When babies attack...
Friday, February 18, 2011
Thursday, February 17, 2011
A working mom
Being a working mom is hard.
I knew it would be, but I never imagined it would be this hard!
No, the job itself isn't any harder, the hours aren't any longer, the commute isn't any worse... but it feels like it. Don't get me wrong, I love my job. I work with an incredible group of people and I really do enjoy what I do, but every time I see my little girl smile, I want to drop everything, call in sick and cuddle up with her for the day.
But I don't.
Sometimes I bring her to work with me and that helps. She lays on the floor in the office or takes a nap or makes her rounds, holding court with anyone that passes by. Most of the time, she is content to sit in my lap and watch me edit. If I could, I would bring her every day.
It's hard sometimes, walking out of the door in the morning, away from that smile... And then counting down the hours until I can see her again.
There is no better feeling after a long day filled with meetings, laborious edits and unforgiving deadlines, than to walk in the door and see my little girl. When she notices me, her eyes light up and she grins uncontrollably. Her feet start to kick and her hands wave around. I feed her and then she sits in my lap, snuggled up in my arms and she talks to me. Sometimes she reaches up to touch my face or she plays with my clothes. And other times she just sits in my lap and screeches.
These are good moments. These are the best moments.
Being a working mom isn't easy, but at least I have these moments and for that I am thankful!
I knew it would be, but I never imagined it would be this hard!
No, the job itself isn't any harder, the hours aren't any longer, the commute isn't any worse... but it feels like it. Don't get me wrong, I love my job. I work with an incredible group of people and I really do enjoy what I do, but every time I see my little girl smile, I want to drop everything, call in sick and cuddle up with her for the day.
But I don't.
Sometimes I bring her to work with me and that helps. She lays on the floor in the office or takes a nap or makes her rounds, holding court with anyone that passes by. Most of the time, she is content to sit in my lap and watch me edit. If I could, I would bring her every day.
It's hard sometimes, walking out of the door in the morning, away from that smile... And then counting down the hours until I can see her again.
There is no better feeling after a long day filled with meetings, laborious edits and unforgiving deadlines, than to walk in the door and see my little girl. When she notices me, her eyes light up and she grins uncontrollably. Her feet start to kick and her hands wave around. I feed her and then she sits in my lap, snuggled up in my arms and she talks to me. Sometimes she reaches up to touch my face or she plays with my clothes. And other times she just sits in my lap and screeches.
These are good moments. These are the best moments.
Being a working mom isn't easy, but at least I have these moments and for that I am thankful!
 |
| smiles for mommy |
Monday, February 14, 2011
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Covered in carrots...
Charlotte has started to eat real food...
We knew it was time to start feeding her solids when every bite we took was accompanied by a gumming and snarfling noise coming from her direction. This was followed closely by distinct chewing motions and intense utensil scrutiny. It's hard to have a peaceful dinner when your baby is leaning cross-eyed over your plate with a large string of drool dangling precariously close to your meal.
So we slapped a bib on her, forced her into the sitting position and confined her to her high chair.
The first food we tried was avacados. I had read online that they are a wonderful first choice, so I bought an avacado, cut it up, mashed it up, stirred it up and stuck it in her mouth. The first spoonful she tolerated...The second one she complained about... The third one she gagged on and the fourth one she dodged completely... I tried the next night with the same reaction...
Having been disheartened by the avacado debacle, we put solids on hold for a few weeks. We resumed with peas, and after some success (there being no gagging or dodging) it was time to move on.
And that brings us to this evening...
Tonight's menu- carrots... Sure, most of them ended up running down her chin and landing on her bib... Some coated her fingers... Still others smeared across her nose.
And then there was the projectile batch that, when she sneezed, shot towards me like machine gun fire, spraying everything in its wake. Unfortunately my reflexes, slowed down as they are by fatigue and distraction, were not quick enough to save me from an untimely shower of warm, orange goo... And so, I sit here covered in carrots. There are carrots in my hair... There are carrots on my shirt... There are carrots on the computer screen... They are everywhere...
But that's okay. I gave up long ago my expectation to be clean and sticky free anywhere near a baby. I am sure that over time, I will be covered in much worse, and I will long for the days of warm, orange goo!
We knew it was time to start feeding her solids when every bite we took was accompanied by a gumming and snarfling noise coming from her direction. This was followed closely by distinct chewing motions and intense utensil scrutiny. It's hard to have a peaceful dinner when your baby is leaning cross-eyed over your plate with a large string of drool dangling precariously close to your meal.
So we slapped a bib on her, forced her into the sitting position and confined her to her high chair.
The first food we tried was avacados. I had read online that they are a wonderful first choice, so I bought an avacado, cut it up, mashed it up, stirred it up and stuck it in her mouth. The first spoonful she tolerated...The second one she complained about... The third one she gagged on and the fourth one she dodged completely... I tried the next night with the same reaction...
Having been disheartened by the avacado debacle, we put solids on hold for a few weeks. We resumed with peas, and after some success (there being no gagging or dodging) it was time to move on.
And that brings us to this evening...
Tonight's menu- carrots... Sure, most of them ended up running down her chin and landing on her bib... Some coated her fingers... Still others smeared across her nose.
And then there was the projectile batch that, when she sneezed, shot towards me like machine gun fire, spraying everything in its wake. Unfortunately my reflexes, slowed down as they are by fatigue and distraction, were not quick enough to save me from an untimely shower of warm, orange goo... And so, I sit here covered in carrots. There are carrots in my hair... There are carrots on my shirt... There are carrots on the computer screen... They are everywhere...
But that's okay. I gave up long ago my expectation to be clean and sticky free anywhere near a baby. I am sure that over time, I will be covered in much worse, and I will long for the days of warm, orange goo!
 |
| mmm...carrots... |
Monday, February 7, 2011
Going to work with mommy!
 |
| playing with her toys |
 |
| lots of drool |
 |
| naptime |
 |
| snug as a bear in a chair |
 |
| going home |
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Charlotte doesn't know...
Charlotte doesn't know about evil...
She doesn't know that there are people who are willing to fly planes into buildings. She doesn't know some people strap bombs to their bodies and walk into crowded markets. She doesn't know others hurt little children.
And Charlotte doesn't know about suffering...
She has no idea that some people live in complete hopelessness. She has no concept that people get sick. She doesn't know that loved ones grow old and die.
And if I had any say in it, she never would, because those things wouldn't happen. But they do, so she will.
But when she falls asleep in my arms each night, peace descends upon her face. Every muscle relaxes and her body goes limp. This is the rest of complete innocence. And as I hold her, I wonder how long that will last. Part of my job as a parent is to prolong that innocence as long as it is in my power to do so, to be vigilent in my prayers and to be steadfast in my convictions. So when that day comes and that innocence is broken, it won't be by my hand and it won't be by my negligence. And with a clear conscience, I can hold her close and reassure her that the evil and the suffering is temporary- that she was created for something far greater!
I wish we could all go to bed each night with that kind of innocence, to sleep with that kind of peace. But we can't, so let us try our hardest and most faithfully to assure that our children can.
She doesn't know that there are people who are willing to fly planes into buildings. She doesn't know some people strap bombs to their bodies and walk into crowded markets. She doesn't know others hurt little children.
And Charlotte doesn't know about suffering...
She has no idea that some people live in complete hopelessness. She has no concept that people get sick. She doesn't know that loved ones grow old and die.
And if I had any say in it, she never would, because those things wouldn't happen. But they do, so she will.
But when she falls asleep in my arms each night, peace descends upon her face. Every muscle relaxes and her body goes limp. This is the rest of complete innocence. And as I hold her, I wonder how long that will last. Part of my job as a parent is to prolong that innocence as long as it is in my power to do so, to be vigilent in my prayers and to be steadfast in my convictions. So when that day comes and that innocence is broken, it won't be by my hand and it won't be by my negligence. And with a clear conscience, I can hold her close and reassure her that the evil and the suffering is temporary- that she was created for something far greater!
I wish we could all go to bed each night with that kind of innocence, to sleep with that kind of peace. But we can't, so let us try our hardest and most faithfully to assure that our children can.
 |
 |
| sweet dreams little girl |
Friday, February 4, 2011
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Observations...
I'll be honest, I think that most newborn babies are pretty ugly. Fresh from the womb, they still look all wrinkled and disfigured. They have odd shaped heads and crossed eyes and random bruises. Of course, over time they become much cuter, packing on rolls of baby fat and filling out more to that cuddly baby-ness that graces magazines and diaper commercials... But brand new, they're just ugly!
And sure enough, when Charlotte was born her face was puffy and splotchy, her eyes were squinty and her hands were white and wrinkled. She was skinny and boney and not at all cuddly. But I took one look at her and I thought, "Wow! That's the most beautiful thing I have ever seen!" I was hooked!
Now, I catch myself just staring at her, memorizing every detail of her little face and watching her transform from that splotchy little baby to the little girl I lay down to sleep each night... I don't want to forget anything.
So, here's a list of ten random things about Charlotte that I don't want to forget...
1. Charlotte has a mullet. She was born with it and it's still there.
2. She also has a bald spot on the back of her head where she rubbed all the hair off. This looks great with the above mentioned mullet.
3. Charlotte's hair is about 1.5 inches long, but she has one strand on the top of her head that is longer. It is about four inches long.
4. Charlotte has blue eyes, except for the bottom corner of her left eye. It's brown. It's been that way since birth.
5. Charlotte burps like a teenage boy.
6. Charlotte has a double chin. There are days when we don't even see her neck because of it. It is slowly taking over.
7. Charlotte's first tooth is beginning to peak through her gumline. It's on the bottom right front.
8. Charlotte has fingernails that rival a velociraptor... She goes straight for your jugular.
9. Charlotte has massively large cheeks. At least an inch thick.
10. Charlotte has an incredibly manipulative lower lip. When she gets upset, it puckers out and a more pathetic and sad looking creature has never been seen!!
 |
| sporting those cheeks! |
Monday, January 31, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Colic
One word... Colic.
That one word can strike fear into the hearts of the most seasoned parents. It takes seemingly normal men and women and changes them into completely irrational creatures... It works first through sound bombardment and moves quickly on to sleep deprivation followed very closely by intense paranoia. It works quickly, making a meal of poor unsuspecting parents well within the first week. For years afterwards, the very sound of the word will have them breaking out into a cold sweat.
Colic is really a term for you have a screaming baby and while we don't have an explanation for it, we can almost completely guarantee that the screaming will stop in a few months... good luck and godspeed.
After the first few evenings that Charlotte started screaming for no apparent reason, people began to whisper that dreaded word. And after a week, I began to believe them.
When you have a colicky baby, you would be amazed at the measures you take to quiet your screaming child. You walk with them, you sing, you massage, you bathe... You try everything. Most tactics don't work, but the ones that do, rarely work more than once.
When Charlotte was really small, the best way to calm her down was to swaddle her very tightly, give her a pacifier, hold her like a football under your arm and walk her around the house shushing into her ear. Tim was especially good at this technique. But it wasn't long before we realized that this method does not work very well out in public, and for legal and safety reasons, it doesn't work at all inside a moving vehicle!
We had car rides where she would scream for over an hour... It's amazing how quickly your resolve to remain calm and collected begins to melt. It was during these moments that Tim and I, our patience pushed to the breaking point, were most likely to snap at each other.
As the months went on and the colic continued, I began to lose hope that it would ever go away... But slowly, over time, the episodes became more sporadic. Sometimes there would be a quiet evening... We could talk in normal voices and be heard... There was a light at the end of the tunnel...
Nowadays, our little Charlotte is mostly over her colic. Every once in awhile it will rear it's ugly head and we mentally prepare ourselves for a long evening... But for the most part it is over... Our evenings are now mostly spent as a relatively quiet little family, just me, Tim and Charlotte... Talking in normal voices!
That one word can strike fear into the hearts of the most seasoned parents. It takes seemingly normal men and women and changes them into completely irrational creatures... It works first through sound bombardment and moves quickly on to sleep deprivation followed very closely by intense paranoia. It works quickly, making a meal of poor unsuspecting parents well within the first week. For years afterwards, the very sound of the word will have them breaking out into a cold sweat.
Colic is really a term for you have a screaming baby and while we don't have an explanation for it, we can almost completely guarantee that the screaming will stop in a few months... good luck and godspeed.
After the first few evenings that Charlotte started screaming for no apparent reason, people began to whisper that dreaded word. And after a week, I began to believe them.
When you have a colicky baby, you would be amazed at the measures you take to quiet your screaming child. You walk with them, you sing, you massage, you bathe... You try everything. Most tactics don't work, but the ones that do, rarely work more than once.
When Charlotte was really small, the best way to calm her down was to swaddle her very tightly, give her a pacifier, hold her like a football under your arm and walk her around the house shushing into her ear. Tim was especially good at this technique. But it wasn't long before we realized that this method does not work very well out in public, and for legal and safety reasons, it doesn't work at all inside a moving vehicle!
We had car rides where she would scream for over an hour... It's amazing how quickly your resolve to remain calm and collected begins to melt. It was during these moments that Tim and I, our patience pushed to the breaking point, were most likely to snap at each other.
As the months went on and the colic continued, I began to lose hope that it would ever go away... But slowly, over time, the episodes became more sporadic. Sometimes there would be a quiet evening... We could talk in normal voices and be heard... There was a light at the end of the tunnel...
Nowadays, our little Charlotte is mostly over her colic. Every once in awhile it will rear it's ugly head and we mentally prepare ourselves for a long evening... But for the most part it is over... Our evenings are now mostly spent as a relatively quiet little family, just me, Tim and Charlotte... Talking in normal voices!
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Flying
Charlotte loves to fly...
There is one sure-fire way to make our little girl happy... pick her up, toss her in the air... and use her as a human airplane, dive bombing through the house and creating general chaos... The faster you go, the further you plummet, the better...
Tim is very good at this form of entertainment... Nothing makes Charlotte more excited than having her daddy whip her into the air for a whirlwind tour of each room. Her little body gets stiff as a board and her mouth opens wide for a silent scream... At the end of each dive or toss, she lets out the most excited giggle... If he waits too long for the next round, she begins to fuss.
But while Charlotte and her daddy are zooming around the house, narrowly avoiding furniture and ceiling fans, I can't help but hold my breath. My heart begins to beat faster and I become hyper aware of every one of their movements. Sometimes it is all I can do to keep quiet and let them finish their course.
Don't get me wrong, I trust Tim. If there is anyone in the world that loves that little girl as much as I do, it would be him. And I know that every twist and turn is precisely calculated to produce shrieks and laughter without producing bumps and bruises.
It is just my strong desire to keep her safe and protected under all circumstances. But as she grows up, Charlotte is going to want to take risks. Most of them will be calculated risks- riding roller coasters, driving a car, going out on dates... And I am sure that all of these things will terrify me. (The last one especially!)
And then there will be those foolish risks- the ones that every kid makes at some point growing up... Those moments that we look back on and realize that it's by the grace of God that we made it to adulthood at all.
Even now, I know that I will not be able to protect her from everything. I can do by my best, but in the end, the best I can do is trust that God will continue to watch over her and that He will help Tim and I arm her with the tools she needs to navigate life- hopefully with minimal bruising.
There is one sure-fire way to make our little girl happy... pick her up, toss her in the air... and use her as a human airplane, dive bombing through the house and creating general chaos... The faster you go, the further you plummet, the better...
Tim is very good at this form of entertainment... Nothing makes Charlotte more excited than having her daddy whip her into the air for a whirlwind tour of each room. Her little body gets stiff as a board and her mouth opens wide for a silent scream... At the end of each dive or toss, she lets out the most excited giggle... If he waits too long for the next round, she begins to fuss.
But while Charlotte and her daddy are zooming around the house, narrowly avoiding furniture and ceiling fans, I can't help but hold my breath. My heart begins to beat faster and I become hyper aware of every one of their movements. Sometimes it is all I can do to keep quiet and let them finish their course.
Don't get me wrong, I trust Tim. If there is anyone in the world that loves that little girl as much as I do, it would be him. And I know that every twist and turn is precisely calculated to produce shrieks and laughter without producing bumps and bruises.
It is just my strong desire to keep her safe and protected under all circumstances. But as she grows up, Charlotte is going to want to take risks. Most of them will be calculated risks- riding roller coasters, driving a car, going out on dates... And I am sure that all of these things will terrify me. (The last one especially!)
And then there will be those foolish risks- the ones that every kid makes at some point growing up... Those moments that we look back on and realize that it's by the grace of God that we made it to adulthood at all.
Even now, I know that I will not be able to protect her from everything. I can do by my best, but in the end, the best I can do is trust that God will continue to watch over her and that He will help Tim and I arm her with the tools she needs to navigate life- hopefully with minimal bruising.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
The Color Yellow
Charlotte loves the color yellow...
Believe me, the irony has not escaped me. As a child, I was afraid of the color yellow... Yes, I was afraid... of a color... Strange, I know.
You see, the color yellow reminded me of throwing up... So, whenever I saw the color yellow, I would begin to gag. I have distinct memories of sitting in the grocery cart with my eyes closed, asking my mom to tell me when we were out of the mustard aisle. To this day, I can't eat mustard...
And then there was the grilled cheese sandwich...
When I was about three, my parents took us to a Bob's Big Boy... It wasn't unusual for us to go out to restaurants, and Bob's Big Boy was one of our favorites, after all, it had a life-size statue of Bob in the entrance... We were always allowed to order our own meals, but on this occasion, my parents ordered for us... And they ordered grilled cheese... When it came, I took one look at it and saw its oozing, yellow insides and my stomach started to turn. Beg and plead as I might, my parents insisted that I eat at least two bites... No arguements... This was non-negotiable... And so I did... I ate two bites of a grilled cheese sandwich... and 25 years passed before I tried it again.
Over the years, my fear of the color yellow slowly faded to a dislike and then an apathy and then just a quirky memory. Every once in a while, the subject would come up at family dinners, and I would tease my sister for chasing me around the house with yellow crayons just to watch me scream.
So, I had to laugh the first time I saw Charlotte get excited about yellow. There was a yellow can of pizza sauce sitting on our kitchen table while we were having dinner one night. Charlotte was sitting in my lap when she started making lots of noises. When Charlotte is very interested in something, or in deep concentration, she stretches out her neck, sticks out her chin and makes chewing motions with her mouth... This evening her little mouth couldn't keep up with her excitement and her energy burst out in a flurry of quick jerks and movements from her arms and legs. She startled us at first, because she had never had this reaction before. We'd hide the can and she calmed down... We'd show it to her and she would go crazy...
After that evening, I began to pay attention... It wasn't long before I began to notice that when given the option to look at different colors, her eyes would always go to yellow. I took her to her grandparents' restaurant one night and showed her a whole shelf of yellow cans. She was mesmerized. When she would get fussy, I would just show her a can, and she would calm right down.
So I'm going to stock up on sauce. Then, when we have those days when the fussiness takes over and the whining gets almost unbearable, we won't have to turn any further than our kitchen pantry, and to the yellow cans on the shelves to calm down our little girl... at least for a neck-stretching, chin-sticking-out, fake-chewing moment or two!
Believe me, the irony has not escaped me. As a child, I was afraid of the color yellow... Yes, I was afraid... of a color... Strange, I know.
You see, the color yellow reminded me of throwing up... So, whenever I saw the color yellow, I would begin to gag. I have distinct memories of sitting in the grocery cart with my eyes closed, asking my mom to tell me when we were out of the mustard aisle. To this day, I can't eat mustard...
And then there was the grilled cheese sandwich...
When I was about three, my parents took us to a Bob's Big Boy... It wasn't unusual for us to go out to restaurants, and Bob's Big Boy was one of our favorites, after all, it had a life-size statue of Bob in the entrance... We were always allowed to order our own meals, but on this occasion, my parents ordered for us... And they ordered grilled cheese... When it came, I took one look at it and saw its oozing, yellow insides and my stomach started to turn. Beg and plead as I might, my parents insisted that I eat at least two bites... No arguements... This was non-negotiable... And so I did... I ate two bites of a grilled cheese sandwich... and 25 years passed before I tried it again.
Over the years, my fear of the color yellow slowly faded to a dislike and then an apathy and then just a quirky memory. Every once in a while, the subject would come up at family dinners, and I would tease my sister for chasing me around the house with yellow crayons just to watch me scream.
So, I had to laugh the first time I saw Charlotte get excited about yellow. There was a yellow can of pizza sauce sitting on our kitchen table while we were having dinner one night. Charlotte was sitting in my lap when she started making lots of noises. When Charlotte is very interested in something, or in deep concentration, she stretches out her neck, sticks out her chin and makes chewing motions with her mouth... This evening her little mouth couldn't keep up with her excitement and her energy burst out in a flurry of quick jerks and movements from her arms and legs. She startled us at first, because she had never had this reaction before. We'd hide the can and she calmed down... We'd show it to her and she would go crazy...
After that evening, I began to pay attention... It wasn't long before I began to notice that when given the option to look at different colors, her eyes would always go to yellow. I took her to her grandparents' restaurant one night and showed her a whole shelf of yellow cans. She was mesmerized. When she would get fussy, I would just show her a can, and she would calm right down.
So I'm going to stock up on sauce. Then, when we have those days when the fussiness takes over and the whining gets almost unbearable, we won't have to turn any further than our kitchen pantry, and to the yellow cans on the shelves to calm down our little girl... at least for a neck-stretching, chin-sticking-out, fake-chewing moment or two!
The magical bear suit
Charlotte has a magical bear suit...
Shortly after I found out that I was pregnant, I went to Babies-R-Us, that monopoly of baby periphenalia, most of which has been designed to terrify you into investing three paychecks worth of money into baby proofing supplies and healthy baby trends. I had been there before, when my friends were expecting and I had to make the requisite trip to pick up a present. Navigating the baby registry and the convoluted aisles takes close to a PhD to accomplish successfully.
But this trip was for me... My morning sickness was in full swing and I had heard about this wonderful product called "Preggie Pops" that promised to help relieve my nauseous symptoms. Desperate for relief, I ventured in...
The "Preggie Pops" were surprisingly easy to find. Picking up the last bag, I decided to wander around the store. I found my way to the clothing section, and then to the clearance rack... Tim and I had decided that we weren't going to find out what we were having, so I knew picking out clothes would be difficult (and at this point, a bit premature!) But I wanted to look anyways.
On the bottom of the rack of boys clothes, I saw a bear suit. I realized that I had seen one of these before. I had been at a doctor's appointment when I saw a woman there with a small child. I never saw the child's face, but he was wearing this exact bear suit. There were little ears on top of the head and little padded feet and I thought this was the most adorable thing I had ever seen... And now I had found the bear suit!
I checked the tag and realized it would be the right size for when winter came around again, so I bought it, took it home and stuck it in my closet. Little did I know how important this bear suit would be to our little family.
Now, a year later, Charlotte wears this bear suit all the time. After the first few days of dressing her in it to take her places in the cold weather, we realized that she is practically narcoleptic in it. For a baby that never naps, we had finally found the key ingredient to getting her to sleep. Five minutes in the bear suit does the trick... She will sleep for hours.
Now the phrase, "If you want her to sleep, stick her in the bear suit" accompanies every baby sitter drop off.
Shortly after I found out that I was pregnant, I went to Babies-R-Us, that monopoly of baby periphenalia, most of which has been designed to terrify you into investing three paychecks worth of money into baby proofing supplies and healthy baby trends. I had been there before, when my friends were expecting and I had to make the requisite trip to pick up a present. Navigating the baby registry and the convoluted aisles takes close to a PhD to accomplish successfully.
But this trip was for me... My morning sickness was in full swing and I had heard about this wonderful product called "Preggie Pops" that promised to help relieve my nauseous symptoms. Desperate for relief, I ventured in...
The "Preggie Pops" were surprisingly easy to find. Picking up the last bag, I decided to wander around the store. I found my way to the clothing section, and then to the clearance rack... Tim and I had decided that we weren't going to find out what we were having, so I knew picking out clothes would be difficult (and at this point, a bit premature!) But I wanted to look anyways.
On the bottom of the rack of boys clothes, I saw a bear suit. I realized that I had seen one of these before. I had been at a doctor's appointment when I saw a woman there with a small child. I never saw the child's face, but he was wearing this exact bear suit. There were little ears on top of the head and little padded feet and I thought this was the most adorable thing I had ever seen... And now I had found the bear suit!
I checked the tag and realized it would be the right size for when winter came around again, so I bought it, took it home and stuck it in my closet. Little did I know how important this bear suit would be to our little family.
Now, a year later, Charlotte wears this bear suit all the time. After the first few days of dressing her in it to take her places in the cold weather, we realized that she is practically narcoleptic in it. For a baby that never naps, we had finally found the key ingredient to getting her to sleep. Five minutes in the bear suit does the trick... She will sleep for hours.
Now the phrase, "If you want her to sleep, stick her in the bear suit" accompanies every baby sitter drop off.
As she is getting bigger, I start to wonder what will happen when she outgrows her bear suit. How will we get her to sleep? Maybe I will track down the manufacturer and beg them to create the bear suit in sizes that will fit her well into adulthood! And while I'm at it, I'll buy one for myself too, cause it looks so very comfy!
But until that happens, I'll just enjoy the peaceful moments that settle on our house when she is fast asleep, bundled up in her little, magical bear suit!
In the moment...
Charlotte discovered something last night... Diapers... Sure, she has one plastered around her little bum almost 24 hours a day, but last night she actually discovered them. I had set one on the changing table next to her head as Tim was changing her diaper. Quite accidently, she picked it up. Once in her hand, she stared very intently at it. Amazed by its relative size versus its light weight, she began to swing it around in the air. Almost immediately she slapped herself in the face with it. I watched with interest, expecting her to get fussy...
But she didn't. She smiled. Then she started waving her hand frantically, slapping herself over and over again in the face. And then she started to laugh. Her laugh is contagious, sounding more like she's happily hyperventilating, rather than laughing. We couldn't help but join in. She took this as encouragement, and the diaper flew even more rapidly at her face, and her legs began to kick. By this point, she was shrieking with delight.
The thing about babies is that they live completely in the moment. With no long term memory to speak of, they approach each experience with a clean slate. These moments that mean so much to me, are not being retained by her. One day they will be... One day she will be able to remember the silly moments... She will remember the laughter... But not yet... For now, I will store these moments up in my heart... And as I fall asleep at night, I will replay them. And maybe, just maybe, I'll hear that sweet little laughter in my sleep.
But she didn't. She smiled. Then she started waving her hand frantically, slapping herself over and over again in the face. And then she started to laugh. Her laugh is contagious, sounding more like she's happily hyperventilating, rather than laughing. We couldn't help but join in. She took this as encouragement, and the diaper flew even more rapidly at her face, and her legs began to kick. By this point, she was shrieking with delight.
The thing about babies is that they live completely in the moment. With no long term memory to speak of, they approach each experience with a clean slate. These moments that mean so much to me, are not being retained by her. One day they will be... One day she will be able to remember the silly moments... She will remember the laughter... But not yet... For now, I will store these moments up in my heart... And as I fall asleep at night, I will replay them. And maybe, just maybe, I'll hear that sweet little laughter in my sleep.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Five months
My baby girl turns five months old today... Yup...Five months of sleepless nights... Five months of being covered in spit up... Five months of adjusting to the seemingly bipolar moods of an infant... Five months of being a mom...
And I love it!
People told me that I would, but as my belly grew bigger and my confidence grew smaller, I doubted whether I was cut out for a challenge like this... They told me that the first smile would make it all worth it, and as I held a screaming, colicky one week old baby that refused to eat and refused to sleep, I wondered if maybe it was some kind of cosmic joke.
But they were right... And I'm glad they were.
As she sits in my lap and burrows her head into my shirt, I can't help but think that I'm getting the chance to grow up again. When I see the world through her eyes, the novelty hasn't worn off, the cynicism hasn't crept in. She finds more excitement out of a post-it note than I've been able to muster out of a lot of my days. So, why not embrace the experience? Why not marvel at a post-it note?
Therefore, I've decided to keep a log of our adventures, the good, the bad, and everything in between. So, feel free to join us as we undertake this exciting, crazy and often messy job of growing up... AGAIN!
And I love it!
People told me that I would, but as my belly grew bigger and my confidence grew smaller, I doubted whether I was cut out for a challenge like this... They told me that the first smile would make it all worth it, and as I held a screaming, colicky one week old baby that refused to eat and refused to sleep, I wondered if maybe it was some kind of cosmic joke.
But they were right... And I'm glad they were.
As she sits in my lap and burrows her head into my shirt, I can't help but think that I'm getting the chance to grow up again. When I see the world through her eyes, the novelty hasn't worn off, the cynicism hasn't crept in. She finds more excitement out of a post-it note than I've been able to muster out of a lot of my days. So, why not embrace the experience? Why not marvel at a post-it note?
Therefore, I've decided to keep a log of our adventures, the good, the bad, and everything in between. So, feel free to join us as we undertake this exciting, crazy and often messy job of growing up... AGAIN!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)