It's that time again already...another month come and gone...
We took Punky back to the doctor on Thursday for her follow-up visit. Good thing we kept that appointment...in only two days her viral no-antibiotics-required illness morphed into an ear infection. Needless to say, she had her first taste of amoxicillin this week and she doesn't like it one bit. It's a struggle to get it in her mouth. We ruined several pairs of jammies with medicine stains. Seriously, that shit is bright neon pink. I bet it would glow in the dark. This morning I passed on the struggle and mixed it in her cereal. Pink bubblegum flavored apple-cinnamon oatmeal didn't look too appetizing, but she ate it. Six doses down, only fourteen more to go. Ugh.
So, on top of my already consuming "first time with a really sick baby" worries, I also had the fear of an allergic reaction to the medicine. Her dad and I both have penicillin allergies and my nephew had a nasty reaction to amoxicillin. I braced myself for the worst. I'm happy to say so far, so good. After four days with no problems, I'm hoping we're in the clear.
The fever seems to have disappeared this weekend and she's acting more like herself again. She's playing with her toys and running around like a nut. The awful, congested cough is still lingering though, along with a snotty, runny nose. If she sees anyone even heading for the tissue box, she bursts into tears and runs away screaming. Her poor little nose is probably so sore. I hope she is all better before our upcoming trip home for Easter. We don't go back to the doc for a follow-up until April 9th.
As expected, they postponed her vaccinations until her eighteen month check-up, but they did all the other evaluations required for fifteen months. Her weight, without a diaper, was 18 lbs., 7 oz. She is now 30-1/4 inches tall. She grew over two inches since January. They were happy with all her milestones and she got another new book at the visit. And for the record, I was honest about the bedtime bottle she still takes. As bad as it sounds, I planned on lying to avoid the condescending look from the doc, but when the time came I told the truth and not a word was said about it. We really need to work on that though; I think the time to try is right around the corner.
I am a bit disappointed we had to miss the Easter egg hunt today that my company was hosting. It's barely forty degrees outside and the wind is whipping. I just couldn't see taking Punky out in this weather when she is still coughing like that. Oh well, we still have one planned for the kids at my mom's on Easter. Even though she can't eat the candy inside them, she'll probably enjoy playing with them.
This month brought a few more words to Punky's vocabulary. She has the family down pat now. Mama, dada, ga (grammy), pap, unca (for one uncle), unca ga ga (for the other), anp (aunt P), and she calls my nephew something...but we can't get a handle on exactly what she's saying. She also learned the word keys and always wants to play with mine. When I ask her where they go, she tells me "car." She says soap...well, oap... I know there are a few more new ones but they escape me right now.
She finally did what I'd been expecting her to do for months now. I was filling her tub the other night and she went over the side and into it head first. Thankfully I never leave her alone in there for a second and she was smart enough to put her hands down to prevent her head from going under water. The top of her hair was wet though. It scared her for a second, but no sooner did I put her down and she was right back at the side of the tub trying to pull herself over again. It wouldn't surprise me one bit if she grows up to be a blockbuster film stunt double.
I had to re-arrange her bedroom furniture this weekend because she discovered she could stand on the cot and flick the lights off and on. Now that she knows what light switches do and how to work them, she wants to be the one to flip the switch whenever we go into or out of any room.
One more top tooth recently broke through the gum line. The total count is now at seven. She had many opportunities to eat what we were having for dinner this month now that she can actually chew stuff. And she loved it all. She is starting to feed herself with a spoon as well. She needs help scooping, but she makes it in her mouth without spilling much...usually. The thicker the food, the better. Apples top the list as her favorite food this month. She hates when I cut it up; she wants to bite it right from the source. She does well with it but sometimes she gets too big a chunk at once and sends mama into panic mode.
Her latest antic is walking like a duck. She waddles around the house to the amusement of her silly parents. Her dad keeps trying to catch it on video but every time the camera is on, she refuses to do it. Of course.
I'm excited to see what this next month brings in Punky's development. She is slowly transitioning from a baby to a little girl. It breaks my heart but it's thrilling nonetheless. I think she'll be a total chatterbox by eighteen months. It's going to be a great summer!
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Silly Things Saturday: My Vertical Challenge
Well, Friday at ten came and went. I was too tired to write anything by that point. It was a long week with a sick baby, but I'll write more on that tomorrow.
So, after kicking things around in my head all week, I've decided to make this the next theme for a few weeks. Every family has those stories that are told repeatedly at gatherings. When you stop and think about it, very rarely are those stories of serious or crowning moments in someone's life; nine out of ten times it's the silly stuff that gets re-told whenever the opportunity presents itself. People connect through humor and bond through laughter. And my family has its share of the giggles when we get together.
I'm sure that by the time Punky is old enough to read this, she will have heard these stories a million times. But since my main goal in writing is to provide her with something to look back on years down the road, such stories can hardly be ignored. Some will be long, some short...some about me, some about others in her family...and eventually, if I keep writing, some are bound to be about her.
Before poking fun at anyone else's embarrassments, it's only fair to start with myself. I've had some doozies, but a large majority of my shining moments tend to revolve around my inability to remain upright...
I guess you could say I am vertically challenged. For whatever reason, the simple act of standing seems to elude me often. I lost count of the number of falls in the last thirty-seven years, but my family could easily spew off the highlights.
The amazing thing is that I was such an athletic kid. A gymnast nonetheless. I was strong, flexible, and able to stay on a four inch beam. I could walk the entire way to my grandmother's house on a train track rail without stepping off once. I could do flips on roller skates. I could climb almost anything. And none of these activities ever caused me injury.
Walking, on the other hand...
My sister will surely tell Punky all about the time I went running after a boyfriend who left something in our house. It was dark, it was snowy, and I wanted to catch him before he pulled out... She stood in the window and watched as I made it about half way across the yard...then fell flat on my ass and slid the rest of the way. The bottom half of my body came to rest under his truck. Thankfully he heard my arms crash into the driver's door as I tried to stop myself... My sister laughed for days and still cracks up every time she has the chance to tell that story.
My mom will probably tell Punky about the time I fell in front of the church at midnight mass one Christmas Eve. I was probably around ten. Again in my defense, it was a bit icy...but I seemed to be the only one affected by it. Toddlers, senior citizens, a guy on crutches all made it in just fine. I went down so fast my family didn't even know what happened at first. Flat on my back. Ouch.
An entire bus of school students could tell the tale of the day I struggled to board. My first fall was directly in front of the bus while trying to cross the road. I think I fell three more times before I managed to get up the freakin' steps and sit down. Damn snow. The entire bus was hysterical. I wanted to die.
Her uncle will tell her all about the time I left for work in the morning and did a fantastic upside down turtle impression on the sidewalk. Again flat on my back. Legs straight up in the air. Arms straight up in the air. And I couldn't move. This was my most impressive fall though. I was carrying a cup of coffee and an open purse. I landed without spilling a drop of either.
No one witnessed my fall one summer morning as I walked to my car. A narrow, sloping sidewalk led to the stone parking lot at my apartment. Till this day I haven't a clue exactly what happened. I landed on the sidewalk face first, rolled down the slope, and ended up on my back on the rocks between two parked cars. I waited a few minutes before trying to move. Everything hurt and I thought for sure I had a broken bone. But no, I just tore my pants, busted both knees, scraped up my face and arms on the rocks, and was a half hour late for work because I had to change my clothes and tend to my wounds.
It pains me to say this is really just the tip of the iceberg. I could go on and on with similar tales, but suffice it to say that I've fallen up stairs, down stairs, and over dog leashes. I've tripped over my own two feet, other people's feet, and on any crack in the sidewalk larger than the width of a dime. Add snow or ice to the picture and it's a recipe for disaster. And people wonder why I grew up at the base of the Pocono Mountains and have never attempted to ski. I'd end up in traction for sure.
Oh, and then there's the time I fell at fifteen weeks pregnant. Technically I passed out and then fell... When I came to about ten minutes later, I was flat on my stomach on the dining room floor in a puddle of blood gushing from under my chin. I was then transported by ambulance to the hospital to be stitched and checked for pregnancy loss. I knew my baby would be a tough cookie the minute they told me everything was fine.
But that story will be told to her by me. It's a rite of passage in motherhood to tell your kids what you endured while pregnant. And since I had no morning sickness, no indigestion, no hemorrhoids, no trouble sleeping, no crazy cravings, and only minimal aches and pains, this story and my C-section scar are all I've got in my arsenal.
So, after kicking things around in my head all week, I've decided to make this the next theme for a few weeks. Every family has those stories that are told repeatedly at gatherings. When you stop and think about it, very rarely are those stories of serious or crowning moments in someone's life; nine out of ten times it's the silly stuff that gets re-told whenever the opportunity presents itself. People connect through humor and bond through laughter. And my family has its share of the giggles when we get together.
I'm sure that by the time Punky is old enough to read this, she will have heard these stories a million times. But since my main goal in writing is to provide her with something to look back on years down the road, such stories can hardly be ignored. Some will be long, some short...some about me, some about others in her family...and eventually, if I keep writing, some are bound to be about her.
Before poking fun at anyone else's embarrassments, it's only fair to start with myself. I've had some doozies, but a large majority of my shining moments tend to revolve around my inability to remain upright...
I guess you could say I am vertically challenged. For whatever reason, the simple act of standing seems to elude me often. I lost count of the number of falls in the last thirty-seven years, but my family could easily spew off the highlights.
The amazing thing is that I was such an athletic kid. A gymnast nonetheless. I was strong, flexible, and able to stay on a four inch beam. I could walk the entire way to my grandmother's house on a train track rail without stepping off once. I could do flips on roller skates. I could climb almost anything. And none of these activities ever caused me injury.
Walking, on the other hand...
My sister will surely tell Punky all about the time I went running after a boyfriend who left something in our house. It was dark, it was snowy, and I wanted to catch him before he pulled out... She stood in the window and watched as I made it about half way across the yard...then fell flat on my ass and slid the rest of the way. The bottom half of my body came to rest under his truck. Thankfully he heard my arms crash into the driver's door as I tried to stop myself... My sister laughed for days and still cracks up every time she has the chance to tell that story.
My mom will probably tell Punky about the time I fell in front of the church at midnight mass one Christmas Eve. I was probably around ten. Again in my defense, it was a bit icy...but I seemed to be the only one affected by it. Toddlers, senior citizens, a guy on crutches all made it in just fine. I went down so fast my family didn't even know what happened at first. Flat on my back. Ouch.
An entire bus of school students could tell the tale of the day I struggled to board. My first fall was directly in front of the bus while trying to cross the road. I think I fell three more times before I managed to get up the freakin' steps and sit down. Damn snow. The entire bus was hysterical. I wanted to die.
Her uncle will tell her all about the time I left for work in the morning and did a fantastic upside down turtle impression on the sidewalk. Again flat on my back. Legs straight up in the air. Arms straight up in the air. And I couldn't move. This was my most impressive fall though. I was carrying a cup of coffee and an open purse. I landed without spilling a drop of either.
No one witnessed my fall one summer morning as I walked to my car. A narrow, sloping sidewalk led to the stone parking lot at my apartment. Till this day I haven't a clue exactly what happened. I landed on the sidewalk face first, rolled down the slope, and ended up on my back on the rocks between two parked cars. I waited a few minutes before trying to move. Everything hurt and I thought for sure I had a broken bone. But no, I just tore my pants, busted both knees, scraped up my face and arms on the rocks, and was a half hour late for work because I had to change my clothes and tend to my wounds.
It pains me to say this is really just the tip of the iceberg. I could go on and on with similar tales, but suffice it to say that I've fallen up stairs, down stairs, and over dog leashes. I've tripped over my own two feet, other people's feet, and on any crack in the sidewalk larger than the width of a dime. Add snow or ice to the picture and it's a recipe for disaster. And people wonder why I grew up at the base of the Pocono Mountains and have never attempted to ski. I'd end up in traction for sure.
Oh, and then there's the time I fell at fifteen weeks pregnant. Technically I passed out and then fell... When I came to about ten minutes later, I was flat on my stomach on the dining room floor in a puddle of blood gushing from under my chin. I was then transported by ambulance to the hospital to be stitched and checked for pregnancy loss. I knew my baby would be a tough cookie the minute they told me everything was fine.
But that story will be told to her by me. It's a rite of passage in motherhood to tell your kids what you endured while pregnant. And since I had no morning sickness, no indigestion, no hemorrhoids, no trouble sleeping, no crazy cravings, and only minimal aches and pains, this story and my C-section scar are all I've got in my arsenal.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Ah Crap...Croup
It was only a matter of time until I had to write a post like this...
Punky is sick. Fever, runny nose, and a terrible cough. It started Sunday night when she woke up on fire at 4 a.m. I did all the typical things to break the fever but it's been persistent. The coughing started yesterday but it was very sporadic. And despite the fever and cough, she was happy and as active as usual.
I must've been up fifteen times to check on her last night and she had several coughing fits in her sleep. Once she woke up this morning I knew it was time to call the doctor. The fever was lingering, the cough was much worse, and she certainly wasn't happy or active any more. Off to the doc we went...
Croup. Crap. Poor little baby, she's miserable. The doc prescribed a steroid and advised a cool mist vaporizor to help ease her coughing. All in all I have nothing to complain about...she was only ever sick one other time and that was a year ago. She had a little cold and ran a fever when she was twelve weeks old. It's amazing she's been so healthy.
Her fifteen month well-baby visit was already sheduled for this Thursday and they advised us to keep the appointment as a follow-up visit. Of course, they will postpone any vaccinations till a later date. But they did weigh her today. She's a whopping 18 lbs. ten ounces. Yep, still a runt.
When we got home from the doctor, I couldn't bring myself to leave her and go into work. She kept crying for mama, and I couldn't turn my back and walk away when she is so sick. As much as I hate missing work, my baby needed me and if I did go in for the afternoon I would have been worthless anyway. My guilt and worry would have kept me from getting much done at all.
Anyway, when we went home for a visit in February, I came back sick as a dog. Now, after our visit this weekend, Punky is sick. Makes me worry about the upcoming trip home for Easter...maybe we'll both come back sick. I know, it's just a coincidence, but it still stinks.
Despite her illness we did have a nice trip this weekend. Punky got to spend a lot of time with family she doesn't see much, and she got her picture taken with the Easter Bunny. I really thought she would cry this time but nope...she did great. My four year old nephew cried and wouldn't get in the picture with her though. We really wanted to get their picture taken together this year and I'm disappointed it didn't work out that way.
We went to a christening party on Sunday. My cousin had a little girl one day before Punky's first birthday. Like me, she is in her upper thirties and this is her first baby. I am still so excited for her. They had been trying for quite a while and I'm glad they got their little miracle. It was nice to see her so happy on Sunday. I know how it feels to want a baby and think it's never going to happen. And when it finally does, and the baby arrives happy and healthy, you can't help but glow with joy. And she was absolutely glowing.
Punky had a great time running around the yard...on the grass! Can you believe it? After that last post, her aunt somehow helped her over her fear. She watches Punky when our work shifts overlap and she's been a great influence on her. She really enjoys spending time with her, and Punky adores her, too. They play, and play, and play. And through all that playing, she's helped her learn so much. With the recent break in the weather, a lot of their playtime has been outside. Whatever she did, it worked, and now running in the grass is a fun thing to do.
It's so nice that when mama and dada can't be there, she either has an aunt or a grammy to watch her and give her the same love and attention that we do. I dread the day we need to put her in traditional daycare. I know it will come eventually and my heart breaks just thinking about it.
Punky is sick. Fever, runny nose, and a terrible cough. It started Sunday night when she woke up on fire at 4 a.m. I did all the typical things to break the fever but it's been persistent. The coughing started yesterday but it was very sporadic. And despite the fever and cough, she was happy and as active as usual.
I must've been up fifteen times to check on her last night and she had several coughing fits in her sleep. Once she woke up this morning I knew it was time to call the doctor. The fever was lingering, the cough was much worse, and she certainly wasn't happy or active any more. Off to the doc we went...
Croup. Crap. Poor little baby, she's miserable. The doc prescribed a steroid and advised a cool mist vaporizor to help ease her coughing. All in all I have nothing to complain about...she was only ever sick one other time and that was a year ago. She had a little cold and ran a fever when she was twelve weeks old. It's amazing she's been so healthy.
Her fifteen month well-baby visit was already sheduled for this Thursday and they advised us to keep the appointment as a follow-up visit. Of course, they will postpone any vaccinations till a later date. But they did weigh her today. She's a whopping 18 lbs. ten ounces. Yep, still a runt.
When we got home from the doctor, I couldn't bring myself to leave her and go into work. She kept crying for mama, and I couldn't turn my back and walk away when she is so sick. As much as I hate missing work, my baby needed me and if I did go in for the afternoon I would have been worthless anyway. My guilt and worry would have kept me from getting much done at all.
Anyway, when we went home for a visit in February, I came back sick as a dog. Now, after our visit this weekend, Punky is sick. Makes me worry about the upcoming trip home for Easter...maybe we'll both come back sick. I know, it's just a coincidence, but it still stinks.
Despite her illness we did have a nice trip this weekend. Punky got to spend a lot of time with family she doesn't see much, and she got her picture taken with the Easter Bunny. I really thought she would cry this time but nope...she did great. My four year old nephew cried and wouldn't get in the picture with her though. We really wanted to get their picture taken together this year and I'm disappointed it didn't work out that way.
We went to a christening party on Sunday. My cousin had a little girl one day before Punky's first birthday. Like me, she is in her upper thirties and this is her first baby. I am still so excited for her. They had been trying for quite a while and I'm glad they got their little miracle. It was nice to see her so happy on Sunday. I know how it feels to want a baby and think it's never going to happen. And when it finally does, and the baby arrives happy and healthy, you can't help but glow with joy. And she was absolutely glowing.
Punky had a great time running around the yard...on the grass! Can you believe it? After that last post, her aunt somehow helped her over her fear. She watches Punky when our work shifts overlap and she's been a great influence on her. She really enjoys spending time with her, and Punky adores her, too. They play, and play, and play. And through all that playing, she's helped her learn so much. With the recent break in the weather, a lot of their playtime has been outside. Whatever she did, it worked, and now running in the grass is a fun thing to do.
It's so nice that when mama and dada can't be there, she either has an aunt or a grammy to watch her and give her the same love and attention that we do. I dread the day we need to put her in traditional daycare. I know it will come eventually and my heart breaks just thinking about it.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Favorite Things Friday: Chocolate
What woman doesn't have chocolate on her list of favorite things? Such a creature may exist but I've never encountered one. Most women know the secret: Chocolate can cure almost anything.
Have a bad day at work? Chocolate can make it better.
Have a great day at work? Chocolate can help you celebrate.
Feel stressed to the core? Chocolate can relieve the tension.
In need of a little afternoon pick-me-up? Have some chocolate.
Are you feeling sad and lonely? Curl up on the couch with a box of assorted chocolates and watch your favorite sappy chick flick.
Mad at your guy for (insert annoying man behavior here)? Chocolate can reduce argument length by up to 50% when used regularly. Individual results may vary.
That magical time of the month? Gimme the damn chocolate and nobody gets hurt.
It's an unrealistic fantasy to be able to survive solely on chocolate but it would be fun to try. I can't be the only one who has that daydream. Besides, if you normally ate nothing but chocolate, what would you eat for comfort in the situations above? As healthy as it may be, no amount of carrot sticks will get me through PMS... unless perhaps I have a sling shot and can shoot them at people at random. That would help a bit.
Over-indulging on chocolate regularly is surely a health no-no, but rewarding yourself with the sweet stuff once in a while is a well deserved treat. And almost every major holiday brings chocolate temptations in one form or another so who can resist?
Anyway, my chocolate of choice... Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. When I'm faced with a dire chocolate craving it's the only thing that brings satisfaction. It's my escape when I need it, my reward when I deserve it, and it keeps me from smacking some poor soul about once a month.
I've been enjoying these "favorite things" posts, but I think this will be the last for a few weeks. I'd like to find a few different themes to make me think and maybe cycle them every month or so. I've been kicking around a few ideas for next Friday but haven't settled on one...and I'm kidding myself if I think I'll do so before next Friday around ten p.m.
Have a bad day at work? Chocolate can make it better.
Have a great day at work? Chocolate can help you celebrate.
Feel stressed to the core? Chocolate can relieve the tension.
In need of a little afternoon pick-me-up? Have some chocolate.
Are you feeling sad and lonely? Curl up on the couch with a box of assorted chocolates and watch your favorite sappy chick flick.
Mad at your guy for (insert annoying man behavior here)? Chocolate can reduce argument length by up to 50% when used regularly. Individual results may vary.
That magical time of the month? Gimme the damn chocolate and nobody gets hurt.
It's an unrealistic fantasy to be able to survive solely on chocolate but it would be fun to try. I can't be the only one who has that daydream. Besides, if you normally ate nothing but chocolate, what would you eat for comfort in the situations above? As healthy as it may be, no amount of carrot sticks will get me through PMS... unless perhaps I have a sling shot and can shoot them at people at random. That would help a bit.
Over-indulging on chocolate regularly is surely a health no-no, but rewarding yourself with the sweet stuff once in a while is a well deserved treat. And almost every major holiday brings chocolate temptations in one form or another so who can resist?
Anyway, my chocolate of choice... Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. When I'm faced with a dire chocolate craving it's the only thing that brings satisfaction. It's my escape when I need it, my reward when I deserve it, and it keeps me from smacking some poor soul about once a month.
I've been enjoying these "favorite things" posts, but I think this will be the last for a few weeks. I'd like to find a few different themes to make me think and maybe cycle them every month or so. I've been kicking around a few ideas for next Friday but haven't settled on one...and I'm kidding myself if I think I'll do so before next Friday around ten p.m.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Don't Let the Grass Grow Under Your Feet
Several posts have documented Punky's utter fearlessness.
She runs, jumps, climbs, rolls... She still stands on her rocking horse and I have to admit she has great balance. It's been a long time since she dumped it and I've stopped stressing over it. She learned to put the throw pillows on the floor so she can jump off the couch and have a soft, cushy landing instead of making an ouchie. I thought that was some complex problem solving for a fourteen month old. She still tries to climb on everything and remains undeterred when chairs and stools tip over on her. She loves to play rough and wrestle.
She touches...everything. No objects scare her. She's not afraid or leery of new stuff in her environment. Not even loud, noisy things. She'd be thrilled if we could find a way to strap her to the vacuum so she could just ride it around instead of chasing after it.
All that being said, let's take a walk down memory lane to last summer, shall we?
The day she turned six months, I put a blanket on the grass and took some beautiful pictures of her outside. She was smiling, happy, and content. A few weeks later, I tried to put her on a blanket on the grass at a cookout and it didn't go well. She was fine for a few minutes, but once she crawled to the edge and felt the grass she burst into tears. She was afraid of grass...of all things.
Throughout the summer, I repeatedly tried to get her used to it but failed miserably. When I attempted to put her down to stand in it, she'd lift her feet up so they wouldn't touch the ground. She'd cry if I tried to put some in her hand so she could touch it. Resting on a blanket only lasted as long as it took her to reach an edge.
It was kind of comical and not really a big deal. After all, she was just a little baby. Next summer will be different when she's older and running around...
After work yesterday, I took Punky out for her first ride on the tricycle Santa brought (but didn't assemble until last week). It has a high handle in the back so it's easy for parents to push, and it has bars and straps to hold baby in place. It converts to a regular tricycle once she's old enough.
Anyway, when we returned home I thought it would be fun to run around the yard with her for a while. I had forgotten all about last year's grass fiasco and didn't give it a thought as I put her down in the yard. It only took ten seconds for it all to come back to me...
She was not impressed. Not one teeny bit. She immediately put her arms in the air. "Up! Up!" She sounded so pitiful, so scared, and when I didn't pick her up quickly enough the tears started.
I tried to reason with her...as much as you can reason with a fourteen month old anyhow. I tried again to show her it was nothing to be afraid of and held up a handful for her to touch. I knelt down with her and ran my fingertips through it. I tried explaining it in words she's familiar with... "The grass is nice! It's so soft! Mama loves the grass! What color is it? It's green!"
So much for my motivational speech; Punky wasn't persuaded in the least. A new summer is only weeks away and my little peanut is afraid of grass yet again. And I have no clue how to fix it.
She did, however, thoroughly enjoy sitting in the stone-filled driveway licking random rocks and smearing mud on her hands and face. Apparently rocks and mud aren't scary like tiny blades of grass. Imagine that.
She runs, jumps, climbs, rolls... She still stands on her rocking horse and I have to admit she has great balance. It's been a long time since she dumped it and I've stopped stressing over it. She learned to put the throw pillows on the floor so she can jump off the couch and have a soft, cushy landing instead of making an ouchie. I thought that was some complex problem solving for a fourteen month old. She still tries to climb on everything and remains undeterred when chairs and stools tip over on her. She loves to play rough and wrestle.
She touches...everything. No objects scare her. She's not afraid or leery of new stuff in her environment. Not even loud, noisy things. She'd be thrilled if we could find a way to strap her to the vacuum so she could just ride it around instead of chasing after it.
All that being said, let's take a walk down memory lane to last summer, shall we?
The day she turned six months, I put a blanket on the grass and took some beautiful pictures of her outside. She was smiling, happy, and content. A few weeks later, I tried to put her on a blanket on the grass at a cookout and it didn't go well. She was fine for a few minutes, but once she crawled to the edge and felt the grass she burst into tears. She was afraid of grass...of all things.
Throughout the summer, I repeatedly tried to get her used to it but failed miserably. When I attempted to put her down to stand in it, she'd lift her feet up so they wouldn't touch the ground. She'd cry if I tried to put some in her hand so she could touch it. Resting on a blanket only lasted as long as it took her to reach an edge.
It was kind of comical and not really a big deal. After all, she was just a little baby. Next summer will be different when she's older and running around...
After work yesterday, I took Punky out for her first ride on the tricycle Santa brought (but didn't assemble until last week). It has a high handle in the back so it's easy for parents to push, and it has bars and straps to hold baby in place. It converts to a regular tricycle once she's old enough.
Anyway, when we returned home I thought it would be fun to run around the yard with her for a while. I had forgotten all about last year's grass fiasco and didn't give it a thought as I put her down in the yard. It only took ten seconds for it all to come back to me...
She was not impressed. Not one teeny bit. She immediately put her arms in the air. "Up! Up!" She sounded so pitiful, so scared, and when I didn't pick her up quickly enough the tears started.
I tried to reason with her...as much as you can reason with a fourteen month old anyhow. I tried again to show her it was nothing to be afraid of and held up a handful for her to touch. I knelt down with her and ran my fingertips through it. I tried explaining it in words she's familiar with... "The grass is nice! It's so soft! Mama loves the grass! What color is it? It's green!"
So much for my motivational speech; Punky wasn't persuaded in the least. A new summer is only weeks away and my little peanut is afraid of grass yet again. And I have no clue how to fix it.
She did, however, thoroughly enjoy sitting in the stone-filled driveway licking random rocks and smearing mud on her hands and face. Apparently rocks and mud aren't scary like tiny blades of grass. Imagine that.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
This Time of Year - Part 2
Recent weather has given me a touch of spring fever. I really should know better than to let that happen in mid-March. These sixty-degree, sunny days are most likely just a tease. The worst snow storm I can remember in my lifetime was in 1993...in mid-April. It measured in feet, not inches, and we were snowed-in for days.
In the past week, all the snow has melted...even the little patches in shady spots that normally seem to stick around forever. Yesterday I saw geese flying north. Today I didn't even wear a coat.
Completely opposite from this post in October, I love this time of year. The dreaded winter is almost behind us and there is so much to look forward to in the upcoming months. Heavy coats are giving way to light jackets, heating bills are dropping, daylight is increasing, and living things are waking from winter hibernation.
The air in springtime is a magical mix of ingredients and people tend to ride a natural high of sorts. They are nicer, happier, hopeful. Refreshed and energetic. Life seems easier, more pleasant, more relaxed.
Nature experiences its yearly rebirth and influences all life to follow suit. Weathered relationships start to mend as people bond in the excitement of the new journey ahead. The past becomes the past and the focus shifts to the future. All seems possible.
I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I know what is just over the horizon. I can smell traces in the air. Spring is coming.
Be prepared for a totalbitch rant post when we get a foot of snow next week...
In the past week, all the snow has melted...even the little patches in shady spots that normally seem to stick around forever. Yesterday I saw geese flying north. Today I didn't even wear a coat.
Completely opposite from this post in October, I love this time of year. The dreaded winter is almost behind us and there is so much to look forward to in the upcoming months. Heavy coats are giving way to light jackets, heating bills are dropping, daylight is increasing, and living things are waking from winter hibernation.
The air in springtime is a magical mix of ingredients and people tend to ride a natural high of sorts. They are nicer, happier, hopeful. Refreshed and energetic. Life seems easier, more pleasant, more relaxed.
Nature experiences its yearly rebirth and influences all life to follow suit. Weathered relationships start to mend as people bond in the excitement of the new journey ahead. The past becomes the past and the focus shifts to the future. All seems possible.
I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I know what is just over the horizon. I can smell traces in the air. Spring is coming.
Be prepared for a total
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Slip Slidin' Away
Punky found a new source of amusement this weekend while I was doing the dishes. She discovered she can lay on her belly on the floor and use her hands to push herself backwards and slide all around the kitchen. She had a blast sliding back and forth and in circles, and I thought it was cute till she stopped and stood up... Her white jammies turned a dusty shade of gray. I knew the floor could use a mopping but I didn't think it was that bad. It got bumped up on the 'to do' list but still wasn't accomplished this weekend. I wonder if there's a way to strap sponges to her tummy and let her have at it...
It was a lazy weekend and I enjoyed just spending time with Punky. We will be going home the next three of four weekends and we have things to do the one weekend we are staying in town. It will be five weeks until we have the opportunity for another relaxing weekend so we made the most of it.
It was a lazy weekend and I enjoyed just spending time with Punky. We will be going home the next three of four weekends and we have things to do the one weekend we are staying in town. It will be five weeks until we have the opportunity for another relaxing weekend so we made the most of it.
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