This perfect little baby.
She has annoyed the hell out of me, left teeth marks on my nipple, and poked me in the eye in some of her screaming rages, but I've always managed to be cool, calm, and collected. Since she was born, I would always go the high school route and roll my eyes at her instead of potentially scaring her with my "stern voice". I haven't used that voice so far because I haven't perfected it yet, and I don't want to waste it on her when she's too young to understand. I want it to be really scary when I bust it out around those terrible two tantrums. Occasionally I give her an exasperated, "Oh, Madelynn!", but she either doesn't notice it through all her screaming, or she smiles at me. So beautiful, so irritating. I'm trying to use distraction now, because I could never bear to let her "cry it out", but sometimes you just can't distract her. I have to do something, else my head will explode. And there has to be something wrong with her, right? She wouldn't cry for no reason. Right?
Madelynn has been jumping all over my nerves for the past three days. Just fussy and grumpy all the live long day, but more so the two hours before bedtime. I'm still sick, and I swear she either knows it, and is trying to make me jump out a window, or the water in my fountain of patience has dried up to go fight whatever virus my body is housing. Well I had that last straw moment today. I set the screaming little mess down, stared right at her and screamed in my head, "Shut up shut up shut shup shup shupthefuckup SHUTTHEFUCKUP!!! FUCK!!!!" I think my lip quivered. She didn't stop, probably because she can't read my mind, but it really made me feel better. It calmed me down. I was able to stop and assess the whole situation, to look for the problem causing this madness.
Her onesie tag was poking her. I wonder if this has been the ongoing problem these months, those tags are the reason for "crappy hour" with Fussy Pants McGee. Could it really all be just a tag? Too easy?
I'm going tagless just in case.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Time Flies
Tomorrow will be October. My baby will be five months old on Tuesday. How did this happen? That means there's only one month left until she's six months. Half a year.
Everyone told me that time would fly, that babies are only babies for such a short time. I didn't realize just how fast it would go though. I feel like she's only going to be a baby for another six months, then bam I'll have a toddler, bam a preschooler, bam a big kid, and then the ultimate bam, teenager. Good God, I feel old.
I'm already starting to notice things I miss. When she was a newborn, her body would just kind of mold into mine, like we fit together and could almost be the same person as she slept. Now though, she's all kicking legs and waving arms, craning her neck to watch the cat, smacking me in the face and pulling on my lips and cheeks. When she cries, I can't help but feel like she's doing it just to see what I'll do. When toys are thrown but she still wants them, I feel like she's testing me. My little manipulative baby. We used to cuddle whenever I felt like it, pretty much all the time, but now I only get cuddles if it's convenient for her, when she's tired and the cat's in the other room.
As much as I miss my tiny little Madelynn, the new bigger Mady is so much fun, I hardly have time to think about four months ago. She's constantly busy, playing with this, chewing on that, exploring and learning and babbling, spitting in my face as she blows those raspberries that I should have never applauded. Her smiles are bigger, her eyes literally light up when she sees something new, her reflection sends her into gales of giggles, and she makes me laugh out loud at least fifty times a day. Today I had a moment that I've had before, randomly maybe every three weeks. I looked at my baby and thought 'If she stayed just like this forever, it would be perfect'. I had thought the same thing weeks ago, and weeks before that. Every time I have that thought, it's completely true, she's absolutely perfect. Every time this happens, it's better than the last. I imagine this is the way it's going to be. I'll miss a few small things, but with every turn of the calender page, Madelynn will be more fun, more perfect, more loved, if it's at all possible.
So instead of looking back and feeling loss, feeling like my baby is gone, I'm going to look forward to that 'She's perfect right now' thought that I'm sure I'll continue to have for the rest of her life.
Or maybe until she's 16. We'll see.
Everyone told me that time would fly, that babies are only babies for such a short time. I didn't realize just how fast it would go though. I feel like she's only going to be a baby for another six months, then bam I'll have a toddler, bam a preschooler, bam a big kid, and then the ultimate bam, teenager. Good God, I feel old.
I'm already starting to notice things I miss. When she was a newborn, her body would just kind of mold into mine, like we fit together and could almost be the same person as she slept. Now though, she's all kicking legs and waving arms, craning her neck to watch the cat, smacking me in the face and pulling on my lips and cheeks. When she cries, I can't help but feel like she's doing it just to see what I'll do. When toys are thrown but she still wants them, I feel like she's testing me. My little manipulative baby. We used to cuddle whenever I felt like it, pretty much all the time, but now I only get cuddles if it's convenient for her, when she's tired and the cat's in the other room.
As much as I miss my tiny little Madelynn, the new bigger Mady is so much fun, I hardly have time to think about four months ago. She's constantly busy, playing with this, chewing on that, exploring and learning and babbling, spitting in my face as she blows those raspberries that I should have never applauded. Her smiles are bigger, her eyes literally light up when she sees something new, her reflection sends her into gales of giggles, and she makes me laugh out loud at least fifty times a day. Today I had a moment that I've had before, randomly maybe every three weeks. I looked at my baby and thought 'If she stayed just like this forever, it would be perfect'. I had thought the same thing weeks ago, and weeks before that. Every time I have that thought, it's completely true, she's absolutely perfect. Every time this happens, it's better than the last. I imagine this is the way it's going to be. I'll miss a few small things, but with every turn of the calender page, Madelynn will be more fun, more perfect, more loved, if it's at all possible.
So instead of looking back and feeling loss, feeling like my baby is gone, I'm going to look forward to that 'She's perfect right now' thought that I'm sure I'll continue to have for the rest of her life.
Or maybe until she's 16. We'll see.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Monkey See
So an hour ago I didn't have anything to write about. But ten minutes ago, Madelynn gave me inspiration. Now she's been blowing "raspberries" for a while now, but I had no idea that she could do it on demand. So here is Mady and me, sick as hell, spitting all over ourselves, accompanied by a little Vivaldi to add some effect.
God, I love this baby.
Picture Blog
I don't really have anything to say, I still feel sucky. But I took a lot of pictures yesterday and even though my baby has the sniffles, she still has some smiles too.
And just for fun, check out that 3 a.m. bedhead!
Sick Mommy...
Sick baby. I'm sick. I can't breathe out of my face, my skin hurts, I keep coughing, and it's like 98 degrees in here even though the thermostat is sitting at 68. So I've googled just about everything, 'colds in breast milk', 'keeping your baby healthy', 'I'm sick and I'm breastfeeding!!! HELP'. So I did all those things they suggested, which was basically, wait for it, "wash your hands". Easy. I did that! A bajillion times! I didn't give her any kisses, and I kept her face away from my face. I didn't even let her chew on my knuckles even though they were clean. The only thing I can think of is that when I leaned over her to make sure she was still breathing, (I still do this 100 times a night. I'm trying to stop.) my nose dripped a huge drop of snot right on her cheek. I know it's gross. You don't have to tell me. But I anti-backed her face!
She's sick. I've been dreading this since day one. She doesn't have a fever, but when I went in to feed her, (for the millionth time after midnight) she was soaked. I thought she had somehow managed to pee outside her diaper and all over her head before I realized it was sweat. I almost called 911. She has the sneezies and she's coughing every once in a while, I hear it reverberate over the baby moniter at random intervals. When I run in to make sure that cough wasn't her last, she has snot all over her upper lip and spittle on her cheeks. I know it's gross. You don't have to tell me.
Anyways, I actually called the hospital to see if I had an emergency. One of the woman's first questions was, "does she have a fever"? Uhh, I dunno. I had to call her back.
Apparently, I over-reacted. No fever equals don't call. Who knew?
As much as I've been dreading her first little cold, she doesn't really seem to notice much. She has definitely been a little more annoying today than usual, she's not sleeping very well right now, and she's been eating like she thinks it's her last meal or something. I think I could better handle this situation if I didn't feel like crap. It's hard to cuddle when you can't breathe.
I'm sure she'll be up super early tomorrow too. Ugh.
It's three a.m. and Jeffrey's out with friends. As soon as he gets home, I'm going to sneeze in his mouth. I know it's gross.
She's sick. I've been dreading this since day one. She doesn't have a fever, but when I went in to feed her, (for the millionth time after midnight) she was soaked. I thought she had somehow managed to pee outside her diaper and all over her head before I realized it was sweat. I almost called 911. She has the sneezies and she's coughing every once in a while, I hear it reverberate over the baby moniter at random intervals. When I run in to make sure that cough wasn't her last, she has snot all over her upper lip and spittle on her cheeks. I know it's gross. You don't have to tell me.
Anyways, I actually called the hospital to see if I had an emergency. One of the woman's first questions was, "does she have a fever"? Uhh, I dunno. I had to call her back.
Apparently, I over-reacted. No fever equals don't call. Who knew?
As much as I've been dreading her first little cold, she doesn't really seem to notice much. She has definitely been a little more annoying today than usual, she's not sleeping very well right now, and she's been eating like she thinks it's her last meal or something. I think I could better handle this situation if I didn't feel like crap. It's hard to cuddle when you can't breathe.
I'm sure she'll be up super early tomorrow too. Ugh.
It's three a.m. and Jeffrey's out with friends. As soon as he gets home, I'm going to sneeze in his mouth. I know it's gross.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Whoa whoa
Madelynn has figured out how to get out of her bumbo seat. She throws herself forward until she can face plant into the floor. Her face was all smooshed in the carpet with her butt in the air.
It would have been funny if it had not scared the crap out of me.
I don't even think she really noticed.
Still haven't figured out how she gets across the room though.
It would have been funny if it had not scared the crap out of me.
I don't even think she really noticed.
Still haven't figured out how she gets across the room though.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Nunya
Jeffrey, Mady, and I all went grocery shopping. We had about a cart and a half of junk and one of my items was rice cereal. Not because I'm starting Mady on cereal, but because I didn't know such a thing existed until I had the little dear, and I wanted to buy it to see what the whole thing was about. Well that's not really the point. So we're at the register, and the little cross-eyed woman that was checking us out was talking to Mady, asking me about Mady, and gooing to Mady, blahdy blah. Usually I don't mind Mady being the star, but I was effing starving and just wanted to go home and eat something before I freaked out. Well that's not really the point either. When drool face cashier got to the rice cereal, she held it up before she scanned it and said, "You're not giving her cereal, are you? She's way too young for cereal". Are you kidding me lady? First of all, she didn't even know how old Mady was. And furthermore, being the checkout lady at Walmart does not give you an effing MD. in pediatrics. Bitchface. I said something along the lines of "Not until she's six months", but I was actually mentally blowing up that woman's lazy-eyed head with a rocket launcher.
I feel better now that I've eaten.
Anyways, it's titled 'Nunya' because what I should have said was "Nunya damn business, fuckface". I may never shop at Walmart again.
I'm not really sure why her comment pissed me off so badly. I think it was because she actually made me feel guilty for even buying the stupid cereal, like having it in the house is the same as force feeding an almost 5 month old poison. When I got home, I left it in the bag and hid it in the closet. I don't really care to know what it's all about anymore.
Bitch didn't even notice it was organic.
I feel better now that I've eaten.
Anyways, it's titled 'Nunya' because what I should have said was "Nunya damn business, fuckface". I may never shop at Walmart again.
I'm not really sure why her comment pissed me off so badly. I think it was because she actually made me feel guilty for even buying the stupid cereal, like having it in the house is the same as force feeding an almost 5 month old poison. When I got home, I left it in the bag and hid it in the closet. I don't really care to know what it's all about anymore.
Bitch didn't even notice it was organic.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
SoftPaws
I would never declaw my cat, because I think it's cruel and inhumane. But that little shit has pretty much destroyed the door frame that leads into her room. So I bought these SoftPaw things online and they're like kitty fake nails. Really really hard to put on when a cat is trying to bite you, but so far they totally work.
You can't really tell in the picture, but they're orange and purple for Halloween. She wasn't in the picture posing mood after I had to practically sit on her to get those silly things on. Anyways, I had been super worried about her scratching Mady, (the real issue rather than the door frame) but when Wicca tried to scratch me with the paw that was already done, I didn't feel a thing. So that's that then. Now I just need to find a kitty muzzle in case Wic wants to bite my baby. I'll destroy that cat.
Mystery Mover
Now, I swear on everything good and holy that when I went to pee, that baby was smack dab in the middle of that playmat.
When I got back, she was kicking those doors so hard that the glass was rattling. So I put her back on the playmat and sat down on the floor. I waited. She just stared at me. So I went to the hallway so I could see her, but she couldn't see me. I waited. Nothing. Something weird is going on.
A Whole New World
Things are different around this apartment lately.
When Madelynn wakes up from her nap, instead of screaming for me to come get her, she'll suck on her feet, babble to her bunny, and practice rolling. If she's not in the same room, I don't even notice that she's awake. She has learned to entertain herself.
Bath time used to turn her into a screaming mess. Now, she kicks her legs, splashes with her arms, and squeals the whole time. She loves it. I'm appalled.
It used to be that if I didn't shove a boob into her mouth the second she decided she was hungry, she would be completely inconsolable to the point that I would have to calm her down before I could even attempt to feed her. Now, she pulls on my shirt and opens her mouth to let me know that it's time. Are you kidding me? No, she's not.
If she becomes tired, she'll put her thumb in her mouth and lay her head down to signal that it's time for me to move us to the glider so that she can be rocked to sleep. She's out by the third rock. She tells me when it's nap time. Holy hell.
When she wants to play with something, she'll reach for it with both hands, grab it, pull it to her lap and play with it. I know this sounds so simple but just a couple weeks ago, this was totally unheard of. Hold her own toys? Chew on them without Mommy to hold them for her? Yeah right. I feel kind of useless. I only get to participate when she throws them across the room and I run to fetch them for her. Just call me Lassie.
She's so easy now. If she's crying, it's her teeth. Where's the guess work in that?
I've always loved this baby, but now I find that I actually like her. She babbles constantly, trying to socialize with Jeffrey and I, jumping in on our conversations to throw in her two cents. She's not that needy newborn that she used to be, the one that drove me completely insane for months. She's a person. Instead of seeing her as this blob whose stuff takes up half of the living room, I actually see her as another human being sharing this house with us. How strange.
I was doing laundry, and had left her in the middle of the floor on a blanket. I went to fold some clothes and when I came back, she was on her stomach in the corner of the room investigating the leg of her swing. How did she get there? No really, how the hell did she get over there?
It's a whole new world baby.
When Madelynn wakes up from her nap, instead of screaming for me to come get her, she'll suck on her feet, babble to her bunny, and practice rolling. If she's not in the same room, I don't even notice that she's awake. She has learned to entertain herself.
Bath time used to turn her into a screaming mess. Now, she kicks her legs, splashes with her arms, and squeals the whole time. She loves it. I'm appalled.
It used to be that if I didn't shove a boob into her mouth the second she decided she was hungry, she would be completely inconsolable to the point that I would have to calm her down before I could even attempt to feed her. Now, she pulls on my shirt and opens her mouth to let me know that it's time. Are you kidding me? No, she's not.
If she becomes tired, she'll put her thumb in her mouth and lay her head down to signal that it's time for me to move us to the glider so that she can be rocked to sleep. She's out by the third rock. She tells me when it's nap time. Holy hell.
When she wants to play with something, she'll reach for it with both hands, grab it, pull it to her lap and play with it. I know this sounds so simple but just a couple weeks ago, this was totally unheard of. Hold her own toys? Chew on them without Mommy to hold them for her? Yeah right. I feel kind of useless. I only get to participate when she throws them across the room and I run to fetch them for her. Just call me Lassie.
She's so easy now. If she's crying, it's her teeth. Where's the guess work in that?
I've always loved this baby, but now I find that I actually like her. She babbles constantly, trying to socialize with Jeffrey and I, jumping in on our conversations to throw in her two cents. She's not that needy newborn that she used to be, the one that drove me completely insane for months. She's a person. Instead of seeing her as this blob whose stuff takes up half of the living room, I actually see her as another human being sharing this house with us. How strange.
I was doing laundry, and had left her in the middle of the floor on a blanket. I went to fold some clothes and when I came back, she was on her stomach in the corner of the room investigating the leg of her swing. How did she get there? No really, how the hell did she get over there?
It's a whole new world baby.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Picture Day-Part One
So, that didn't go as planned. I picked this specific park because from far away, it looks all cute and antique, it's a park that Mady will never actually be allowed to play in because of the rusted play equipment and over-grown grass, but I thought fall pictures in this setting would be perfect. Well the park that looked quaint from far away, looked like a disaster area up close. But hey, I was already there and I had already dragged (drug?) all my junk up the hill so I went for it anyways. Well I probably should have asked princess Madelynn how she felt about the whole thing because she was only happy for a total of five minutes.
She was tired, hence this picture:
Which brings me to the last picture. Poor girl just wanted to suck her thumb and go to sleep.
I wouldn't say it was a failed mission, just not ideal. But I'm not going to let this deter me from trying again this evening. We'll be going to a different park this time, for sure. And I'm going to make sure we're both well rested before I climb any more hills.
ETA: She's been sleeping since we got back, which was well over an hour ago. I guess I know where we went wrong now. Hopefully on part two, we'll be able to take at least 150 pictures... ha.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Mommy Baby Picture Day
I've decided to spend the day tomorrow taking pictures of my baby. I'm devoting the whole day to it. I plan to take Mady-moo to the park, armed with plenty of outfit changes, and spend as much time as she will let me taking pictures in the best light for it. I had this brilliant idea this morning before work. I took a couple shots on the deck before the sun was even shining on it and I realized how much better photos look when they are taken in natural sunlight. It's the only way to get those shining eyes.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Iced Drool
I'm not starting Madelynn on solids until she's at least 6 months, longer if she's just not ready, but since she likes to put everything in her mouth, she ends up grabbing anything I happen to be eating or drinking. Well I had just got up to get myself a glass of ice water, and I was sitting in the rocker with her on my lap. She was grabbing for the glass with both hands trying to bring it to her mouth, so I tried to ever so carefully give her a little drink. Yeah, well it ended up all over us, but she was still being little miss grabby pants so I tried again. We dumped more of the water all over ourselves and she managed to actually fill the glass back up with drool. I was going to just drink the water anyways, but the ratio of water to drool was not one that I was willing to forget, a little drool is OK, but you have to draw the line somewhere. So I got my own glass and we continued to play-drink with the first one. By the time this got old, I swear that glass contained only drool and ice cubes. Jeffrey came in from the balcony and grabbed the iced drool, swallowing the whole thing at one time.
I didn't say anything.
Haha.
I didn't say anything.
Haha.
Patience
I had to drive to Altoona today to get Jeffrey's "alcoholic-asshole-box" replaced. Why would I have to do this? Because he "forgot" that this was the absolute last day that he could do it and conveniently for him, he had to work.
So anyways, I had to take Madelynn with me because, as I said, absolute last day and all, and I wasn't informed that it had to be done until the "absolute" last damn minute. I dread having to go on long drives by myself with Mady in the car, especially in a car that I don't really know how to drive, and to a town that I really don't know my way around. Well a drive that should have taken about an hour and a half, ended up taking me well over two hours. Construction confused me. I got half way, took the wrong exit and ended up back where I started. I cried. I was so worried that Madelynn was going to wake up from her car-ride-induced slumber and scream the rest of the way, with no where for me to pull over, and no way of making my boob reach the back seat to feed her. She slept the first 30 minutes, and then I heard some rustling from the backseat. She was playing with the wings on her crinkly butterfly-like toy. I started looking for somewhere to stop.
I didn't need to. Mady entertained herself in her car seat for over an hour. She played with her bunny, she chewed on her butterfly-like thing, and she examined her feet. When we got to Circuit City, I pulled her out so she could stretch her legs and look around. After the asshole-box had been installed, I fed her in the parking lot. She ate quickly, played with the beads on my necklace for a minute, and was strapped back in her seat without a single protest. I knew it was too good to be true. I knew that by the time we got to the State College exit all hell was going to break loose.
It didn't. She talked the whole way home. I'm pretty sure she was talking to her feet, but who cares? No cries, no screams, not even poop. My baby has the patience of a saint. Now, back home, she got her bath, drank her boob, read The Jungle Book with me, and is now off in baby dreamland smiling in her sleep.
I wonder what this means for tomorrow? It was just too damn easy.
On a side note, I only stalled that black-machine-of-death once. Luckily for us, and the rest of the cars on the road, it wasn't on a hill.
So anyways, I had to take Madelynn with me because, as I said, absolute last day and all, and I wasn't informed that it had to be done until the "absolute" last damn minute. I dread having to go on long drives by myself with Mady in the car, especially in a car that I don't really know how to drive, and to a town that I really don't know my way around. Well a drive that should have taken about an hour and a half, ended up taking me well over two hours. Construction confused me. I got half way, took the wrong exit and ended up back where I started. I cried. I was so worried that Madelynn was going to wake up from her car-ride-induced slumber and scream the rest of the way, with no where for me to pull over, and no way of making my boob reach the back seat to feed her. She slept the first 30 minutes, and then I heard some rustling from the backseat. She was playing with the wings on her crinkly butterfly-like toy. I started looking for somewhere to stop.
I didn't need to. Mady entertained herself in her car seat for over an hour. She played with her bunny, she chewed on her butterfly-like thing, and she examined her feet. When we got to Circuit City, I pulled her out so she could stretch her legs and look around. After the asshole-box had been installed, I fed her in the parking lot. She ate quickly, played with the beads on my necklace for a minute, and was strapped back in her seat without a single protest. I knew it was too good to be true. I knew that by the time we got to the State College exit all hell was going to break loose.
It didn't. She talked the whole way home. I'm pretty sure she was talking to her feet, but who cares? No cries, no screams, not even poop. My baby has the patience of a saint. Now, back home, she got her bath, drank her boob, read The Jungle Book with me, and is now off in baby dreamland smiling in her sleep.
I wonder what this means for tomorrow? It was just too damn easy.
On a side note, I only stalled that black-machine-of-death once. Luckily for us, and the rest of the cars on the road, it wasn't on a hill.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Cherry Popsicle
I've tried just about everything to deal with Mady's teething. She'll chew on cold washcloths, my fingers, and ONE teether of the million I have laying around the house. She's not unhappy, she just likes to chew all the time. So my brilliant idea these past couple days was to use popsicles. I take them out of their plastic and then put them in a ziploc bag, using a washcloth as a makeshift handle so my hands don't freeze off while I hold it for her. She loves it. She chews and chews and drools like a madman and it's just a very happy experience.
So today, I was watching Charmed for some reason while she happily chewed on a red popsicle. It's not like I wasn't there, she was sitting on my lap and I was holding it for her. And it's not like I wasn't paying attention to her, I was telling her what was going on with Piper and she was listening. I looked down because it felt like there was an abnormal amount of drool soaking into my pant leg and oh holy shit EVERYthing was red. Those sharp ass little teeth of hers must have punctured the ziplock bag because she was covered in red popsicle. Her clothes, her face, her legs, both arms, and a rather large sticky patch of hair were stained bright red.
I don't know how much red juice she actually swallowed, I'm assuming not much because there was about a gallon of it on my sweatpants. No more popsicles.
So today, I was watching Charmed for some reason while she happily chewed on a red popsicle. It's not like I wasn't there, she was sitting on my lap and I was holding it for her. And it's not like I wasn't paying attention to her, I was telling her what was going on with Piper and she was listening. I looked down because it felt like there was an abnormal amount of drool soaking into my pant leg and oh holy shit EVERYthing was red. Those sharp ass little teeth of hers must have punctured the ziplock bag because she was covered in red popsicle. Her clothes, her face, her legs, both arms, and a rather large sticky patch of hair were stained bright red.
I don't know how much red juice she actually swallowed, I'm assuming not much because there was about a gallon of it on my sweatpants. No more popsicles.
Monday, September 15, 2008
But You're the Parent
So we went for Mady's 4 month today, and I was nervous all morning. After some positive reinforcement from a complete stranger, I was determined that she would NOT be getting all of her shots today. I went in there with this awful feeling in my stomach, worried that I was going to have to walk out in a huff and start looking for a new Doctor. When he asked me if I had any questions or concerns, I stumbled all over my words and could barely get the whole sentence out.
Me: Uhh, um, I've been reading about shots, and uhhh, um, I would really like to follow a delayed vaccination schedule, and um, well, I don't really know how I want to go about it because I feel like I, um, need to be more, uhh, educated before I make a decision, so uhh, I don't think I want any shots today, and uhh, I'm not sure what I'm going to do, but um, no. No shots.
Dr: Okay.
Me: Really?? You mean, wait, you mean, no shots? I thought it would be harder than this.
Dr: But you're the parent.
Ha! I'm the parent. Mady received one shot today instead of three. Next month she will receive two more, and from then on we will be following the schedule in Dr. Sears' vaccine book. I can't believe I was worried over nothing. I had heard so many negative stories about Doctors who tell their patients that they won't change the schedule, and if they don't like it, they can go elsewhere. I had already planned on going elsewhere, but I was so shocked at his understanding.
I'm the parent. She's my child. I feel like I'm doing the right thing, and I feel so much better about this whole vaccine business. That empty pit of apprehension that's been churning in my stomach for the last two months is gone. What a great feeling.
Madelynn didn't even cry when she got her one shot. She was more than fine. Maybe she knew somehow that Mommy was prepared to fight, and that made the one shot seem less painful. At least that's what I choose to believe anyways.
13lbs 14oz, 24 3/4 in. She's beautifully average, and I couldn't have asked for a better four month visit.
Thank you Shannon.
Me: Uhh, um, I've been reading about shots, and uhhh, um, I would really like to follow a delayed vaccination schedule, and um, well, I don't really know how I want to go about it because I feel like I, um, need to be more, uhh, educated before I make a decision, so uhh, I don't think I want any shots today, and uhh, I'm not sure what I'm going to do, but um, no. No shots.
Dr: Okay.
Me: Really?? You mean, wait, you mean, no shots? I thought it would be harder than this.
Dr: But you're the parent.
Ha! I'm the parent. Mady received one shot today instead of three. Next month she will receive two more, and from then on we will be following the schedule in Dr. Sears' vaccine book. I can't believe I was worried over nothing. I had heard so many negative stories about Doctors who tell their patients that they won't change the schedule, and if they don't like it, they can go elsewhere. I had already planned on going elsewhere, but I was so shocked at his understanding.
I'm the parent. She's my child. I feel like I'm doing the right thing, and I feel so much better about this whole vaccine business. That empty pit of apprehension that's been churning in my stomach for the last two months is gone. What a great feeling.
Madelynn didn't even cry when she got her one shot. She was more than fine. Maybe she knew somehow that Mommy was prepared to fight, and that made the one shot seem less painful. At least that's what I choose to believe anyways.
13lbs 14oz, 24 3/4 in. She's beautifully average, and I couldn't have asked for a better four month visit.
Thank you Shannon.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Ugh.
Four month appointment tomorrow. I'm trying to figure out how Mady and I can get away with spending the whole day in bed with the covers over our heads. I'm at a loss.
Actually, I plan to inform her ped that we will now be following a delayed vaccination schedule, so maybe she'll only be getting one or two shots instead of three or four. I have been studying the ingredients and side effects of each vaccine and the facts are incredibly disturbing. Although I don't want my daughter shot full of metals and aborted fetus tissue, I understand the importance of vaccinating, but I still don't know where I stand on the debate.
If her Doctor gives me a hard time about a delayed schedule, I honestly don't know if I'll just say "screw it, give her the shots", or "eff you, I'll find a new doctor". I imagine I'll shed some tears either way.
As I said, I'm at a loss.
If I allow them to give her all the shots, and all on time, and she has some awful reaction, how would I live with myself? If I delay the vaccines, or opt out of some of them altogether, and she is exposed to some child who also skipped shots, this child with rubella, how would I live with myself?
She'll be getting her shots tomorrow.
Maybe.
Actually, I plan to inform her ped that we will now be following a delayed vaccination schedule, so maybe she'll only be getting one or two shots instead of three or four. I have been studying the ingredients and side effects of each vaccine and the facts are incredibly disturbing. Although I don't want my daughter shot full of metals and aborted fetus tissue, I understand the importance of vaccinating, but I still don't know where I stand on the debate.
If her Doctor gives me a hard time about a delayed schedule, I honestly don't know if I'll just say "screw it, give her the shots", or "eff you, I'll find a new doctor". I imagine I'll shed some tears either way.
As I said, I'm at a loss.
If I allow them to give her all the shots, and all on time, and she has some awful reaction, how would I live with myself? If I delay the vaccines, or opt out of some of them altogether, and she is exposed to some child who also skipped shots, this child with rubella, how would I live with myself?
She'll be getting her shots tomorrow.
Maybe.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Sloppy at the S'loon
I slept on my bathroom floor last night with a little bit of vomit in my hair.
Three drinks. Technically, three and a quarter. Or maybe it was four and a quarter? I think it was that quarter that did it.
Three drinks. And not all at once mind you, three drinks stretched out over three hours.
I will absolutely, positively, never, ever, NEVER, drink again.
Well maybe not never. But definitely no more than two in a 24 hour period. Hell, a 48 hour period.
Oddly enough, I'm not even hungover. Super!
Luckily, I had plenty of booby milk in the freezer. The poor girl would have been wasted or dropped if Daddy hadn't been there to be the designated-baby-taker-carer-of-er.
Three drinks. Technically, three and a quarter. Or maybe it was four and a quarter? I think it was that quarter that did it.
Three drinks. And not all at once mind you, three drinks stretched out over three hours.
I will absolutely, positively, never, ever, NEVER, drink again.
Well maybe not never. But definitely no more than two in a 24 hour period. Hell, a 48 hour period.
Oddly enough, I'm not even hungover. Super!
Luckily, I had plenty of booby milk in the freezer. The poor girl would have been wasted or dropped if Daddy hadn't been there to be the designated-baby-taker-carer-of-er.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Bonding with God
My Mother came over today to watch Madelynn. When I got home, Mum and Mady were on the floor together, rolling around and playing with a stuffed pig. I think they bonded today.
I'm sure my first bonding experience with my Mother took place right after birth, but the one that I remember most was only a few Thanksgivings ago. We had been visiting my sister in North Carolina for the holiday, and it was just the two of us in the car on the way home, an eight hour trip. We had sat through construction, bitching about the slow crawl of traffic. We stopped at rest stops and giggled at the random stuff that they sell in those little shops connected to Cracker Barrel. We sang oldies at the top of our lungs, and belted out country songs that I knew from when I was a kid. Back on the road after a break, the sky opened. Rain came down in sheets too fast for windshield wipers. Mack trucks pulled off the road as far as they could but were impossible to see. Drivers panicked, trying to switch lanes blindly. I think we almost died a minimum of twelve times before we were able to safely pull over. With the car still, we were both shaking. Shaking and crying, doing that nervous little laugh that everyone does when absolutely nothing funny has happened, the laugh of people lucky to still be alive. We didn't talk to each other, but we both talked to God. She thanked him out loud while I silently apologized for every wrong thing I had ever done, every lie I told, every church sermon that I rolled my eyes at. And then we hugged.
But that wasn't the bonding moment. When the rain had stopped, the sky still looked angry as hell. We drove on, both of us obviously nervous, both of us still praying, both of us doing it out loud this time. We were on a mountain, and the only thing separating us from what looked like a ten-thousand foot drop was a flimsy guard rail. And then the sky really did open. The clouds cleared in seconds, the sun shone through in streams, and there was an absolutely perfect rainbow that started on the plain below us, and ended somewhere behind us. And then there was another, smaller, but still complete, perfect rainbow right in front of us. I can't describe the scene, it was too amazing, too perfect. A picture would not do it justice. It was... amazing. We saw God. My Mother and I, mouths dropped wide open from what we were experiencing, saw God.
That scene, those rainbows, the light on that mountain and the land below, were the only things that we could talk about the rest of the way home. For three hours, we talked about the beauty that we saw, we talked about God, we talked about how small we really are. For three hours we marveled at how we could go from being completely terrified, to having no fear, to feeling complete and safe. We were in total awe of the greatness, a greatness that we had never been permitted to witness before. We cried, we laughed, and we thanked Him again and again.
As awful as the ordeal was when the rain was falling, as scared as I was, I would give just about anything to travel back to that place, to see that magnificence, and to experience it with my Mother.
But of course that can never happen. My Mother and I had that moment. It was shared and now it is gone, never to be seen again, but never to be forgotten. I pray often that Madelynn and I will someday be able to experience an event such as this. We will bond in many ways, as we are bonding now, more and more every day. But the day that we are able to look at the sky, or across the water, or through the tunnel and see the most inspiring thing that makes our minds go blank and our hearts feel too full, will be the day that we truly know each other. I believe wholeheartedly that God will show Himself to us, when we least expect any grace, and I hope and pray that we are paying attention if He decides to let us see Him again.
I'm sure my first bonding experience with my Mother took place right after birth, but the one that I remember most was only a few Thanksgivings ago. We had been visiting my sister in North Carolina for the holiday, and it was just the two of us in the car on the way home, an eight hour trip. We had sat through construction, bitching about the slow crawl of traffic. We stopped at rest stops and giggled at the random stuff that they sell in those little shops connected to Cracker Barrel. We sang oldies at the top of our lungs, and belted out country songs that I knew from when I was a kid. Back on the road after a break, the sky opened. Rain came down in sheets too fast for windshield wipers. Mack trucks pulled off the road as far as they could but were impossible to see. Drivers panicked, trying to switch lanes blindly. I think we almost died a minimum of twelve times before we were able to safely pull over. With the car still, we were both shaking. Shaking and crying, doing that nervous little laugh that everyone does when absolutely nothing funny has happened, the laugh of people lucky to still be alive. We didn't talk to each other, but we both talked to God. She thanked him out loud while I silently apologized for every wrong thing I had ever done, every lie I told, every church sermon that I rolled my eyes at. And then we hugged.
But that wasn't the bonding moment. When the rain had stopped, the sky still looked angry as hell. We drove on, both of us obviously nervous, both of us still praying, both of us doing it out loud this time. We were on a mountain, and the only thing separating us from what looked like a ten-thousand foot drop was a flimsy guard rail. And then the sky really did open. The clouds cleared in seconds, the sun shone through in streams, and there was an absolutely perfect rainbow that started on the plain below us, and ended somewhere behind us. And then there was another, smaller, but still complete, perfect rainbow right in front of us. I can't describe the scene, it was too amazing, too perfect. A picture would not do it justice. It was... amazing. We saw God. My Mother and I, mouths dropped wide open from what we were experiencing, saw God.
That scene, those rainbows, the light on that mountain and the land below, were the only things that we could talk about the rest of the way home. For three hours, we talked about the beauty that we saw, we talked about God, we talked about how small we really are. For three hours we marveled at how we could go from being completely terrified, to having no fear, to feeling complete and safe. We were in total awe of the greatness, a greatness that we had never been permitted to witness before. We cried, we laughed, and we thanked Him again and again.
As awful as the ordeal was when the rain was falling, as scared as I was, I would give just about anything to travel back to that place, to see that magnificence, and to experience it with my Mother.
But of course that can never happen. My Mother and I had that moment. It was shared and now it is gone, never to be seen again, but never to be forgotten. I pray often that Madelynn and I will someday be able to experience an event such as this. We will bond in many ways, as we are bonding now, more and more every day. But the day that we are able to look at the sky, or across the water, or through the tunnel and see the most inspiring thing that makes our minds go blank and our hearts feel too full, will be the day that we truly know each other. I believe wholeheartedly that God will show Himself to us, when we least expect any grace, and I hope and pray that we are paying attention if He decides to let us see Him again.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Mommy's Baby
Madelynn has taken on the persona of many of those silly dwarfs. Grumpy, Happy, Sleepy, Sneezy, and occasionally Dopey. Lately, the dwarf she most embodies would have to be Bashful. When I'm holding my precious Bashful on my hip, and someone other than her reflection is talking to her, she'll smile and then bury her head in my shoulder. Or, she'll peep around at people from the corner of her eye while her little head hides somewhere in my non-existent cleavage. I have a Mommy's girl.
The past couple times I've been at my parents house with Mady, she'll be happy go lucky, cooing in my Daddy's arm, or smiling while Mum swings with her. But the second she gets tired, she'll scream bloody murder in the face of whomever happens to possess her at that moment. I'll sit back, watching them hand her back and forth, jiggling her on their knees, rocking, swaying, singing, everything and anything they can think of. After the screaming gets obscene, and the looks on my parents faces go from super adoring to super exasperated, I'll finally step in and take the baby. It's like pushing the mute button. The screaming stops, tears cease their flow, her thumb travels to her mouth and her head rests on my chest. She sleeps.
They had babysat for her once a couple weekends ago. I had told my Father that we would be back to pick her up no later than 10. At 9:30, he called me to come get her. When we got there, Mady was coughing, she was screaming so loud. I took her. She stopped and smiled in my Father's face. Poor guy. Apparently she had started at 8 and hadn't stopped the entire time. Poor guy.
When I'm sitting on the end of the couch, minding my own business after a long day of being Mommy, Jeffrey will sit on the glider with Mady on his lap. Screaming. So he'll walk the hallways, the crying will stop, and I'll see this pathetic look of satisfaction on his face. I know as soon as he sits back down, that baby will be screaming her head off. He looks so pleased with himself though, I just don't have the heart to tell him. He sits. She screams. I take the baby, sit down on the glider, and channel surf while she cuddles for a moment before falling asleep.
I feel like the most powerful person in the world.
But what will happen when I can't be with her? How many times will my parents babysit a constantly screaming child before they decide they've heard enough and "just can't do it this weekend, sorry Aimee but your kid is fucking annoying".
Eh, I don't care right now. I'm on top of the world this week, knowing my baby loves me as much as I love her. Maybe next week I'll bitch about her attachment. Maybe her seperation anxiety will annoy the hell out of me too. In this moment, I honestly doubt it, the feeling is just too wonderful. But we shall see.
I guess I'll just have to be attached to her hip until this phase passes. I'm OK with that.
The past couple times I've been at my parents house with Mady, she'll be happy go lucky, cooing in my Daddy's arm, or smiling while Mum swings with her. But the second she gets tired, she'll scream bloody murder in the face of whomever happens to possess her at that moment. I'll sit back, watching them hand her back and forth, jiggling her on their knees, rocking, swaying, singing, everything and anything they can think of. After the screaming gets obscene, and the looks on my parents faces go from super adoring to super exasperated, I'll finally step in and take the baby. It's like pushing the mute button. The screaming stops, tears cease their flow, her thumb travels to her mouth and her head rests on my chest. She sleeps.
They had babysat for her once a couple weekends ago. I had told my Father that we would be back to pick her up no later than 10. At 9:30, he called me to come get her. When we got there, Mady was coughing, she was screaming so loud. I took her. She stopped and smiled in my Father's face. Poor guy. Apparently she had started at 8 and hadn't stopped the entire time. Poor guy.
When I'm sitting on the end of the couch, minding my own business after a long day of being Mommy, Jeffrey will sit on the glider with Mady on his lap. Screaming. So he'll walk the hallways, the crying will stop, and I'll see this pathetic look of satisfaction on his face. I know as soon as he sits back down, that baby will be screaming her head off. He looks so pleased with himself though, I just don't have the heart to tell him. He sits. She screams. I take the baby, sit down on the glider, and channel surf while she cuddles for a moment before falling asleep.
I feel like the most powerful person in the world.
But what will happen when I can't be with her? How many times will my parents babysit a constantly screaming child before they decide they've heard enough and "just can't do it this weekend, sorry Aimee but your kid is fucking annoying".
Eh, I don't care right now. I'm on top of the world this week, knowing my baby loves me as much as I love her. Maybe next week I'll bitch about her attachment. Maybe her seperation anxiety will annoy the hell out of me too. In this moment, I honestly doubt it, the feeling is just too wonderful. But we shall see.
I guess I'll just have to be attached to her hip until this phase passes. I'm OK with that.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Feed and Repeat
This is my day. Every day.
2:55pm. After two Hyland's Teething Tablets.
2:48pm. Happy!
2:50pm. Not so happy.
2:51pm. Fucking pissed.
2:55pm. After two Hyland's Teething Tablets.
2:58pm. Victory.
Sleep for a maximum of 12 minutes. Eat. Repeat. Kill me.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Developmental Limbo and Dance Revolution
Madelynn is in some kind of transition phase, where she can do everything, but she sucks at it. She sits by herself, but after a little while gets bored and throws her head backwards, either landing in my arms or on the million pillows I have to put around her. Super scary. She's been rolling from her back for about a week now, but when she gets to her stomach, she can't remember how to roll the other way, which really pisses her off. I've been trying to get it on film but she only does it when my back is turned. We're constantly practicing, but we seem to be pretty stuck in this skills limbo. I think she's even practicing in her sleep because she'll be completely out and then I'll hear a yelp on the baby monitor. When I run in, she's stuck on her stomach, and that's even with a sleep positioner.
She has two teeth now. Both bottom front teeth have broken through, it's so damn cute. But, they're sharp and she bites me! She chews on everything and anything she can get to her mouth and if that means my shoulder, finger, cheek, etc. then so be it. I bought her this super cool vibrating teether that she absolutely loves. When she bites down on it and the vibrating starts, she smiles like it's the best thing in the world. I tried biting it and it kind of hurt my head. Whatever.
This is such an exciting time.
My birthday is October 24th and according to the calender, it's on a Friday this year. I called my mum to ask if she would babysit. For the whole night. Overnight. Like the whole thing. Of course she said yes, but I'm a little nervous and it's still almost two months away. Even though Mady will be almost six months when the time comes, I'm afraid I'll chicken out at the last minute and call the whole thing off. Overnight seems so long. But there is still the 22 year old in me that absolutely can't wait to go out with Jeffrey and drink specials all night. And dance! Holy hell I probably don't even remember how to dance, not that I was ever that good before.
Look for me. I'll be the white girl snapping my fingers or waving my ass with my arms above my head. Can't miss it.
She has two teeth now. Both bottom front teeth have broken through, it's so damn cute. But, they're sharp and she bites me! She chews on everything and anything she can get to her mouth and if that means my shoulder, finger, cheek, etc. then so be it. I bought her this super cool vibrating teether that she absolutely loves. When she bites down on it and the vibrating starts, she smiles like it's the best thing in the world. I tried biting it and it kind of hurt my head. Whatever.
This is such an exciting time.
My birthday is October 24th and according to the calender, it's on a Friday this year. I called my mum to ask if she would babysit. For the whole night. Overnight. Like the whole thing. Of course she said yes, but I'm a little nervous and it's still almost two months away. Even though Mady will be almost six months when the time comes, I'm afraid I'll chicken out at the last minute and call the whole thing off. Overnight seems so long. But there is still the 22 year old in me that absolutely can't wait to go out with Jeffrey and drink specials all night. And dance! Holy hell I probably don't even remember how to dance, not that I was ever that good before.
Look for me. I'll be the white girl snapping my fingers or waving my ass with my arms above my head. Can't miss it.
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