had my choice, I would rather work for a man than a woman any day. Women in business can be spiteful, demanding, controlling, manipulative bitches. Myself included.
19. I worry way too much about what others think. It's definitely a flaw. I wasted a lot of precious time not acting for fear of others' opinions. And I still haven't learned not to care.
20. My favorite color is green.
Okay, that last one was a bit lame, but it's starting to get rough. Only five more to go... I think I can, I think I can...
21. I would be happier sitting in a room that was dirty but arranged symmetrically, than in a clean room with random object placement.
22. I have a strong sixth sense. I trust my gut over logic or reason every time. It hasn't failed me yet.
23. I love standup comedy. I admire anyone who can make people laugh. George Carlin was my favorite.
24. The best thing I have ever felt in life is a hug from my baby girl. It is a feeling like no other and it can't be put into words.
25. For the future, I am most excited about watching Punky discover the world. There is an endless number of "firsts" on the horizon, and I can't wait to see her experience each one.
There! Done! I was right, it was fun. And it only took two days, not a week.
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